"Satyrs at Play" - aediculaantinoi.wordpress.com: HADRIAN and ANTINOUS finally release their embrace, and notice DIONYSOS

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

No Island is an island

No man is an island;
No Island is an island.

No Man Is An Island

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

John Donne


Human beings do not thrive when isolated from others. Donne was a Christian but this concept is shared by other religions, principally Buddhism.


No man is an island - John DonneThis is a quotation from John Donne (1572-1631). It appears in Devotions upon emergent occasions and seuerall steps in my sicknes - Meditation XVII, 1624:
"All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated...As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness....No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
See also: the List of Proverbs.
I Am a Rock
Simon And Garfunkel I Am A Rock Lyrics

A winter's day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Don't talk of love,
But I've heard the words before;
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.

Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/s/simon+and+garfunkel/i+am+a+rock_20124809.html  

paul simon i am an island - YouTube Search


Sunday, October 21, 2012

Life is a dance

Life is a dance and dance is life. At glance:
"How can we know the dancer from the dance?"


Among School Children 

William Butler Yeats


I walk through the long schoolroom questioning;
A kind old nun in a white hood replies;
The children learn to cipher and to sing,
To study reading-books and histories,
To cut and sew, be neat in everything
In the best modern way—the children’s eyes
In momentary wonder stare upon
A sixty-year-old smiling public man.


I dream of a Ledaean body, bent
Above a sinking fire.  a tale that she
Told of a harsh reproof, or trivial event
That changed some childish day to tragedy—
Told, and it seemed that our two natures blent
Into a sphere from youthful sympathy,
Or else, to alter Plato’s parable,
Into the yolk and white of the one shell.


And thinking of that fit of grief or rage
I look upon one child or t’other there
And wonder if she stood so at that age—
For even daughters of the swan can share
Something of every paddler’s heritage—
And had that colour upon cheek or hair,
And thereupon my heart is driven wild:
She stands before me as a living child.


Her present image floats into the mind—
Did Quattrocento finger fashion it
Hollow of cheek as though it drank the wind
And took a mess of shadows for its meat?
And I though never of Ledaean kind
Had pretty plumage once—enough of that,
Better to smile on all that smile, and show
There is a comfortable kind of old scarecrow.


What youthful mother, a shape upon her lap
Honey of generation had betrayed,
And that must sleep, shriek, struggle to escape
As recollection or the drug decide,
Would think her Son, did she but see that shape
With sixty or more winters on its head,
A compensation for the pang of his birth,
Or the uncertainty of his setting forth?


Plato thought nature but a spume that plays
Upon a ghostly paradigm of things;
Solider Aristotle played the taws
Upon the bottom of a king of kings;
World-famous golden-thighed Pythagoras
Fingered upon a fiddle-stick or strings
What a star sang and careless Muses heard:
Old clothes upon old sticks to scare a bird.


Both nuns and mothers worship images,
But thos the candles light are not as those
That animate a mother’s reveries,
But keep a marble or a bronze repose.
And yet they too break hearts—O presences
That passion, piety or affection knows,
And that all heavenly glory symbolise—
O self-born mockers of man’s enterprise;


Labour is blossoming or dancing where
The body is not bruised to pleasure soul.
Nor beauty born out of its own despair,
Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil.
O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer,
Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?

Online text © 1998-2012 Poetry X. All rights reserved.
From The Tower | 1928
W. B. Yeats - From Wikipedia

William Butler Yeats (play /ˈjts/ YAYTS; 13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939) was an Irish poet and one of the foremost figures of 20th century literature.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

NYT: A Manhattan federal appeals court has become the second to strike down the Defense of Marriage Act | More than half of the nation’s Latinos are in favor of same-sex marriage, according to a Pew survey released on Thursday

A Second Appeals Court Calls Marriage Law Unfair to Gays
A Manhattan federal appeals court has become the second to strike down the Defense of Marriage Act.

Gay Marriage Finds Growing Support Among Latinos

More than half of the nation’s Latinos are in favor of same-sex marriage, according to a Pew survey released on Thursday.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Two tiny specks in the ocean

Two tiny specks in the ocean merging into The One in Infinity.
Scary. Will they come back?


