Posts tagged ‘1974’

Wednesday, 14 April 2021

World Without Birds by Ian Mayelston Mudie

It was only today
(while three white-plumed honeyeaters
feasted among the nectar-heavy blossoms
of the scarlet bottle-brush,
a wagtail called loudly
from the twelve-foot sapling above,
and a pair of crows
went cawing across the sky)
that I thought
of the enormous emptiness
of a world without birds
—songless,
silent,
dead.

From: Mudie, Ian, “World Without Birds” in Westerly, No. 2, June 1974, p. 28.
(https://setis.library.usyd.edu.au/ozlit/westerly/all/53447.pdf)

Date: 1974

By: Ian Mayelston Mudie (1911-1976)

Saturday, 27 March 2021

Western Civilisation by António Agostinho Neto

Tins fixed to stakes
driven in the earth
make the house

Rags complete
the intimate landscape

The sun piercing the cracks
awakens the inhabitant

After twelve hours of slave
labour

Breaking stones
carrying stones
breaking stones
carrying stones
in the sun
in the rain
breaking stones
carrying stones

OId age comes fast

A reed mat on dark nights
enough for him to die on
thankfully
and of hunger.

From: Neto, Agostinho, Sacred Hope, 1974, Tanzania Publishing House: Dar es Salaam, pp. 18-19.
(https://books.google.com.au/books/about/Sacred_Hope.html?id=KGVfAAAAMAAJ)

Date: 1970 (original in Portugese); 1974 (translation in English)

By: António Agostinho Neto (1922-1979)

Translated by: Marga Holness (19??- )

Thursday, 25 June 2020

Poem About Police Violence by June Millicent Jordan

Tell me something
what you think would happen if
everytime they kill a black boy
then we kill a cop
everytime they kill a black man
then we kill a cop
you think the accident rate would lower subsequently?

. . . I lose consciousness of ugly bestial rapid
and repetitive affront as when they tell me
18 cops in order to subdue one man
18 strangled him to death in the ensuing scuffle
(don’t you idolize the diction of the powerful: subdue
and scuffle my oh my) and that the murder
that the killing of Arthur Miller on a Brooklyn
street was just a “justifiable accident” again
(Again)

People been having accidents all over the globe
so long like that I reckon that the only
suitable insurance is a gun
I’m saying war is not to understand or rerun
war is to be fought and won

sometimes the feeling like amaze me baby
blots it out/the bestial but
not too often

tell me something
what you think would happen if
everytime they kill a black boy
then we kill a cop
everytime they kill a black man
then we kill a cop
you think the accident rate would lower subsequently.

From: https://thelivingainteasy.blog/2014/08/

Date: 1974

By: June Millicent Jordan (1936-2002)

Tuesday, 2 April 2019

Lake Monger by William Hart-Smith

On Lake Monger a black swan
makes of its neck an interrogation-mark
punctuating a sentence of ducks.

From: Sadler, R, Hayllar, T and Powell, Suzanne K, The Untamed Fire: Poems for Secondary Students, 1997, Macmillan Education Australia: Melbourne, p. 12.
(https://books.google.com.au/books?id=jgXr43QJGP0C)

Date: ?1974

By: William Hart-Smith (1911-1990)

Thursday, 7 December 2017

A Riddle-Song for Duke Ellington by Craig Williamson

Ten tall ballerinas of bone
Danced on a table of ivory stone––
Clothed like blackbirds warbling home––
And their shoes were like windows,
And their shoes were like bone.

From: Williamson, Craig, “A Riddle-Song for Duke Ellington”, College English, Volume 36, Issue 1, 1974, p. 74.
(http://works.swarthmore.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1029&context=fac-english-lit)

Date: 1974

By: Craig Williamson (1943- )

Monday, 6 June 2016

Ode IV by Hywel ab Owain Gwynedd

My choice, a slim, fair, comely girl,
tall, lovely in her heather-coloured gown.
My chosen experience, to look at womanliness
when it quietly utters a seemly thought.
My choice is to share with and be with a girl
privately, with secrets and with gifts.
My choice, fair colour of the wave,
wise one in your country, is your elegant Welsh.
You are my choice. How do I stand with you?
Why are you silent, my pretty silence?
I’ve chosen a girl of whom I’ll not repent:
it’s right to choose a lovely girl of choice.

