Poetry and our origins (at the Sevilla bloggers meet)
There were some people with a strong interest in culture/art/poetry yesterday at the bloggers meet I attended. I couldn't help giving quite harsh opinions about Neosurrealism and related matters, and someone (who will forgive me because I don't have his blog's address on me, so the link will have to wait) told me that a friend fo his ridicules the current fashion for adopting foreign styles and modes, especially the haiku. This person thinks the traditional forms of Spanish poetry are rich enough and worth exploring. But how can I adapt back into Spanish? I haven't been exposed to enough brilliant Spanish verse that made me want to imitate it.
I think one of the first things I ever read that made me seriously want to write poetry (about six months before I actually did) was some fragements of Middleton's play The Changeling. Middleton was a contemporary of Shakespeare and this play tells a story or two of seduction. De Flores, the villain speaking in these two fragments, is by far Middleton's best character. Because, after reading such brilliant, strong, rich, merciless, rhythmic poetry, do you have any doubt that De Flores will do exactly what he wants with Beatrice?
I, I She had rather wear my pelt tann’d in a pair of dancing pumps,
than I should thrust my fingers into her sockets here;
I know she hates me, yet cannot choose but love her;
no matter, if but to vex her, I’ll haunt her still;
though I get nothing else, I’ll have my will.
II,I Wrangling has prov’d the mistress of good pastime;
as children cry themselves asleep, I ha’seen
Women have chid themselves abed to men.
I, I Más quisiera ella usar mi piel para forrar sus zapatitos,
que dejarme meter los dedos en su guante;
sé que me odia, y no hay nada que hacer, la quiero.
Da igual. La perseguiré, por fastidiarla,
la tenga o no, pues ese es mi capricho.
II, I Las peleas son las criadas del mejor pasatiempo;
igual que los niños que se duermen llorando,
he visto mujeres que refunfuñan camino de la cama.