Darling boy, whose lips are like summer Sangiovese, the dawn light tangles in your hair, like in a wood intense, profound.
In dreams, a sun lights up the sea. On a boat, some boys. Red, malachite, and gold the day - their heads are haloed, golden hay their wind swept locks.
They leap into a tidy sea, and I sink deep into the depths.
Edit 3
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer Sangiovese, the dawn light tangles in your hair, like in a wood intense, profound.
In dreams, the sun of Napoli lights up the sea. On a boat, some boys. Red, malachite, and gold the day. Their heads are haloed, golden hay their wind swept locks.
They leap into a tidy sea, and I sink deep into the depths
Previous edits
Thanks The cranes reference doesn’t seem to be working
Also, the Dante allusion is overdone, making the narration unnatural. What’s the link anyway between the two?
Reworked.
Edit 2
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the dawn light tangles
in your hair, like in a wood
intense, profound.
In dreams, I see a Maltese sun
light up the sea, on a boat some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed. Golden hay
their wind swept locks.
They leap into a tidy sea,
and I sink deep into the depths.
Edit 1
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the morning sun
falls on your hair, like on a field
of what’s flaxen in Tuscany
longed for in exile,
from the murk where where cranes are wailing,
wheeling in the frozen depths.
At night, I dream of a Maltese sun
light up the sea, on a boat some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed. Golden hay
their wind swept locks. Their limbs are lean,
the green ocean glints in their eyes.
They leap into a tidy sea,
and I sink deep into the depths.
Original
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the Tuscan noon
in your wind swept hair,
go trippingly. Where I go
the cranes are reeling
blown by winds from the frozen depths.
I shall try to think of a Maltese sun
light up the sea, on a boat some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed. Golden hay
their wind swept locks, they go trippingly
where you go, and I sink deep
into the depths.
E come li stornei ne portan l’ali40
nel freddo tempo, a schiera larga e piena,
così quel fiato li spiriti mali
di qua, di là, di giù, di sù li mena;
nulla speranza li conforta mai,
non che di posa, ma di minor pena.
E come i gru van cantando lor lai,
faccendo in aere di sé lunga riga,
così vid’ io venir, traendo guai,
ombre portate da la detta briga;
And as the wings of starlings bear them on In the cold season in large band and full, So doth that blast the spirits maledict;
It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them; No hope doth comfort them forevermore, Not of repose, but even of lesser pain.
And as the cranes go chanting forth their lays, Making in air a long line of themselves, So saw I coming, uttering lamentations, Shadows borne onward by the aforesaid stress.
It was a difficult read for me. I read it five to ten times, but still groping for your meaning. I got the feeling of deep aloneness and inner imbalance. But admirable was the attempt to be strong even in the end he is defeated by depression.
The metaphor of Tuscan noon and Maltese sun strikes me, but not really too sure what they mean to you.
(07-12-2019, 06:43 AM)busker Wrote: Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the Tuscan noon
in your wind swept hair,
go trippingly. Where I go
the cranes are reeling
blown by winds from the frozen depths.
I shall try to think of a Maltese sun
light up the sea, on a boat some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed. Golden hay
their wind swept locks, they go trippingly
where you go, and I sink deep
into the depths.
(07-12-2019, 06:43 AM)busker Wrote: Darling boy, whose lips are like summer like the enjambent into L2 and descriptive shift. ‘Darling boy’ suggests something different the relationship of two young men. How about ‘darling companion’ - S2 will make the relationship clear, and permit an interesting discovery moment in the piece, rather than just hitting the reader over the head with it right away.
Sangiovese, the Tuscan noon
in your wind swept hair,
go trippingly. Where I go the construction of the sentence, with all the commas, obfuscated the meaning on the first read. I had to go back and parse the sentence - imo something that should be mildly edited for clarity on the first read.
the cranes are reeling
blown by winds from the frozen depths. Original take was the cranes were birds, then after thinking about it I decided you meant construction cranes as a nice tie-in to his hard labor in a London prison. A bit confused I am lol.
I shall try to think of a Maltese sun
light up the sea, on a boat some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed. Golden hay not keen on duplicated use of gold as an adjective
their wind swept locks, they go trippingly
where you go, and I sink deep
into the depths.
Overall I like it. Just picking nits....