They did come back.

Hadrian in Baiae

Hadrian in Baiae

When the waters of his body started to overflow, drown and suffocate him, Hadrian retired reluctantly and secluded himself in Baiae. The empire was secure on all frontiers; Egyptian bread and foreign gladiators in abundance in Rome, senators pacified and locked in a respectful silence.
He released his physicians in disgust, muttering angrily: "Thy art is devoid of knowledge..." He studied it himself and knew it too well.
He also knew who poisoned him: the old Hebrew with empty sunny eyes, whom he rewarded so generously. His unusual exotic fruits were too sweet and too delicious and caused an insatiable deep thirst which could never be quenched. So they could repeat for centuries: "May his bones rot!"
He tried to kill himself three times and each time his vigilant servants wrestled the knife out of his hands. Servianus' prayer thus turned into a curse and a prophesy: "Wish your own death but do not get it!"
His memories became his lonely walking paths, his thoughts - his only delight and entertainment. He contemplated the nature of gods and men and the fate of The Empire.

A bust of Hadrian, National Archaeological Museum of Athens.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

To all my friends

To all my friends:
You all are so wonderful, and I feel so happy and so proud to be with you and to be a part of you! I love you all, Michael.

"We have the honor and privilege to walk hand-in-hand..."

Monday, October 8, 2012


¿Puedes escuchar, Fernando?
Me recuerda tiempo atrás,
estrellas y una noche allá
En la lumbre azul, Fernando
tarareabas tu canción
con ese suave guitarrear
Yo podía escuchar esos
tambores con un sordo redoblar

Se acercaban más, Fernando
y el momento que pasaba
parecía eternidad
Y sentí temor, Fernando
Por la vida y juventud nadie
pensaba en morir
y no siento hoy vergüenza al
confesar que tuve ganas de llorar

Algo había alrededor, quizá,
de claridad, Fernando
que brillaba por nosotros dos
en protección, Fernando
No pensábamos jamás perder,
ni echar atrás
Si tuviera que volverlo a hacer,
lo haría ya, Fernando
Si tuviera que volverlo a hacer,
lo haría ya, Fernando

La vejez llegó, Fernando
y con ella una paz que hoy
logramos disfrutar
¿Se durmió el tambor, Fernando?
Pareciera que fue ayer
que lo vivimos tú y yo
y en tus ojos veo aún aquel
orgullo que refleja tu valor.

Algo había alrededor, quizá,
de claridad, Fernando
que brillaba por nosotros dos
en protección, Fernando
No pensábamos jamás perder,
ni echar atrás
Si tuviera que volverlo a hacer,
lo haría ya, Fernando
Si tuviera que volverlo a hacer,
lo haría ya, Fernando

Algo había alrededor, quizá,
de claridad, Fernando
que brillaba por nosotros dos
en protección, Fernando
No pensábamos jamás perder,
ni echar atrás
Si tuviera que volverlo a hacer,
lo haría ya, Fernando
Si tuviera que volverlo a hacer,
lo haría ya, Fernando
Can you hear the drums Fernando?
I remember long ago another starry night like this
In the firelight Fernando
You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar
I could hear the distant drums
And sounds of bugle calls were coming from afar

They were closer now Fernando
Every hour every minute seemed to last eternally
I was so afraid Fernando
We were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die
And I'm not ashamed to say
The roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando

Now we're old and grey Fernando
And since many years I haven't seen a rifle in your hand
Can you hear the drums Fernando?
Do you still recall the frightful night we crossed the Rio Grande?
I can see it in your eyes
How proud you were to fight for freedom in this land

(Repeat x2)
There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando

Yes, if I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando...

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Pomegranate Songs

Pomegranate Grove



We'll plant the trees
Tall will they grow and strong
And will bear the fruits:
One lithe red kernel next to the other
Ready to bleed, ready to die
For nothing less would do.

( How to eat a pomegranate )

We'll put them together
And will extract the Truth
For nothing less would do.

