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Patagonia Lost**, About Argentine Patagonia, where I grew up. |
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Aug 4 17, 00:17
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,882
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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I've posted this poem here because it has end rhymes. Not all perfect ones. I'm mostly interested in a few suggestions to give the lines some sort of fixed form, perhaps changing some words to achieve that. I don't want a complete re-write of my poem, so if it's too complicated don't take the trouble! Thanks a lot!
PATAGONIA LOST
In many ways I’ve left behind the dreams and loves I cherished most, and yet as years go by the word adios still binds me to the coos of turtledoves; the glare of Austral skies, where a circling bird
swoops to snatch a creature fleeing in the brush. Of trails Tehuelche braves stalked in bygone days, or nomad’s camps safe from the Holy Grail rush; before winka sliced the steppes with railways
forged by slaves to traffic Remingtons, or purged the patterned prairies of jaguars and ñandues. Concrete dams and buzzing pylons emerged on cactus lands, carcasses shed lucent hues
on llanos swept anhydrous by the wailing winds. Thus memory is laced with fuzzy images of childhood pastures… heartstrings my thoughts will not let go despite the ravages
of time and loss. So to the present day I smile at all my lost or wayward worlds -red horizons receding in a cone of plangent light- meanwhile spirits summon me from crowded pantheons
of Patagonian lore. Captive of the fading tones that grip my heart or force an odd grimace cling to phantom walls, I cannot rouse the swaying poplar trees, nor speak to you, caress your face.
by Psyche.
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Replies
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Aug 11 17, 11:52
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 18,591
Joined: 2-August 03
From: Southwest New Jersey, USA
Member No.: 6
Real Name: Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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Greetings, Sylvia...
I too had been working on your piece for some time, but unfortunately there must have been some computer update the other day, and it erased all my work on the program that I was using! Frustrated, I gave up... but I'm back to try to recoup some of what I'd observed.
You have here a very nice ballad which is for the most part in iambic hexameter. With a little work, the significant variations can be shifted with the suggestions that I offer... which of course you may take or toss: PATAGONIA LOST In many ways I’ve left behind the dreams and loves I cherished most, and yet as years go by the word adiós still binds me to the coos of turtledoves; [italicizing and accenting "adios" suggest the Spanish rather than English pronunciation, which is close to iambic] the glare of Austral skies, where in which a circling bird swoops down to snatch a creature fleeing in the brush. Of trails Tehuelche braves had stalked in bygone days, or nomad s' camps safe from the Holy Grail 's dark rush; before the winka sliced the steppes with to forge railways [I could find no information about the "winka" !! What were they?]forged by with peasant slaves to traffic Remingtons, or purged the patterned prairies of swift jaguars and ñandus. [no e in plural]Great concrete dams and buzzing pylons then emerged on cactus lands, and carcasses shed lucent hues on llanos swept anhydrous by the wailing winds. Thus memory is laced with fuzzy images of childhood pastures 'til my heartstrings pluck, chagrined;my thoughts will not let go despite the ravages of time and loss. So to the present day I smile at all my lost or wayward worlds -red horizons at lost or wayward worlds, horizon's deep maroonreceding in a cone of plangent light- meanwhile some spirit (s) summon s (me) from a crowded pantheon (s)of Patagonian lore. Held captive of the fading greyingtones that grip my heart or force an odd grimace embracethat cling s to phantom walls, I cannot rouse the swaying poplar trees, nor speak to you, caress your face. Well, there it is, Sylvia... as close to Iambic Hexameter as I could shift it. By the way, if you read the last verse as I hear it, the extra syllable of the 1st and 3rd lines bleeds into the "missing" syllable of lines 2 and 4.
deLighting always in your sharing, Daniel
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Aug 12 17, 01:13
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,882
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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Hi Daniel, Thanks so much for taking valuable time off to scan my ballad. And I'm especially sorry that you lost the first draft due to computer troubles. That's so terribly discouraging, so I'm all the more grateful for your assistance.
Now I have to study both your's and Larry's suggestions, so it will take me a while to get my act together... LOL.
I've put "adiós" with its correct pronunciation, that's why it's in italics.
As for "winka", it's the indigenous term for "white man", "stranger" and finally "liar". It can be spelt in various ways, such as "wingka" or "huinca" (the 'h' is soundless). As mapuzungun was an oral language, same as most very ancient idioms, there are now about three dictionaries by different authors. The most accepted is the one that uses the European 'w' and 'k', and others. The usage of 'h' is of Spanish origin. It has no sound, no 'g' or 'j' pronunciation, so it's really 'ui' that sounds like 'w'. Do I make it clear? Can't go over this again coz my Fibromyalgia is killing me.
I'll work on this and try to better the meter. Many thanks once again, best, Sylvia
QUOTE (JustDaniel @ Aug 11 17, 13:52 ) Greetings, Sylvia...
I too had been working on your piece for some time, but unfortunately there must have been some computer update the other day, and it erased all my work on the program that I was using! Frustrated, I gave up... but I'm back to try to recoup some of what I'd observed.
You have here a very nice ballad which is for the most part in iambic hexameter. With a little work, the significant variations can be shifted with the suggestions that I offer... which of course you may take or toss: PATAGONIA LOST In many ways I’ve left behind the dreams and loves I cherished most, and yet as years go by the word adiós still binds me to the coos of turtledoves; [italicizing and accenting "adios" suggest the Spanish rather than English pronunciation, which is close to iambic] the glare of Austral skies, where in which a circling bird swoops down to snatch a creature fleeing in the brush. Of trails Tehuelche braves had stalked in bygone days, or nomad s' camps safe from the Holy Grail 's dark rush; before the winka sliced the steppes with to forge railways [I could find no information about the "winka" !! What were they?]forged by with peasant slaves to traffic Remingtons, or purged the patterned prairies of swift jaguars and ñandus. [no e in plural]Great concrete dams and buzzing pylons then emerged on cactus lands, and carcasses shed lucent hues on llanos swept anhydrous by the wailing winds. Thus memory is laced with fuzzy images of childhood pastures 'till my heartstrings pluck, chagrined;my thoughts will not let go despite the ravages of time and loss. So to the present day I smile at all my lost or wayward worlds -red horizons at lost or wayward worlds, horizon's deep maroonreceding in a cone of plangent light- meanwhile some spirit (s) summon s (me) from a crowded pantheon (s)of Patagonian lore. Held captive of the fading greyingtones that grip my heart or force an odd grimace embracethat cling s to phantom walls, I cannot rouse the swaying poplar trees, nor speak to you, caress your face. Well, there it is, Sylvia... as close to Iambic Hexameter as I could shift it. By the way, if you read the last verse as I hear it, the extra syllable of the 1st and 3rd lines bleeds into the "missing" syllable of lines 2 and 4.
deLighting always in your sharing, Daniel
······· ·······
Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Posts in this topic
Psyche Patagonia Lost** Aug 4 17, 00:17 Ali zonak QUOTE (Psyche @ Aug 4 17, 01:17 ) I'v... Aug 4 17, 14:29 Psyche QUOTE (Ali zonak @ Aug 4 17, 16:29 ) QUOT... Aug 11 17, 00:04 Larry Hi Syl,
I’ve been working on this since I saw it ... Aug 10 17, 14:27 Psyche Hi Larry,
Wow, thank you for going to such a lot o... Aug 11 17, 00:17 JustDaniel Thank you for the explanation of "winka... Aug 12 17, 02:32
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