Monday, 5 March 2012

Cyprian Norwid


The Larva
Cyprian Kamil Norwid

1


On the slippery London pavement
In a white sublunary fog
Many a person passes you,
But, appalled, you single her out.


2


Is her forehead in thorns, or dirt?
That's impossible to discern;
Are whispers of Heaven's wonder
On her lips . . . ? or a godless froth . . . !


3


You might say that in the mud a
Book of the Bible is reeling,
Which no one reaches for these days,
It's no time to think of virtue! . . .

4


Despair and money -- these two words --
Flash upon the scales of her eyes.
Whence comes she? . . . She keeps the secret;
Where goes she? . . . doubtless to a void.


5


Humanity is like that shrew
Who weeps today and derides;
-- What of history? . . . she knows only: "of blood! . . . "
What of community? . . . just: "of money! . . ."






-translated by Walter Whipple
 

Well! This really impacted me. I stumbled across Cyprian Norwid as a result of reading about Andrei Tarkovsy. I am evidently under educated. I blame the terrible school I went to and take absolutely no responsibility for my lack of application or interest in anything but hedonism.
I digress.
I love the word sublunary. I've never heard that word. Tonight in the sublunary village in amidst the downs, I sit and look up at the glistening Jupiter and Venus. Brightly looking down on me.
So this poem what is it telling me? Ugly, ugly materialism bringing with it despair and loss of faith. That's what this tells me. Is this what he witnessed of London. Streets lined with gold and despair? And no one cares about the lady tramp, starving, freezing, despairing. No sense of community at all - money and materialism are the God.
Yuch!
Mother Tongue Cyprian Kamil Norwid

"Let's first be a thunderbolt rather than a thunderclap:
For wild horses thunder and whinny;
First d e e d s !
    - and words? and thoughts?...
    - later!...
The enemy has corrupted our mother tongue -- --"
Energumen shouted at Lirnik
And pounded his shield until it bent out of shape.
Lirnik replied: "Not sword, not shield -- defend our Language,
But --- masterpieces!"

-translated by Walter Whipple
Enurgumen apparently is a person possessed by an evil spirit or ghost. And Lirnik is a Russioan travelling Lyricist or poet. How romantic. There is something quirky about this poem don't you think/

What does it mean to me. It's strange that the evil spirited person shouts at the lyricist in blame. Actually not so odd as I write that. He blames whilst the lyricist speaks of something wonderful being the saviour. I wonder why he was writing about language being destroyed. I wonder what had prompted this in him? He will have been witnessing what many people compain about now, the ever changing use of language. However, I tend to agree that the masterpieces retain something special, never to be lost. And each language version has it's masterpieces. Nothing stays the same you see, nothing at all.


MY SONG (II)
Cyprian Kamil Norwid
For that land where a scrap of bread is picked up
From the ground out of reverence
For Heaven's gifts...
I am homesick, Lord!...
For the land where it's a great travesty
To harm a stork's nest in a pear tree,

For storks serve us all...
I am homesick, Lord!...
For the land where we greet each other
In the ancient Christian custom:
"May Christ's name be praised!"
I am homesick, Lord!...
I long still for yet another thing, likewise innocent,
For I no longer know where to find
My abode...
I am homesick, Lord!
For worrying-not and thinking-not,
For those whose yes means yes --- and no means no ---
Without shades of grey...
I am homesick, Lord!
I long for that distant place, where someone cares for me!
It must be thus, though my friendship
Will never come to pass!...
I am homesick, Lord!
-translated by Walter Whipple
Phew - either he sees all of this lacing in the place where he is but for me it is that hope to be where these values he is missing are very day. I don't think it is a place specifically, I think it is within. Thank goodness for the knowing of it, now it's just about putting in the effort to start on the path towards it. Spiritual principles.
Cyprian seems to have been a man with spiritual princile and tortured by the everyday lack of them. Longing for something different, he has quite a gloomy outlook on what is. Was he depressed? Was he saddened by what he saw in the world? His poems suggest that to me?


TO CITIZEN JOHN BROWN
(From a letter written to America: November, 1859)
Cyprian Kamil Norwid

Across the Ocean's rolling expanse
I send you a song, as it were a seagull, oh John!...

Its flight will be long to the Land
Of the Free -- for it's now doubtful whether it will arrive...
-- Or whether, as a ray from your noble grey hair,
White -- on an empty scaffold alights:
That your hangman's son with child's hand
May cast stones at the guest seagull.


*

Then the ropes will tell whether
Your bare neck is unyielding;
Then you will try the ground under your heels,
That you may kick away this debased planet --
And the dirt from beneath your feet, as a frightened reptile
Vanishes --
     Then will they utter: "Hanged..." --
They will speak and wonder among themselves, could this be a lie?
Then, before they place the hat on your face,
That America, having recognized her son,
Will not shout at her twelve stars:
"Extinguish the feigned fires of my crown,
Night falls -- a black night with the face of a Negro!"


*

Then, before Kosciuszko's phantom and Washington's
Quake -- accept the beginning of the song, oh John...

For while the song matures, sometimes a man will die,
But before the song dies, a nation will first arise.

-translated by Walter Whipple

What do you think? Realy a man about o be hanged? Or an analogy for something else?
Kosciuszko was an iconic figure for the Polish. He fought against Imperial Russia and also fought in America. Of course Washington, the first President of the United States, another pioneer fighting for rights.
So perhaps I read into it that one has to stand in the line of peril and stick up for one's beliefs regardless of the cost. For istance the man could be hanged by the people even though actually he was just standing for what he believed in. Is the people though that want him hanged? No it is the greater power, the leaders, getting rid of the rebels, the trouble makers.
Back to the beginning of the song, where John is offered freedom. Not fear or dread, but to know that he stood up for his beliefs and is a free man regardless of the outcome. Oh and stands beside worlds great freedom fighters. Kosciuszko and Washington.

What Did You Do to Athens, Socrates?Cyprian Kamil Norwid


What did you do to Athens, Socrates,
That the people erected a golden statue to you,
Having first poisoned you?

What did you do to Italy, Alighieri,
That the insincere people built two graves for you,
Having first driven you out?

What did you do to Europe, Columbus,
That they dug you three graves in three places
Having first shackled you?

What did you do to your people, Camoens,
That the sexton had to cover your grave twice,
After you had starved?

What in the world are you guilty of, Kosciuszko,
That two stones in two places bear down on you,
Having first had no burial place?

What did you do to the world, Napoleon,
That you were confined to two graves after your demise,
Having first been confined?

What did you do to the people, Mickiewicz?

-translated by Walter Whipple
Who is Mickiewicz? Obviously someone else shamed by a place or nation. But this one has no posthumous shining glory! Of course each of the others was banished in one way or another only to be revered later on.

Quite a collection of the English versions of poems I can locate.

Bliss
xx


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