We'll plant the trees
Sweet will be the juice.


( The pomegranate boasts of a long and romantic history, featured in Egyptian art and mentioned in the Old Testament. It is native from Iran to the Himalayas. With sufficient space, you can set up a grove to create a commercial quantity of the ruby-red, seeded fruit. Well-maintained trees can live for centuries, as witnessed by pomegranates living at Versailles.

Does this Spark an idea? 

    • 1
      Site the grove in full sun, in an area containing well-drained soil.
    • 2
      Create trees by following the standard process for hardwood cuttings to produce sufficient plants for the grove. In late winter, take cuttings measuring 10 to 20 inches long with pruning shears from an existing tree. Set the cuttings in beds with one or two buds above the soil. Leave in place for one year.
  • 3
    Move the rooted cuttings to a pit 2 feet deep and wide, spacing them 12 to 18 inches apart. Water deeply. Allow the plants to grow for two more years, removing suckers and lower branches to create a main stem. Fertilize the pomegranates with 1 or 2 cups of ammonium sulfate, applied into three applications in February, May and September.
  • 4
    Locate the 3-year-old pomegranates to their permanent grove. Dig up the trees, creating a substantial root ball. Space them 12 to 20 feet apart; the pomegranates will grow up to 20 or 30 feet tall. Water the trees thoroughly.
  • 5
    Harvest the grove’s fruits in summer and into the fall. Apply copper fungicide according to the manufacturer’s instructions if you see signs of fruit splitting.

  • Read more: How to Grow a Pomegranate Grove | eHow.com )


    On Nations and "Nationalism"

    On Nations and "Nationalism":
    Language is just a vehicle for communications. The love for your country can be expressed in any language, and many great countries and empires used two or more languages for their various communications. "Nationalism" (in quote marks because many different people mean many different things by it) is the love for your country and your people taken into extreme, and like all "extremes" is too far off the mark, besides being intellectually quite limited, to put it mildly; in difference with "patriotism" which is a healthy and mature such love. For example, there is no inherent contradiction in being a Puerto Rican and an American at the same time. Just the opposite: this is exactly where the "synergy" is.

    Spider Bite

    Spider Bite turns you into a Spider.
    "What does not kill us makes us stronger."
    Because the venom is absorbed and incorporated.

    It gets more refined and more concentrated
    With each passage from spider to spider
    And from target to target.

    True Spiders are immune to it.

    It is a wine to a friend
    It is a death to a foe.

    Saturday, September 29, 2012

    Communications have to be beautifully simple, meaningful, direct and clear, whenever it is possible

    I think that one of our problems is excessive self-referential perceptions and ideation as a product of "psychoanalytic mentality and process". It became ingrained in our both everyday and intellectual cultures and became one of its main poisons and schizophrenias, leading to misunderstandings, confusions, insecurities and conflicts. Communications have to be beautifully simple, meaningful, direct and clear, whenever it is possible. This is not to say that complexities and references do not exist. They do, but they should not mudden the picture. The most successful communicators are those who are able to clear and navigate these, sometimes almost impassable jungles easily, make a sense of it all at a first glance and to make a way for others, their followers. Someone said that about a half of all confusion and misunderstandings in science is due to its imprecise, confused and overlapping terminology. To continue this thought, we can say that about a half of all misunderstandings and confusion in social communications are due to their misunderstood, misapplied and misinterpreted references and self-references.

    Thursday, September 27, 2012

    Why don't we get together and call ourselves an Institute? (Re - a - lly?)

    Why don't we get together and call ourselves an Institute?

     (Re - a - lly?)

