They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
Philip Larkin
A summary of a classic Larkin poem ‘First Sight’ is a short poem written by Philip Larkin in 1956, and published in his 1964 collection The Whitsun Weddings. Unusually for Larkin, it is a rather upbeat poem, a beautiful lyric about the natural world. You can read ‘First Sight’ here; read on for our analysis […]
über A Short Analysis of Philip Larkin’s ‘First Sight’ — Interesting Literature
Lambs that learn to walk in snow
When their bleating clouds the air
Meet a vast unwelcome, know
Nothing but a sunless glare.
Newly stumbling to and fro
All they find, outside the fold,
Is a wretched width of cold.
As they wait beside the ewe,
Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies
Hidden round them, waiting too,
Earth’s immeasurable surprise.
They could not grasp it if they knew,
What so soon will wake and grow
Utterly unlike the snow.
Watching the shied core
Striking the basket, skidding across the floor,
Shows less and less of luck, and more and more
Of failure spreading back up the arm
Earlier and earlier, the unraised hand calm,
The apple unbitten in the palm.
A summary of a short Larkin poem Philip Larkin wrote ‘As Bad as a Mile’ in February 1960, during one of his most productive periods of poetry-writing. It was published four years later in his volume The Whitsun Weddings. You can read ‘As Bad as a Mile’ here; what follows is our analysis of this […]
über A Short Analysis of Philip Larkin’s ‘As Bad as a Mile’ — Interesting Literature
Picture: Bruno Schulz
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
Philip Larkin
Walking around in the park
Should feel better than work:
The lake, the sunshine,
The grass to lie on,Blurred playground noises
Beyond black-stockinged nurses –
Not a bad place to be.
Yet it doesn’t suit me.Being one of the men
You meet of an afternoon:
Palsied old step-takers,
Hare-eyed clerks with the jitters,Waxed-fleshed out-patients
Still vague from accidents,
And characters in long coats
Deep in the litter-baskets –All dodging the toad work
By being stupid or weak.
Think of being them!
Hearing the hours chime,Watching the bread delivered,
The sun by clouds covered,
The children going home;
Think of being them,Turning over their failures
By some bed of lobelias,
Nowhere to go but indoors,
Nor friends but empty chairs –No, give me my in-tray,
My loaf-haired secretary,
My shall-I-keep-the-call-in-Sir:
What else can I answer,When the lights come on at four
At the end of another year?
Give me your arm, old toad;
Help me down Cemetery Road.
Цитата из стихотворения П.А. Вяземского Первый снег (1822). Поставлена А.С. Пушкиным эпиграфом к 1-й главе Евгения Онегина
„Wir wollen schnell leben und eilig empfinden“ –
(Übersetzung: JSB). Zitat aus einem Gedicht von P.A.Vjazemskij Erster Schnee (1822). Verwendet von A.S.Puschkin in erstem Kapitel von Eugen Onegin (1833).
Девочка плачет: шарик улетел.
Ее утешают, а шарик летит.
Девушка плачет: жениха все нет.
Ее утешают, а шарик летит.
Женщина плачет: муж ушел к другой.
Ее утешают, а шарик летит.
Плачет старушка: мало пожила…
А шарик вернулся, а он голубой…
The girl is crying, the balloon has flown away
Little girl crying: the balloon has flown away.
They are all trying to comfort her, but the balloon keeps flying.
Young girl is crying: there is no groom to be had.
They all are trying to comfort her, but the balloon keeps flying.
Woman is crying: my man has left me for another woman.
They are all trying to comfort her, but the balloon keeps flying.
An old woman is crying: I haven’t lived enough…
The balloon has returned, and it is blue…
Буря мглою небо кроет (Winter evening) – Kuban Cossacks Choir
Зимний вечер
Буря мглою небо кроет,
Вихри снежные крутя;
То, как зверь, она завоет,
То заплачет, как дитя,
То по кровле обветшалой
Вдруг соломой зашумит,
То, как путник запоздалый,
К нам в окошко застучит.
Наша ветхая лачужка
И печальна и темна.
Что же ты, моя старушка,
Приумолкла у окна?
Или бури завываньем
Ты, мой друг, утомлена,
Или дремлешь под жужжаньем
Своего веретена?
Выпьем, добрая подружка
Бедной юности моей,
Выпьем с горя; где же кружка?
Сердцу будет веселей.
Спой мне песню, как синица
Тихо за морем жила;
Спой мне песню, как девица
За водой поутру шла.
Буря мглою небо кроет,
Вихри снежные крутя;
То, как зверь, она завоет,
То заплачет, как дитя.
Выпьем, добрая подружка
Бедной юности моей,
Выпьем с горя: где же кружка?
Сердцу будет веселей.
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