L'Albatros (The Albatross)
Souvent, pour s'amuser, les hommes d'équipage
Prennent des albatros, vastes oiseaux des mers,
Qui suivent, indolents compagnons de voyage,
Le navire glissant sur les gouffres amers.
À peine les ont-ils déposés sur les planches,
Que ces rois de l'azur, maladroits et honteux,
Laissent piteusement leurs grandes ailes blanches
Comme des avirons traîner à côté d'eux.
Ce voyageur ailé, comme il est gauche et veule!
Lui, naguère si beau, qu'il est comique et laid!
L'un agace son bec avec un brûle-gueule,
L'autre mime, en boitant, l'infirme qui volait!
Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées
Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l'archer;
Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées,
Ses ailes de géant l'empêchent de marcher.
The Albatross
Often, to amuse themselves, the men of a crew
Catch albatrosses, those vast sea birds
That indolently follow a ship
As it glides over the deep, briny sea.
Scarcely have they placed them on the deck
Than these kings of the sky, clumsy, ashamed,
Pathetically let their great white wings
Drag beside them like oars.
That winged voyager, how weak and gauche he is,
So beautiful before, now comic and ugly!
One man worries his beak with a stubby clay pipe;
Another limps, mimics the cripple who once flew!
The poet resembles this prince of cloud and sky
Who frequents the tempest and laughs at the bowman;
When exiled on the earth, the butt of hoots and jeers,
His giant wings prevent him from walking.
— Translated by William Aggeler
The Albatross
Sometimes for sport the men of loafing crews
Snare the great albatrosses of the deep,
The indolent companions of their cruise
As through the bitter vastitudes they sweep.
Scarce have they fished aboard these airy kings
When helpless on such unaccustomed floors,
They piteously droop their huge white wings
And trail them at their sides like drifting oars.
How comical, how ugly, and how meek
Appears this soarer of celestial snows!
One, with his pipe, teases the golden beak,
One, limping, mocks the cripple as he goes.
The Poet, like this monarch of the clouds,
Despising archers, rides the storm elate.
But, stranded on the earth to jeering crowds,
The great wings of the giant baulk his gait.
— Translated by Roy Campbell
The Albatross
Sometimes, to entertain themselves, the men of the crew
Lure upon deck an unlucky albatross, one of those vast
Birds of the sea that follow unwearied the voyage through,
Flying in slow and elegant circles above the mast.
No sooner have they disentangled him from their nets
Than this aerial colossus, shorn of his pride,
Goes hobbling pitiably across the planks and lets
His great wings hang like heavy, useless oars at his side.
How droll is the poor floundering creature, how limp and weak —
He, but a moment past so lordly, flying in state!
They tease him: One of them tries to stick a pipe in his beak;
Another mimics with laughter his odd lurching gait.
The Poet is like that wild inheritor of the cloud,
A rider of storms, above the range of arrows and slings;
Exiled on earth, at bay amid the jeering crowd,
He cannot walk for his unmanageable wings.
— Translated by George Dillon
Albatrosses
Often our sailors, for an hour of fun,
Catch albatrosses on the after breeze
Through which these trail the ship from sun to sun
As it skims down the deep and briny seas.
Scarce have these birds been set upon the poop,
Than, awkward now, they, the sky's emperors,
Piteous and shamed, let their great white wings droop
Beside them like a pair of idle oars.
These wingèd voyagers, how gauche their gait!
Once noble, now how ludicrous to view!
One sailor bums them with his pipe, his mate
Limps, mimicking these cripples who once flew.
Poets are like these lords of sky and cloud,
Who ride the storm and mock the bow's taut strings,
Exiled on earth amid a jeering crowd,
Prisoned and palsied by their giant wings.
— Translated by Jacques LeClercq
The Albatross
Often, to amuse themselves, the men of the crew
Catch those great birds of the seas, the albatrosses,
lazy companions of the voyage, who follow
The ship that slips through bitter gulfs.
Hardly have they put them on the deck,
Than these kings of the skies, awkward and ashamed,
Piteously let their great white wings
Draggle like oars beside them.
This winged traveler, how weak he becomes and slack!
He who of late was so beautiful, how comical and ugly!
Someone teases his beak with a branding iron,
Another mimics, limping, the crippled flyer!
The Poet is like the prince of the clouds,
Haunting the tempest and laughing at the archer;
Exiled on earth amongst the shouting people,
His giant's wings hinder him from walking.