    Paul Simon- I Know What I Know
     She looked me over
    And I guess she thought
    I was all right
    All right in a sort of a limited way
    For an off-night
    She said don't I know you
    From the cinematographer's party
    I said who am I
    To blow against the wind
    I know what I know
    I'll sing what I said
    We come and we go
    That's a thing that I keep
    In the back of my head

    She said there's something about you
    That really reminds me of money
    She is the kind of a girl
    Who could say things that
    Weren't that funny
    I said what does that mean
    I really remind you of money
    She said who am I
    To blow against the wind

    I know what I know
    I'll sing what I said
    We come and we go
    That's a thing that I keep
    In the back of my head

    She moved so easily
    All I could think of was sunlight
    I said aren't you the women
    Who was recently given a Fulbright
    She said don't I know you
    From the cinematographer's party
    I said who am I
    To blow against the wind

    I know what I know
    I'll sing what I said
    We come and we go
    That's a thing that I keep
    In the back of my head
    Gumboots Paul Simon
    I was having this discussion
    in a taxi heading downtown
    rearranging my position
    on this friend of mine
    who'd had a little bit of a breakdown
    I said hey you know breakdowns come
    and breakdowns go so
    what are you gonna do about it,
    that's what I'd like to know

    You don't feel you could love me
    but I feel you could

    It was in the early morning hours
    when I fell into a phone call
    believing I had supernatural powers
    I slammed into a brick wall
    I said hey is this my problem
    is this my fault?
    if that's the way it's gonna be
    I'm gonna call the whole thing to a halt

    You don't feel you could love me
    but I feel you could

    I was walking down the street
    when I thought I heard this voice say
    say, ain't we walking down the same street
    together on the very same day?
    and I said hey senorita
    that's astute, I said
    why don't we get together and call ourselves an institute now?

    You don't feel you could love me
    but I feel you could

    I was having this discussion
    in a taxi headed downtown...



    Tuesday, September 25, 2012

    I love you all, my dear girls and boys

    I love you all, my dear girls and boys; my most sincere greetings and deepest thanks to all who came to say hello to me. I did not have much of chance to talk to you, but I hope that gradually we all will get acquainted with each other; these gatherings are probably long overdue and are a very healthy sign. My special greetings to Christina, I enjoyed chatting with you. See you all again soon.

    Monday, September 24, 2012

    Just the same old Michael

    Whatever I write in this poor little blog of mine and what is mostly purely a "literature" or some amateurish attempts at its imitation due to my fascination with words and sounds might get misinterpreted in most wild and weird ways. Therefore I will try to constrain myself with this unruly verbal production. I want to assure everyone that I remain just the same old Michael; very sane, non-crazy, non-bimbo, rational, kind, loving, appropriate and loyal. I will always love my friends and people who are close to me and will always be in. Little insignificant things in life do not upset me. Please, trust my sanity.

    I am a Bullet now

    I am not a man
    I am not "Michael"
    I am not "Dr. Novakhov"
    I am a Bullet now
    Till the day I die.

    Sunday, September 23, 2012

    O Sole Mio

    O Sole Mio - Google Search         o sole mio - YuoTube Search

    Uploaded by on Sep 6, 2007
    Luciano Pavarotti - 'O sole mio

    O sole mio

    Che bella cosa na jurnata 'e sole
    n'aria serena doppo na tempesta
    pe ll'aria fresca pare già na festa
    che bella cosa na jurnata 'e sole.
    Ma n'atu sole cchiu' bello, oi ne'
    'o sole mio sta nfronte a te
    'o sole, o sole mio
    sta nfronte a te
    sta nfronte a te.
    Quanno fa notte e'sole se ne scenne
    me vene quase 'na malincunia
    sotto a fenesta toia restarria
    quanno fa notte e 'o sole se ne scenne.
    Ma n'atu sole cchiu' bello, oi ne'
    'o sole mio sta nfronte a te
    'o sole, o sole mio
    sta nfronte a te
    sta nfronte a te.


    English Translation
    What a wonderful thing a sunny day
    The serene air after a thunderstorm
    The fresh air, and a party is already going on…
    What a wonderful thing a sunny day.But another sun,
    that’s brighter still
    It’s my own sun
    that’s in your face!
    The sun, my own sun
    It’s in your face!
    It’s in your face!When night comes and the sun has gone down,
    I start feeling blue;
    I’d stay below your window
    When night comes and the sun has gone down.But another sun,
    that’s brighter still
    It’s my own sun
    that’s in your face!
    The sun, my own sun
    It’s in your face!
    It’s in your face!