There is no escape from metre; there is only mastery. TS Eliot
Not keen on the title (which invites an unnecessary comparison) and confused by the painting (produced/exhibited in 1902).
When would N have seen it?
I don't think the revision has helped S1 (which works well), and I'm still not convinced with S2, mainly for temporal reasons.
Just a thought.
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer sweetSangiovese, the Tuscan sun tangled in your hair,
- 'wind swept hair' seems far too clichéd. go trippingly. For Where I go cranes are reeling in an icy wind blown from the depths.
falls on your hair like on a field
of what’s flaxen in Tuscany The syntax here is awkward, it's too condensed.
from the murk where where cranes are wailing, The double 'where' seems to be a typo.
wheeling in the frozen depths. This metaphor seems a bit weird, is this the reference to Dante? Since 'cranes' is ambiguous it needs to work for both the bird and the machine.
light up the sea, on a boat some boys. I would say 'lighting', it flows better and is more acceptable grammar.
the green ocean glints in their eyes....
They leap into a tidy sea, Best lines for me.
I also agree the title needs to be changed. It's an interesting poem, the combination of dream and dreamy landscapes works for me. I don't think you need any references. The poem is not obscure.
Thanks, knot
Your comments prompted some thinking
Redone
Knot, didn’t realise the 1902.
I was thinking of Tuke’s other work from the 1890s
As a general theme of what was going around then, should still be ok
The theme works, but wouldn't 'Red, malachite, and gold' need to change to 'August Blue'? Still no idea why Maltese though
While I agree, the Dante may be unnecessary, I thought the cranes worked (though perhaps 'turned' for ''reeled' might help there?)
I don't think either revision offers much of an improvement, neither flows that smoothly. Would it make sense if, following Sangiovese, the next
sentence was a question? As in,
Darling boy,
whose lips are as summer
Sangiovese, does the dawn still
tangle in your hair, like sunlight
through a beach wood? In dreams,
I see a day in August, blue,
....
....
..…
Go trippingly, my sweet boy, for where I go cranes are wheeling in an icy wind
(07-12-2019, 06:43 AM)busker Wrote: Thanks The cranes reference doesn’t seem to be working
Also, the Dante allusion is overdone, making the narration unnatural. What’s the link anyway between the two?
Reworked.
Edit 2
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the dawn light tangles
in your hair, like in a wood
intense, profound.
In dreams, I see a Maltese sun
light up the sea, on a boat some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed. Golden hay
their wind swept locks.
They leap into a tidy sea,
and I sink deep into the depths.
Edit 1
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the morning sun
falls on your hair, like on a field
of what’s flaxen in Tuscany
longed for in exile,
from the murk where where cranes are wailing,
wheeling in the frozen depths.
At night, I dream of a Maltese sun
light up the sea, on a boat some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed. Golden hay
their wind swept locks. Their limbs are lean,
the green ocean glints in their eyes.
They leap into a tidy sea,
and I sink deep into the depths.
Original
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the Tuscan noon
in your wind swept hair,
go trippingly. Where I go
the cranes are reeling
blown by winds from the frozen depths.
I shall try to think of a Maltese sun
light up the sea, on a boat some boys.
Red, malachite, and gold the day.
Their heads are haloed. Golden hay
their wind swept locks, they go trippingly
where you go, and I sink deep
into the depths.
E come li stornei ne portan l’ali40
nel freddo tempo, a schiera larga e piena,
così quel fiato li spiriti mali
di qua, di là, di giù, di sù li mena;
nulla speranza li conforta mai,
non che di posa, ma di minor pena.
E come i gru van cantando lor lai,
faccendo in aere di sé lunga riga,
così vid’ io venir, traendo guai,
ombre portate da la detta briga;
And as the wings of starlings bear them on In the cold season in large band and full, So doth that blast the spirits maledict;
It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them; No hope doth comfort them forevermore, Not of repose, but even of lesser pain.
And as the cranes go chanting forth their lays, Making in air a long line of themselves, So saw I coming, uttering lamentations, Shadows borne onward by the aforesaid stress.