— Translated by Geoffrey Wagner
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Related quotes
The Albatross
Often to pass the time on board, the crew
will catch an albatross, one of those big birds
which nonchalently chaperone a ship
across the bitter fathoms of the sea.
Tied to the deck, this sovereign of space,
as if embarrassed by its clumsiness,
pitiably lets its great white wings
drag at its sides like a pair of unshipped oars.
How weak and awkward, even comical
this traveller but lately so adoit -
one deckhand sticks a pipestem in its beak,
another mocks the cripple that once flew!
The Poet is like this monarch of the clouds
riding the storm above the marksman's range;
exiled on the ground, hooted and jeered,
he cannot walk because of his great wings.
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Sometimes for sport (Terzanelle)
Sometimes for sport men snare great fish from the deep
like human kings
through wide seas they sweep
seeing huge birds with white wings
and indolent on a cruise
like human kings
they brag about every scratch and bruise
drink their full of whiskey and wine
and indolent on a cruise
are like heroes to themselves without confine
and without care
drink their full of whiskey and wine
and with charm and money they ensnare.
Sometimes for sport men snare great fish from the deep
and without care
through wide seas they sweep.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Early Works - Men With Wings
For years untold men have looked to the sky,
have tried to build wings on which to fly,
like Icraus who with his wings of wax
soared in the sky like a bird,
but who flew to close to the sun
where his wings melted and to the sea fell.
Other men came and other men tried,
in failure their names in time hide,
but soon the missing element was found,
the element, which could get them off the ground.
An Albatross of plastic wings
soars through the early morning sky
across a channel of salty waves
of which it glides just above.
From Eagle and Dragonfly,
man now has the ability to fly.
Author’s Note:
The above poem was written as a tribute to the men of the Gossamer Albatross who crossed the English Channel on the 12th June 1979.
13 June 1979
poem by David Harris
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Airborne for philip housiaux
Always airborne an Albatross
can easily vast oceans cross
They eat and sleep upon the wing
and rarely land for anything.
But even Albatrosses mate
although more often isolate.
They come together as a pair.
You cannot raise chicks in the air.
But once the young have learnt to fly.
Received the freedom of the sky.
They the resume the seperate
life style they appreciate.
An Albatross prefers to be
left alone completely free.
18-Apr-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Tale Of Winter
A Tale Of Winter
my wings of ice
flutter twice
the snow yet so white
my gleaming sun hovering at great height
silver birds gliding gently
icy snow flakes falling silently
my giant wings of frost
a frozen pond that once was lost
frozen plants shining in the sun
snow balls flying, oh what fun
a giant snowman standing in the wood
children playing like good friends should
a coal fire burning bright
a red robin about to take flight
my new sledge with only one splinter
i will never forget my beautiful tale of winter
poem by James Chaplin
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Wings
If GOD had given man wings
As he did the angels upon their birth
Would Man be satisfied with the Earth below
Or would he neglect all and for GOD he would search.
Would he throw all of his dreams and wishes away
As he would fly towards the heavens and sky
Would his only thought was to find GOD himself
And forever he would search until he would die.
Would his life be forever searching
And never one place would he call home
Neglecting the Earth and soil on the ground below
And always would he roam.
If GOD had given man wings
As he did to the birds up in the sky
Would GOD want man to visit him
Or just to give Man the ability to try.
Would Man then think that he was GODS equal
If he too like the birds had wings on his back
Or would he think that he was one of GODS Angels
And then against creatures he would fight and attack.
But then GOD he indeed knows all
As been preached by pastors, leaders and Kings
So I look up in the sky as the birds soar with content
I am am so happy GOD never gave man any wings.
poem by Randy McClave
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Paradise: In A Symbol
Golden-winged, silver-winged,
Winged with flashing flame,
Such a flight of birds I saw,
Birds without a name:
Singing songs in their own tongue
(Song of songs) they came.
One to another calling,
Each answering each,
One to another calling
In their proper speech:
High above my head they wheeled,
Far out of reach.
On wings of flame they went and came
With a cadenced clang,
Their silver wings tinkled,
Their golden wings rang,
The wind it whistled through their wings
Where in Heaven they sang.
They flashed and they darted
Awhile before mine eyes,
Mounting, mounting, mounting still
In haste to scale the skies—
Birds without a nest on earth,
Birds of Paradise.
