Sozopol*

[bogpan]

This town is alive,
alive thanks to the houses,
that touch each other;
to the fig-tree – the ripe one,
the growing one,
the giving one.
A strange town of the sharp streets
of ancient men (the men are absent).
Where are thy men?
The wind tore out of the wave
reflections of an autumn sun
and hurled them behind the horizon of white
lines…
The boats belong to the sea.

This town lives …
The houses – ripe figs –
the juices exchange.


-----
*The original name of the city is attested as Antheia[3] but was soon renamed to Apollonia. At various times, Apollonia was known as Apollonia Pontica (that is, „Apollonia on the Black Sea“, the ancient Pontus Euxinus) and Apollonia Magna („Great Apollonia“). By the first century AD, the name Sozopolis (Greek: Σωζόπολις) began to appear in written records. During the Ottoman rule the town was known as Sizebolu, Sizeboli or Sizebolou.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sozopol

[Wildcard]

Hi bogpan,
Haven't seen you around in a while. I'll give this another read later, but on this first read it is a really nice poem. On L8, you might need to specify that the 'young men' left for clarity, but I might be wrong.

When you can, try to read some of the other poetry on the site and give the poet your thoughts. We would love to hear your opinions and advice.

[bogpan]

Hi bogpan,
Haven't seen you around in a while. I'll give this another read later, but on this first read it is a really nice poem. On L8, you might need to specify that the 'young men' left for clarity, but I might be wrong.

When you can, try to read some of the other poetry on the site and give the poet your thoughts. We would love to hear your opinions and advice.

Hi, Mark! Glad you found time to read.
We old guys have more care and less time for poetry. Please be understood properly - many times I have prepared reviews for poems that read the forum but at the last moment to give up the publication. The most important reasons are language and differing cultural traditions. I admit that I first see criticism of each line of a poem. This approach was relevant in Europe in the 60s of last century, but certainly now out of date. If postmodernism is a major approach by testing intertekstulanite links in the text. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intertextuality
In Slavic syntax, has a "blackout" of the meaning of words, the possibility for different interpretations, while agliyskiyat language requires precise meaning (at least to my knowledge of languages), making it impossible for translation and for the post by my side due to the fact that I look for another instinctive sense of the word.
The vision of clichés is also different. For example, I saw with surprise that "green hills" are cliche, but the moon does not fall within the list of clichés.
These are some of the reasons for my silence. Of course, I mean that the forum is built on the "feedback".
As line 8 Be sure that if I had only to young men, just as would be the text.
Thank you!><

[billy]

i think a word on it's own is seldom cliche, what makes the cliche is the context with which we use it.

howling at the moon,, or the harvest moon, or gazing at the moon are cliche.

as you say it is hard to translate from language to another, that you try is commendable. not knowing the ins and outs of your language we can only give feedback in how the work is presented.
i like how you presented this one. at first it reads a a little confusing but i think the poem is better for it, for making the reader find the thoughts behind it. my only constructive comment would be that there are too many dashes and a little to do on the enjambment on L12.

i really liked what you did in showing the town and it's absent inhabitants. alive in it's touching of houses

i enjoyed the read, thank you

[heslopian]

I like how this comes across as a string of images conveying a larger picture. It's lyrical and oddly moving. The way you characterise the houses as lending life to the town is interesting. A couple of nits: I don't think L2 needs a comma, and L9's archaic "thy" seems pointless, as the rest of the poem doesn't use such language.
JMHO of course. Thanks for the read.

[Erthona]

My knowledge of this area is limited to Byzantine period, and that only to the strategic placement of Constantinople on the Bosphorus, none of which takes in this particular town. It seems that understanding the poem is predicated on having some knowledge of the town, at least I assume so, for except for the first four lines, I really didn't get much from the poem. As a brief word sketch, it appears to impose upon the reader the need for the ability to infer what certain connection might mean, without giving any information but the barest description. Such as the following:

"A strange town of the sharp streets
of ancient men (the men are absent).
Where are thy men?"

Why is the town strange? Why is that important? Why is it mentioned?

I haven't the foggiest who these ancient men are, why they are absent, or why anyone should care.

You allude to something, but supply no context, "a strange town", "ancient men". Making statements of vague allusion, on the whole seems as pointless as your use of "thy". Maybe this would make sense to people from this town (although I have my doubts), but it makes none to me. This strikes me in terms of poetry as a sentence fragment would strike me in terms of grammar.

Dale

[rayheinrich]

Do so like the poem. Poems that aren't mysteries aren't very poetic iMHO.
In that regard, i think the postscript is a bit much, better to let the reader
stand the poem on its own.

My native language is Texas English. As an exercise to help myself learn
German, many years ago, i wrote poetry in German. My cousin, a native
German speaker, thought they were good; said they were filled with
marvelously unintended images and insights.

Ambiguity is one of the three legs of the poetic stool*. Without it,
a reader soon gets up (off the floor?) and finds another one.

P.S. That "intertextuality" link seems at odds with your reasons for
not commenting. I'd suggest "post-structuralism"
( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post-structuralism ).
Yes, i know, a bit old-fashioned, but hey, intertextuality has
aged much faster than it/that.

*

[billy]

i to have to admit to not being into footnotes or prologues even if they set the tone for the poem to be read, of course that's just me i do think many who read this one would get something from the said footnote. jmo

[Erthona]

Unintended ambiguity is not a leg, its just stool!

BTW I read the footnote and the wiki article, as well as searching some other articles related to this.

[tectak]

Do so like the poem. Poems that aren't mysteries aren't very poetic iMHO.
In that regard, i think the postscript is a bit much, better to let the reader
stand the poem on its own.

My native language is Texas English. As an exercise to help myself learn
German, many years ago, i wrote poetry in German. My cousin, a native
German speaker, thought they were good; said they were filled with
marvelously unintended images and insights.

Ambiguity is one of the three legs of the poetic stool*. Without it,
a reader soon gets up (off the floor?) and finds another one.
Tectak: there is an advantage to three legs ......it doesn't wobble
P.S. That "intertextuality" link seems at odds with your reasons for 322
not commenting. I'd suggest "post-structuralism"
( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post-structuralism ).
Yes, i know, a bit old-fashioned, but hey, intertextuality has
aged much faster than it/that.

*

[Erthona]

and your point Tom?

[rayheinrich]

the point (which was actually on topic by the way) was accidentally deleted
by the topic police. i'd replace it but i didn't save a copy. anybody else have one?

[Bronte]

This town is alive,
alive thanks to the houses,
that touch each other;
to the fig-tree – the ripe one,
the growing one,
the giving one.
A strange town of the sharp streets
of ancient men (the men are absent).
Where are thy men?
The wind tore out of the wave
reflections of an autumn sun
and hurled them behind the horizon of white
lines…
The boats belong to the sea.

This town lives …
The houses – ripe figs –
the juices exchange.

Once in a blue moon
when the slant of my mind is just right
I come across a work that pleases me
This poem pleases me because it can be any town
at any time in any country men have trod
the fact the narrator is speaking of houses not homes
says it all; that life in all its forms can still radiate
from structures to any eye that looks its way.
And immediately we smelt the salt in line ten
as the wind escaped the wave. ( what imagery !)
a smart well thought out poem that far from looking
as if it has been worked over time, brings with it a feeling
of fresh keen awareness that the N is looking at it as he writes,

send it out, find this a home ASAP well done whoever you are!

"claps" that is my first impression on my first read through.

I don't want to read it twice this time just in case!!