Cyprian Kamil Norwid
On the slippery London pavement In a white sublunary fog Many a person passes you, But, appalled, you single her out. 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 . . . ! 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! . . . |
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. Humanity is like that shrew Who weeps today and derides; -- What of history? . . . she knows only: "of blood! . . . " What of community? . . . just: "of money! . . ." |
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. Cyprian Kamil Norwid
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? (From a letter written to America: November, 1859) Cyprian Kamil Norwid
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