Where the moon riseth not,
Nor sun seeks the west,
There to sing their glory
Which they sing at rest,
There to sing their love-song
When they sing their best:
Not in any garden
That mortal foot hath trod,
Not in any flowering tree
That springs from earthly sod,
But in the garden where they dwell,
The Paradise of God.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Poetry: Ode to Eagle
Ode to Eagle
By Laijon Liu 20091010
-O1-
Who are you, my love, soaring so high!
The god of all birds, a king of azure sky
On the precipitous cliff you make home
Off the lofty peak you leap a great dive
You call up the morning sun to ascend
And escort the moon where she roams
Earth revolves under your mighty talons
And heaven is for your wings to mete
-O2-
A pair firm claws, steel dagger sharp
Where your enemies find no escape
Above the vast land or the roaring sea
All livings are under your decree
Your eyes are made of pure gold
To see through the hour of dark night
Who dares to stare at the glorious sun?
And catch the true splendor of light!
-O3-
Upon the high rock you pick your nest
Above the deep sea you set window-view
And facing the cold winds you make love
There you raise young, hatch a brave heart
All worlds look up and envy your spot
But they never know how much you sacrifice
Your title and fame must cost so much
Upon that rocky cliff, in the gushing winds
-O4-
Lonesome and pride is the way of your life
It’s against your deity to group with a flock
No one dares to dictate your hour of flight
And no peak or valley is out of your reach
Toward the sun you stare and rise head on
And into the wintry wave you make a splash
White clouds are for your wings to smash
Rain and snow are your showers and bath
-O5-
Nature has preordained your tragic fate
Struggling since birth, fighting to become
Where your infant bed is a wrestling court
And then your test flight is a deadly dive
Yet you raise your hooked beak proudly
Stretch your broad wings measuring winds
Hop your muscular legs for a great leap
To aim the sun and answer the storm
-O6-
How calm you are, driving the winds above
Rise and fall freely, soar and turn with ease
Where in the sky you find dragon is a myth
And shadow of phoenix disappeared in sun
The idols on earth all become fairytale news
Only your wings and spirit are true examples
Death and fear can never conquer you in life
Dream and desires are all possible to reach
-O7-
Oh my great Bird, a miracle you pursue!
You’re hatched on cliff and born of storm
Sun above you and earth down below
Sky your lodge and death is like a home
In the gushing winds you howl battle cry
Into the cold waves you toy snowflake
Through the challenges you grow strong
And in turmoil and crisis you obtain peace
-O8-
Who is the maker of your striking shape?
Who gifted you a pair golden pupil
For the far vision and detail view?
Who gave you a pair brave wings
To set your faith fly and courage to dive?
Who made your nest on high cliff?
Who drove the winds and storms
And the red sun over the blue sea?
***Who made you, so great? ***
poem by Laijon Liu
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La Pipe (The Pipe)
Je suis la pipe d'un auteur;
On voit, à contempler ma mine
D'Abyssinienne ou de Cafrine,
Que mon maître est un grand fumeur.
Quand il est comblé de douleur,
Je fume comme la chaumine
Où se prépare la cuisine
Pour le retour du laboureur.
J'enlace et je berce son âme
Dans le réseau mobile et bleu
Qui monte de ma bouche en feu,
Et je roule un puissant dictame
Qui charme son coeur et guérit
De ses fatigues son esprit.
The Pipe
I am the pipe of an author;
One sees by my color,
Abyssinian or Kaffir,
That my master's a great smoker.
When he is laden with sorrow,
I smoke like a cottage
Where they are preparing dinner
For the return of the ploughman.
I clasp and lull his soul
In the wavy blue web
That rises from my fiery mouth.
I give forth clouds of dittany
That warm his heart and cure
His mind of its fatigue.
— Translated by William Aggeler
The Author's Pipe
I am an author's pipe. To see me
And my outlandish shape to heed,
You'd know my master was a dreamy
Inveterate smoker of the weed.
When be is loaded down with care,
I like a stove will smoke and burn
Wherein the supper they prepare
Against the labourer's return.
I nurse his spirit with my charm
Swaying it in a soft, uncertain,
And vaguely-moving azure curtain.
I roll a potent cloud of balm
To lull his spirit into rest
And cure the sorrows in his breast.
— Translated by Roy Campbell
A Poet's Pipe
A poet's pipe am I,
And my Abyssinian tint
Is an unmistakable hint
That he lays me not often by.