    Neapolitan Italian Text

    Che bella cosa na jurnata 'e sole,
    n'aria serena doppo na tempesta!
    Pe' ll'aria fresca pare già na festa...
    Che bella cosa na jurnata 'e sole.

    Ma n'atu sole
    cchiù bello, oje ne'.
    O sole mio
    sta 'nfronte a te!
    O sole
    O sole mio
    sta 'nfronte a te!
    sta 'nfronte a te!
    Quanno fa notte e 'o sole se ne scenne,
    me vene quase 'na malincunia;
    sotto 'a fenesta toia restarria
    quanno fa notte e 'o sole se ne scenne.

    Ma n'atu sole
    cchiù bello, oje ne'.
    O sole mio
    sta 'nfronte a te!
    O sole
    O sole mio
    sta 'nfronte a te!
    sta 'nfronte a te!


    1. O Sole Mio Lyrics and English Text Translation - Eduardo di Capua's ...

    2. classicalmusic.about.com › ... › Aria Lyrics & TranslationsCached - Similar
    3. Eduardo di Capua's O Sole Mio lyrics and English translation.
    4. Luciano Pavarotti - O Sole Mio Lyrics

      www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/l/luciano_pavarotti/o_sole_mio.htmlCached - Similar
      Rating: 5 - 1 vote
      O Sole Mio is performed by Luciano Pavarotti - Get lyrics, music video & widget and read meanings of this song here.
    5. 'O sole mio - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

      Jump to Lyrics‎: Neapolitan lyrics. Che bella cosa è na jurnata 'e sole,: n'aria serena doppo na tempesta! Pe' ll'aria fresca para già na festa... Che bella ...

    Saturday, September 22, 2012

    Black Crab I am

    Black Crab I am,
    A slow charging lobster:
    Back and forth I go,
    Back and forth;
    Searching for my circle of understanding.
    Charge along, baby; charge, charge.
    The only way is forward now:
    Charge, charge...
    Gaywardly forward,
    Uncrabbily straight;
    As an arrow,
    As my beloved bullet.

    Royalty Free Angry Black and Whtie Crab Logo

    Friday, September 21, 2012

    To The Dark Lady-Demiurge

    To The Dark Lady-Demiurge:

    . . .



    All you ever wanted to know about…. SONNET 130 

                                      SONNET 130
    My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;

    My mistress's eyes are not at all like the sun;

    Coral is far more red than her lips' red;

    Coral is much more red than her lips;

    If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

    If snow is white, then her breasts are certainly not white as snow;

    If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

    If hairs can be compared to wires, hers are black and not golden.

    I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,

    I have seen roses colored a combination of red and white (thus pink),

    But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

    But I do not see such colors in her cheeks;

    And in some perfumes is there more delight

    And some perfumes give more delight

    Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

    Than the breath of my mistress.

    I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

    I love to hear her speak, but I know

    That music hath a far more pleasing sound;

    That music has a more pleasing sound than her voice;

    I grant I never saw a goddess go;

    I also never saw a goddess walk;

    My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:

    But I know that my mistress walks only on the ground.

    And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
    And yet I think my love as rare
    As any she belied with false compare.

    As any woman who has had poetic untruths told about her beauty with false comparisons.