The introduction gives a strong sense of romanticism and eroticism, as the reference to the taste of the lips and dawn light imply strong relations between the persona and subject. By expressing this through your chosen language you express the enthusiasm and emotionality of the persona, and although light tangling in a wood is a cliché image in film I’m not sure about poetry so it’s okay. The powerful image of a Maltese Sun sets the mood of the next stanza while resonating the image of the hair in the first line. The reference to the painting is pretty direct and doesn't fit well with the narrative. I suggest referencing it in the title in a more subtle way. Now you continue, to refer to their heads as haloed and then say golden hay which makes it unclear as to if it's the sun's light or natural blonde pigmentation. Wind-swept locks is kind of cliché and unnecessary since we know they have hair and are sailing in the ocean already. The ending of sinking into the ocean's depths seems to be referencing T.S Elliot's ending in TLSOAJPrufrock which is unfitting for your poem and by itself doesn't seem to tie your themes together. The image of a tidy sea is powerful and works well with the mood but them jumping into the sea seems to be a forced, unnecessary line. You could make a reference to the painting 'Hylas And The Nymphs' to imply they drag you in instead.
(07-15-2019, 07:41 PM)Knot Wrote: The theme works, but wouldn't 'Red, malachite, and gold' need to change to 'August Blue'?
Thanks for the comments, Knot
I think the allusion can be a loose one.
Tuke has loads of paintings featuring bathers on boats
To be clear, there’s no reason why OW would be talking about a Tuke painting in a poem to the darling boy. The allusion is for the reader, not the supposed receiver. At least, that’s how I see it
I think your also right in that the revision lacks something that the original has.
Oh well..::
.
Hi Busker,
like the revision, but I do miss the cranes
Not sure about the syntax of the first two lines, like summer / Sangiovese, just seems awkward to me.
(wind swept locks is still a little clichéd, )
Just a thought ...
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer
Sangiovese, the light tangles
in your hair, like dawn in a wood,
intense, profound.
In dreams, the Neapolitan sun
illuminates the sea, a boat, beautiful
boys. Red, malachite, and gold
the day. Their heads haloed, golden
hay, their wind swept locks.
The leap into a tidy sea,
and I sink deep into the depths.
Where I go the cranes are reeling
(08-04-2020, 03:27 AM)busker Wrote: final edit posted
Famous last words.
Hi Busker,
not that keen on 'tidy sea', and you might still consider some trimming.
De profundis
Darling boy, whose lips are summer
Sangiovese, dawn light tangling
in your hair, as in a wood
As In my dreams, a Tuscan sun alights on sea. a boat some men.
Red, malachite and gold the day.
Their haloed heads, golden hay
They youthful leap into a tidy the sea,
(shame about 'into' twice) each as supple as a wave
and I sink intodown to depths. where Cranes are wheeling overhead.
Regards, Not
.
:-)
In a previous desk job, we never named any .docx file "final" anything. Even a report out, to be published to the wide world, would still be "Draft Report xxx.docx". That said, the edit I posted was one that came closest to what I had originally intended.
But thanks for your feedback.
As this has been hashed over I just wanted to point out that the title should be "de profundo" as you use the Spanish preposition "de", but "profundis" is not a Spanish word. If one is going to start with a certain language one should stay with said language for clarity and consistencies sake.
best,
dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
(08-07-2020, 09:07 AM)Erthona Wrote: As this has been hashed over I just wanted to point out that the title should be "de profundo" as you use the Spanish preposition "de", but "profundis" is not a Spanish word. If one is going to start with a certain language one should stay with said language for clarity and consistencies sake.
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer Sangiovese, the dawn light tangles - You have accomplished a surprise in the line break, but not a distinct line as well... (fixed) in your hair, like in a wood intense, profound.
In dreams, the sun of Napoli - Sounds amazing lights up the sea. On a boat, some boys. - This line is problematic; the sentence break is clunky. (Read it aloud.) Red, malachite, and gold the day. - Nice Their heads are haloed, golden hay - Nice their wind swept locks. - I feel like I've read this 20 times before, maybe "wind kept locks"
They leap into a tidy sea, and I sink deep into the depths - The rest works and well
Darling boy, whose lips are like summer Sangiovese, the dawn tangles in your hair, like wood.
In dreams, the sun of Napoli lights the sea. In a boat, some boys. Red, malachite, and gold the day. Their heads are haloed, golden hay their wind kept locks.
They leap into a tidy sea, and I sink deep into the depths
