guess the poet

[pointless]

who wrote this and is it any good in your opinion? i'll give you two clues: it isn't me and he's more famous for his deeds outside of the world of the arts. other clues are available in the poem.



Alone I stand in the autumn cold
On the tip of Orange Island,
The Xiang flowing northward;
I see a thousand hills crimsoned through
By their serried woods deep-dyed,
And a hundred barges vying
Over crystal blue waters.
Eagles cleave the air,
Fish glide under the shallow water;
Under freezing skies a million creatures contend in freedom.
Brooding over this immensity,
I ask, on this bondless land
Who rules over man's destiny?

I was here with a throng of companions,
Vivid yet those crowded months and years.
Young we were, schoolmates,
At life's full flowering;
Filled with student enthusiasm
Boldly we cast all restraints aside.
Pointing to our mountains and rivers,
Setting people afire with our words,
We counted the mighty no more than muck.
Remember still
How, venturing midstream, we struck the waters
And the waves stayed the speeding boats?

 

[pointless]

and it's translated. i hope i'm not violating copyright laws here. he's been dead awhile, so i'm not too sure.

 

[Guest]

Mao Tse-tung -

It sounds as if ruling didn't turn out the way he wished it would be.

(however - it is Friday night, and I haven't had enough wine as of yet to be interpretively maudlin)


My husband just suggested another verse:

"Here I sit, broken hearted . . .


*sigh*

 

[pointless]

good work. have you read it before or did you just guess?

 

[Guest]

Vague remembrance - but I took clues from the poem.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Oh, I know who he is!

It's not a bad poem, I think. A bit too wordy, but overall tight enough for my taste. The second stanza, especially lines 5-9, isn't as good as the first; maybe it needed more distance from personal feelings to pull it off. "Remember still / How, venturing midstream, we struck the waters / And the waves stayed the speeding boats?" is a great ending. I love a big ego.

I'm not going to comment on the style, because this is a translation and my chinese isn't that good.

 

[pointless]

i've read better translations of his poetry, but i lost the book i had in one of my many moves. he's better than you expect a mass murder to be. it's almost scary if you think about it too much.


edited to add: i don't read or speak chinese either, but i've read that it's easily translated, because the chinese don't rely on rhyme scheme and structure as much as us silly westerners.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

I never thought of it as scary. It's almost redeeming for humanity as a whole.

 

[pointless]

here is a link to some more of his work if anyone is interested.mao's poems

the one i posted is changsha , the first listed.

lauren, it's just the way i think of him. when i was younger i used to consider myself a bit of a maoist. i still agree with some of his ideas, but i just never could reconcile myself with the fact that he helped kill 50 million people. it's just a fixation of mine. i'm no longer an active communist, but it still fascinates me.

anyway...



edited to add that damned s i missed the first time.

 

[pointless]

people should feel free to do the same thing here if they feel like it. i don't know how far it could go before it became annoying, but that shouldn't stop anyone. it never stopped me.

 

[HomerPindar]

KEATS!! KEATS!!

oh wait...I'm suppose to read it first huh?

who wrote this and is it any good in your opinion? i'll give you two clues: it isn't me and he's more famous for his deeds outside of the world of the arts. other clues are available in the poem.



Alone I stand in the autumn cold
On the tip of Orange Island,
The Xiang flowing northward;
I see a thousand hills crimsoned through
By their serried woods deep-dyed,
And a hundred barges vying
Over crystal blue waters.
Eagles cleave the air,
Fish glide under the shallow water;
Under freezing skies a million creatures contend in freedom.
Brooding over this immensity,
I ask, on this bondless land
Who rules over man's destiny?

I was here with a throng of companions,
Vivid yet those crowded months and years.
Young we were, schoolmates,
At life's full flowering;
Filled with student enthusiasm
Boldly we cast all restraints aside.
Pointing to our mountains and rivers,
Setting people afire with our words,
We counted the mighty no more than muck.
Remember still
How, venturing midstream, we struck the waters
And the waves stayed the speeding boats?