    Sonnet 130 is Shakespeare's rather lackluster tribute to his Lady, commonly referred to as the dark lady because she seems to be non-white (black wires for hair, etc). The dark lady, who ultimately betrays the poet by loving other men, appears in sonnets 127 to 154. Sonnet 130 is clearly a parody of the conventional and traditional love sonnet, made popular by Petrarch and, in particular, made popular in England by Sidney's use of the Petrarchan form in his epic poem "Astrophel and Stella". If you compare any of the stanzas of that poem with Shakespeare's sonnet 130, you will see exactly what elements of the conventional love sonnet Shakespeare is light-heartedly mocking. In sonnet 130, there is no use of grandiose metaphor or allusion -- he does not compare his love to Venus; there is no evocation to Morpheus, etc. The ordinary beauty and humanity of his lover are what is important to Shakespeare in this sonnet, and he deliberately uses typical love poetry metaphors against themselves. In Sidney's work, for example, the features of the poet's lover are as beautiful and, at times, more beautiful than the finest pearls, diamonds, rubies, and silk. In sonnet 130, the references to such objects of perfection are indeed present, but they are there to illustrate that his lover is not as beautiful -- a total rejection of Petrarch form and content. Shakespeare utilizes a new structure, through which the straightforward theme of his lover’s simplicity can be developed in the three quatrains and neatly concluded in the final couplet. Thus, Shakespeare is using all the techniques available, including the sonnet structure itself, to enhance his parody of the traditional Petrarchan sonnet typified by Sidney’s work. But Shakespeare ends the sonnet by proclaiming his love for his mistress despite her lack of adornment, so he does finally embrace the fundamental theme in Petrarch's sonnets -- total and consuming love. One final note: Shakespeare's reference to hair as 'wires' confuses modern readers because we assume it to mean our current definition of wire -- a thread of metal -- which is hardly a fitting word in the context of the poem. However, to a Renaissance reader, wire would refer to the finely-spun gold threads woven into fancy hair nets. Many poets of the time used this term as a benchmark of beauty, including Spenser: "Her long loose yellow locks like golden wire" (Epithal).
    2) Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130

    *Petrarchan - Italian poet, scholar, and humanist who is famous for Canzoniere, a collection of love lyrics

    Traditional readings of Shakespeare's "Sonnet130" argue that Shakespeare cunningly employs Petrarchan* imagery while deliberately undermining it. As Stephen Booth says, this "winsom trifle, is easily distorted into a solemn critical statement about sonnetconventions." He argues, Shakespeare "does gently mock the thoughtless mechanical application of the standard Petrarchan metaphors," although he appears to have "no target." Although Booth asserts that Shakespeare is not responding directly to another sonneteer, he must have them (and their ladies' virtues) squarely in mind. Unlike Sidney, whose "Stella's eyes" were Nature's "chief work," that "sun-like should more dazzle than delight," Shakespeare claims that his "Mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun." Whereas Stella's "porches rich (which name of cheeks endure)" are gleaming "marble mixed red and white," Shakespeare's dark mistress has "no such roses" in her cheeks. The negative correspondences between Shakespeare's lady and Sidney's go on and on.

    In fourteen lines of "Sonnet130," Shakespeare seems to undo, discount, or invalidate nearly every Petrarchan conceit about feminine beauty employed by his fellow English sonneteers. In the concluding couplet, he relents and admits that "by heav'n, I think my love as rare / as any she belied by false compare" (lines 13-14). That final line, read through the traditional critical lens, works only if we impose very non-Shakespearean syntax on it. If we allow Shakespeare's typical syntax to breath free, however, a much more interesting (and exceptionally more problematic) reading emerges. I propose that we consider such an alternate reading, if for no other reason than to further problematize Shakespeare's dark lady, who, by all accounts, already poses a problem for Shakespeare's poetic voice and for critics. Considerations of alternate readings will not only enrich our understanding of early modern syntax in general (and Shakespeare's in particular) but also demonstrate Shakespeare's facility with poetic subtlety even on the most basic level.