From: Williams, Gwyn (tr. & ed.), Welsh Poems: 6th Century to 1600, 1974, University of California Press: Berkeley and Los Angeles, p. 42.
(https://books.google.com.au/books?id=GzYawdzshXAC)

Date: 12th century (original); 1974 (translation)

By: Hywel ab Owain Gwynedd (c1120-1170)

Translated by: David Gwyn Williams (1904-1990)

Friday, 27 May 2016

Lines 80-106 from “The Iliad, Book I” [A Friend Consigned to Death] by Homer

“Sleeping so? Thou hast forgotten me,
Akhilleus. Never was I uncared for
in life but am in death. Accord me burial
in all haste: let me pass the gates of Death.
Shades that are images of used-up men
motion me away, will not receive me
among their hosts beyond the river. I wander
about the wide gates and the hall of Death.
Give me your hand. I sorrow.
When thou shalt have allotted me my fire
I will not fare here from the dark again.
As living men we’ll no more sit apart
from our companions, making plans. The day
of wrath appointed for me at my birth
engulfed and took me down. Thou too, Akhilleus,
face iron destiny, godlike as thou art,
to die under the wall of highborn Trojans.
One more message, one behest, I leave thee:
not to inter my bones apart from thine
but close together, as we grew together,
in thy family’s hall. Menoitios
from Opoeis had brought me, under a cloud,
a boy still, on the day I killed the son
of Lord Amphídamas–though I wished it not–
in childish anger over a game of dice.
Pêleus, master of horse, adopted me
and reared me kindly, naming me your squire.
So may the same urn hide our bones, the one
of gold your gracious mother gave.”

From: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/iliad-book-i-friend-consigned-death

Date: 8th century BC (first written original); 1974 (translation)

By: Homer (?12th century BC or 9th century BC)

Translated by: Robert Stuart Fitzgerald (1910-1985)

Tuesday, 12 April 2016

Rednecks by Randall Stuart (Randy) Newman

Last night I saw Lester Maddox on a TV show
With some smart-ass New York Jew
And the Jew laughed at Lester Maddox
And the audience laughed at Lester Maddox too

Well, he may be a fool but he’s our fool
If they think they’re better than him they’re wrong
So I went to the park and I took some paper along
And that’s where I made this song

We talk real funny down here
We drink too much and we laugh too loud
We’re too dumb to make it no Northern town
We keepin’ the niggers down

We got no-necked oilmen from Texas
And good ol’ boys from Tennessee
And college men from L.S.U.
Went in dumb, come out dumb too

Hustlin’ ’round Atlanta in their alligator shoes
Gettin’ drunk every weekend at the barbecues
We keepin’ the niggers down

We’re rednecks, rednecks
And we don’t know our ass from a hole in the ground
We’re rednecks, we’re rednecks
We keepin’ the niggers down

Now your northern nigger’s a Negro
You see he’s got his dignity
Down here we’re too ignorant to realize
That the North has set the nigger free

Yes, he’s free to be put in a cage in Harlem in New York City
And he’s free to be put in a cage
In the South-Side of Chicago, the West-Side
And he’s free to be put in a cage in Hough in Cleveland
And he’s free to be put in a cage in East St. Louis

And he’s free to be put in a cage in Fillmore in San Francisco
And he’s free to be put in a cage in Roxbury in Boston
They’re gatherin’ ’em up from miles around
Keepin’ the niggers down

We’re rednecks, we’re rednecks
We don’t know our ass from a hole in the ground
We’re rednecks, we’re rednecks
We keepin’ the niggers down
We are keepin’ the niggers down.

From: http://www.vmusic.com.au/lyrics/randy-newman/rednecks-version-lyrics-6558767.aspx

Date: 1974

By: Randall Stuart (Randy) Newman (1943- )

Saturday, 19 November 2011

Shelter From the Storm by Bob Dylan

’Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I’ll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved
Try imagining a place where it’s always safe and warm
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail
Poisoned in the bushes an’ blown out on the trail
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

Suddenly I turned around and she was standin’ there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

Now there’s a wall between us, somethin’ there’s been lost
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much, it’s doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

I’ve heard newborn babies wailin’ like a mournin’ dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation an’ they gave me a lethal dose
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

Well, I’m livin’ in a foreign country but I’m bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor’s edge, someday I’ll make it mine
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

From: http://www.bobdylan.com/songs/shelter-from-the-storm

Date: 1974

By: Bob Dylan (1941- )