When his soul is with grief o'erworn
I smoke like the cottage where
They are cooking the evening fare
For the laborer's return.
I enfold and cradle his soul
In the vapors moving and blue
That mount from my fiery mouth;
And there is power in my bowl
To charm his spirit and soothe,
And heal his weariness too.
Translated by Richard Herne Shepherd
The Pipe
I am an author's pipe;
From examining my Abyssinian
Or Kaffir countenance, one sees
That my master is a great smoker.
When he is laden with sorrow,
I smoke like a cottage
When the cooking is being prepared
Against the laborer's return
I entwine and I cradle his soul
In the drifting, blue film
That climbs from my fiery mouth,
And I turn a powerful balm
Which charms his heart and heals
His spirit of fatigues.
— Translated by Geoffrey Wagner
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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The Awakening River
The gulls are mad-in-love with the river,
And the river unveils her face and smiles.
In her sleep-brooding eyes they mirror their shining wings.
She lies on silver pillows: the sun leans over her.
He warms and warms her, he kisses and kisses her.
There are sparks in her hair and she stirs in laughter.
Be careful, my beautiful waking one! You will catch
on fire.
Wheeling and flying with the foam of the sea on their
breasts,
The ineffable mists of the sea clinging to their wild wings,
Crying the rapture of the boundless ocean,
The gulls are mad-in-love with the river.
Wake! we are the dream thoughts flying form your heart.
Wake! we are the songs of desire flowing from your
bosom.
O, I think the sun will lend her his great wings
And the river will fly to the sea with the mad-in-
love birds.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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The Sun Bird
The sun bird flew high and high
for its destination was sun
but as it drew near its wings did burn
from the heat of the sun but it did not die
it fell down on the earth
and waited till its wings took rebirth
it again flew only to burn its wings and fall
towards the earth but its hope stood atall
for mythology says its divine love for sun
has given it power not to die from burn
so with patience infinite again it flew
with hopes full and wings anew
towards the sun only to burn
but it got up again and flew
towards the sun
towards its destination
poem by Anjesh shekhar
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PENguin and Poet
What is in common
between
a Penguin and a Poet?
You may guess
the PEN?
Or the bizarre
Dress Code?
I think they both,
like Fallen Angels
from the Heaven
with hints of Wings
are walking thoughtful
on the Earth
and only
while swimming
in the Ocean
(of Words) :
they leave the Earth
show Wings in Action,
in Swimming - Flying,
nimbleness,
(nimbuses) ,
a heavenly Strength...
Sofia,06.06.2008
poem by ONElia AVElar
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On Silent Wings
(t. j. white, j. ralston)
Producer: trevor horn
Album: wildest dreams (96)
Special guest: sting
There was a time when I would have followed you
To the end of the earth
I was willing to share it all with you
The love, the hurt
Ive seen you when your dreams were falling in the dust
But I never stopped believing in you
I always thought our love was strong enough
One you could hold on to
You never see it coming
You just let it fly
On silent wings, silent wings
You cant hide what you you feel inside
And the fire has left your eyes
On silent wings
I see us in our dreams and were dancing
I can almost hear the song
But the prayers, they go unanswered
But we both know, were just hanging on
I feel ashamed, but Ill never know the reason why
The rug was pulled so gently from under my feet
I only know that something good has died
Between you and me, oh its just a memory
You never see it coming
You just go separate ways
On silent wings, silent wings
Theres no more promises to break
Or our love has slipped away
On silent wings
You never see it coming
But you know it has to end
On silent wings, silent wings
I will never be the same again
I feel the whisper of the wind
On silent wings
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If My Verses Had The Wings
Songs as sweet as summer brings,
To your flowery lawn should fly
If my verses had the wings—
Wings of birds that haunt the sky.
Like the spark that upward springs,
They would seek your smiling hearth,
If my verses had the wings—
Wings such as a spirth hath.
Near you, close as ivy clings,
They would dwell by night and day
If my verses had the wings—
Wings like love to speed the way.
poem by Victor Hugo
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How Much For Your Wings?
How much for your wings?
How much for your wings?
Well it comes and it goes
How much for your wings?
And its high and low
How much for your wings?
I can name a price
How much for your wings?
Many forget their pride
Chorus
If I were you and and you were me
Wed know
And could it be what you perceive
Is wrong?
And what I mean what wrong could be
I dont know
Im not naive but I believe
So I may grow
How much for your wings?