    In his critical edition of the Sonnets, Booth glosses "she" as "woman," asserting that the pronoun stands as a substantive, a fully realized nominal that can be modified by the "any," which precedes it. I would like to contest that reading. To analyze the final lines of "Sonnet130" completely, I must break the concluding couplet into its phrasal constituents. Shakespeare clearly intends the couplet to "undo" the potential damage done to his reader's faith that he indeed loves his dusky mistress by the ostensibly denigrating remarks in the previous twelve lines. Therefore, he begins the couplet with a coordinating conjunction, followed immediately by a contrastive adverb that suggests the concluding couplet only appears to contradict the rest of the poem. The first two words of the couplet, "And yet," delay his statement of love, and the oath, "by heav'n." which Booth asserts is a "blunt country cousin to the rhetorical gestures of elegant courtly poets," further delays the declaration to the middle of the line. Not until the second beat of the fourth foot does Shakespeare begin his genuine statement of love: "I think my love as rare / As any she belied with false compare." The grammatical complexity becomes daunting after the first comparative adverb "as."
    If we were to rephrase the line according to this parsing, we would have "I think that my love is as rare as any woman (substituting the noun Booth claims "she" replaces) belied by false compare." Although the resulting line is clunky and uneven, it foregrounds the relationship that Helen Vendler asserts in her postulated source sonnet. If Shakespeare is indeed responding to a sonnet,Vendler asserts that the final couplet of this sonnet would read "more or less" in this way: "In all, by heaven I think my love as rare/As any she conceivèd for compare."Vendler's poem presents the same grammatical structure, with the same reading of "any" as an adjective that modifies the pronoun "she" that follows it. These two critical readings from Booth and Vendler, assert that the whole phrase "any she" is further modified by "belied," a past participle. Vendler offers "conceived" in her model poem. Although this reading foregrounds Shakespeare's response to Petrarchan imagery, implying that other sonnetteers actively misrepresent or "belie" their mistresses' beauty, it represents a strangely non-Shakespearian construction.
    Moreover, Shakespeare uses "belie" as a past participle only two other times in his poetic corpus (if we discount its appearance in "Sonnet130")--once as an apparent attibutive adjective and once as part of a passive construction. In Sonnet 140, Shakespeare uses "belied" in a parallel structure that requires repetition of the main verb of the sentence to be complete. In the closing lines of the poem, the poetic voice demands that "mad slanderers by mad ears" should not be believed. After an abrupt grammatical break, the poem concludes with an admonition for honorable behavior, addressed to his beloved: "That I may not be so, nor thou belied, / Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide". The couplet, dependent upon the previous two lines, demonstrates clearly the vulnerability that the poetic voice feels to "mad slanderers" who might actively misrepresent him or his beloved. Thus, although apparently an attributive adjective on first reading, "belied" acts as the past participial complement of "may not be so"; thus "I" and "thou" are linked together in a compound subject. More frequently in Shakespearean diction, "belie" appears in complete passive constructions.
    If read with these Shakespearian tendencies, the final couplet of "Sonnet130" changes dramatically. It changes from a (pro)nominal phrase modified by a past participle to a relative clause with the relative pronoun deleted: "And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare / As any [whom] she belied with false compare." Although a zero-relative was "rarely found in the sixteenth century," it was possible and is found regularly inSidney. This alternative reading changes the focus of the poem dramatically: she (the mistress) becomes an agent of misrepresentation and potentially a poet herself--or at least a speaker who "belies" others "with false compare." The question becomes whom has she belied? Is this the reason that the poet says, "I love to hear her speak"? Does she belie others as she speaks? Although this alternative reading presents an interesting possibility, which could feed debate about the identity of Shakespeare's dark lady, it also opens up another potential reading. Whereas Booth asserts that Shakespeare has "no target" and Vendler must imagine a poem to which Shakespeare replies, the peculiar use of "she" in the final couplet of "Sonnet130" might hint at a direct link between Shakespeare's poem and that of another sonnetteer.
    The characteristically non-Shakespearian use of "she" in the final line of "Sonnet130" creates an ambiguity that will most likely not be resolved by simple grammatical analysis and comparison with other occurrences in Shakespeare's corpus, but neither should it be overlooked just because it might disrupt conventional readings of the poem. Although this proposed alternative reading does not invalidate the premise that Shakespeare pokes fun at the--by his time--sorely overused Petrarchan conceits, it does open up two potential avenues for further scholarship: that the dark lady may actually be a speaking subject rather than simply an object of visual desire and that Shakespeare may have Astrophil and Stella specifically in mind as he composes some of his sonnets.

