Declaración de intenciones

Este blog intenta tener cubiertos al menos dos sentidos del hipotético visitante: la vista y el oído. La vista resulta evidente y el oído se consigue haciendo clic en el título de cada entrada.
Espero que lo disfrutéis.

viernes, 23 de junio de 2006

¿Qué es poesía?


Kubla Khan
OR, A VISION IN A DREAM. A FRAGMENT.
(Samuel Taylor Coleridge)

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted

By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced :
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst

Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :

And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war !

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,

Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,

That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Music: Humility © Wim Mertens Posted by Picasa

4 comentarios:

Pedro Terán dijo...

No sé si te lo vas a creer, pero he acabado de leerlo exactamente en el mismo momento que acababa la música.

A la segunda o tercera lectura lo habré digerido todo mejor.

Bliss dijo...

Tómate tu tiempo, creo que lo merece.

:)

casdeiro dijo...

:-D ¿Te creerás que precisamente ayer leí acerca de este poema y que Coleridge lo escribió puesto de opio hasta las patas..? X-D

Bliss dijo...

Efectivamente, y por eso está inconcluso, porque se le pasó el efecto antes de acabarlo y no fue capaz de concluirlo en la misma línea ;-)