The soul you kiss good-bye
How much for your wings?
Watch the stars collide
How does it feel
When youre the only one?
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Icarus
Early in the morning sunlight
Soaring on the wings of dawn
Here I'll live and die with my wings in the sky
And I won't come down no more
Higher than a bird I'm flying
Crimson skies of ice and fire
Borne on wings of steel I have so much to feel
And I won't come down no more
Sail on, sail on, I will rise each day to meet the dawn
So high, so high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Without my wings you know I'd surely die
I found my freedom flyin' high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Floating on a cloud of amber
Searching for the rainbow's end
Earth so far below me,
I'm here alone, free
I can't come down no more
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Icarus - Borne On Wings Of Steel
Early in the morning sunlight
Soaring on the wings of dawn
Here I'll live and die with my wings in the sky
And I won't come down no more
Higher than a bird I'm flying
Crimson skies of ice and fire
Borne on wings of steel I have so much to feel
And I won't come down no more
Sail on, sail on, I will rise each day to meet the dawn
So high, so high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Without my wings you know I'd surely die
I found my freedom flyin' high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Floating on a cloud of amber
Searching for the rainbow's end
Earth so far below me,
I'm here alone, free
I can't come down no more
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Wings Of Love
Its good to know
I love your love
Which share for way the wind blows
Our guiding light
That would shine on
Through the darkest night
When the world seems like its full of strangers
And I feel as if I lost my way
You lift me up on the wings of love
Taking me highest still with every touch
When ever im weak, honey
You take me there again
On the wings of love
Its all in me
When you hold me
And whisper tenderly
That im the one
You love forever
What else could I want
Even life where we are going changes
And when the dreams I had get swept away
You lift me up on the wings of love
Taking me highest still with every touch
When ever Im weak, honey
You take me there again
On the wings of love
(im flying high)
Its all I need when you hold me close
And you whisper tenderly
On the wings of love
Highest still with every touch
When ever im weak, honey
You take me there again
On the wings of love
You lift me up on the wings of love
Highest still with every touch
When ever Im weak, honey
You take me there again
On the wings of love
On the wings of love
song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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RainCoveredSKY
RainCoveredSKY
Author Message
Admin
Admin
Number of posts: 100
Age: 54
Localisation: Tucson
Registration date: 2007-06-26
Subject: RainCoveredSKY Today at 10: 52
--------------------
RainCoveredSKY
The sky is Western Covered sky dark for half the canopy is covered up the smell of rain filters down some conflicting with the surroundings the landscaping the hey fever springing here nearby. The birds were swimming in the sky the western sky with wings folded they glide then extend the wings again then fold them back confused by the wind in western sky. They glide then fly then glide. The poet however must walk than lamely then halting lame he walks under the western sky rain never falls but clouds roll out of the valley walls but back they come as poet walks. He walks and as he limps along he notices them the gliding flying birds are gone.
RainCoveredSKY
poem by Charles Hice
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Featherless wings
last night i dream that i was walking in the clouds, huge
heavenly petals like pebbles wash away my tears, a moist
of silver blue drifted my pink cheek; cool, smooth and soft
as i feel it, clear as the ocean wave and beautiful as rainbow
when the sun scatter its radiant ray where i seat in the
cumulus formation of clouds beneath my feet
in a glance, speed like light passing through my eye, blinking
without control while my nose seems white as a snow failed
to breathe the air, choking with my eye staring above my head,
thinking that this might be the end, as the naked eye said adieu
death comes like a thief of the night, then i have to go, but in a
sudden moment i notice that iam not alone in the wilderness of
beautiful clouds, their are humanoid form of being floating
waving, cheering, singing sweet melody of song, and calling
many name, whispering me not to be lonely; it’s the clouds that
made us to hope, it’s the song that give us the feather to fly and
it’s the dream that leads us go, to a place, we almost have to
know
waiting for a day of night and day, seems no end, not a single
feather grown in my body cause me pain, bother and confuse
leads my way to pray, that in my featherless wings i can reach
the sky; fly my featherless wings fly up, up to the heaven above,
guide my dream in your own destiny, a place where my soul will
be happy, stay with me winged angels, featherless wings has to
fly high with you in the heaven above
oh! dream show me the way my featherless wings have something
to say, please listen my winged angels and hear my
featherless voice.......
“angels wings is made not of feather, it’s a deep faith of their
loyalty to God, tangible and form like wings”
poem by Antonio Liao
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