    3) Commentary on Sonnet 130

    This sonnet, one of Shakespeare's most famous, plays an elaborate joke on the conventions of love poetry common to Shakespeare's day, and it is so well-conceived that the joke remains funny today. Most sonnet sequences in Elizabethan England were modeled after that of Petrarch.Petrarch's famous sonnet sequence was written as a series of love poems to an idealized and idolized mistress named Laura. In the sonnets, Petrarch praises her beauty, her worth, and her perfection using an extraordinary variety of metaphors based largely on natural beauties. In Shakespeare's day, these metaphors had already become cliche (as, indeed, they still are today), but they were still the accepted technique for writing love poetry. The result was that poems tended to make highly idealizing comparisons between nature and the poets' lover that were, if taken literally, completely ridiculous. My mistress' eyes are like the sun; her lips are red as coral; her cheeks are like roses, her breasts are white as snow, her voice is like music, she is a goddess. /PARAGRAPH In many ways, Shakespeare's sonnets subvert and reverse the conventions of the Petrarchan love sequence: the idealizing love poems, for instance, are written not to a perfect woman but to an admittedly imperfect man, and the love poems to the dark lady are anything but idealizing ("My love is as a fever, longing still / For that which longer nurseth the disease" is hardly a Petrarchan conceit.) Sonnet 130 mocks the typical Petrarchan metaphors by presenting a speaker who seems to take them at face value, and somewhat bemusedly, decides to tell the truth. Your mistress' eyes are like the sun? That's strange--my mistress' eyes aren't at all like the sun. Your mistress' breath smells like perfume? My mistress' breath reeks compared to perfume. In the couplet, then, the speaker shows his full intent, which is to insist that love does not need these conceits in order to be real; and women do not need to look like flowers or the sun in order to be beautiful.

    The rhetorical structure of Sonnet 130 is important to its effect. In the first quatrain, the speaker spends one line on each comparison between his mistress and something else (the sun, coral, snow, and wires--the one positive thing in the whole poem some part of his mistress is like. In the second and third quatrains, he expands the descriptions to occupy two lines each, so that roses/cheeks, perfume/breath, music/voice, and goddess/mistress each receive a pair of unrhymed lines. This creates the effect of an expanding and developing argument, and neatly prevents the poem--which does, after all, rely on a single kind of joke for its first twelve lines--from becoming stagnant.
    4)Shakespeare's 154 sonnets, taken together, are frequently described as a sequence, and this is generally divided into two sections. Sonnets 1-126 focus on a young man and the speaker's friendship with him, and Sonnets 127-52 focus on the speaker's relationship with a woman. Many of Shakespeare's themes are conventional sonnet topics, such as love and beauty, and the related motifs of time and mutability. But Shakespeare treats these themes in his own, distinctive fashion—most notably by addressing the poems of love and praise not to a fair maiden but instead to a young man; and by including a second subject of passion: a woman of questionable attractiveness and virtue. In Sonnet 130, the speaker describes the woman that he loves in extremely unflattering terms but claims that he truly loves her, which lends credibility to his claim because even though he does not find her attractive, he still declares his love for her. The sentences of Sonnet 130 are written in iambic pentameter, with ten syllables and a pattern of unstressed and stressed syllables. Writing the poem in iambic pentameter gives rhythm to the poem and helps it flow smoothly.
    <!--[if !supportLists]-->1)<!--[endif]-->Mabillard, Amanda. "An Analysis of Shakespeare's Sonnet 130". Shakespeare Online. 2000. http://www.shakespeare-online.com (day/month/year).
    <!--[if !supportLists]-->2)<!--[endif]-->Shakespeare's SONNET 130 , By: Doe, Jane, Scholarly Journal, number, Date, Vol. #, Issue #
    <!--[if !supportLists]-->3)<!--[endif]-->Sparknotes.com – commentary on sonnet 130
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    shakespeare dark lady sonnets - GS

    shakespeare dark lady sonnets analysis - GS


    Shakespeare's sonnets - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

    en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shakespeare's_sonnetsCached - Similar
    Jump to The Dark Lady‎: "The Dark Lady" redirects here. For other uses, see Dark Lady. The Dark Lady sequence (sonnets 127–152), distinguishes itself ...

    Analysis of Shakespeare's Sonnet 130 - My mistress's eyes

    www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/130detail.htmlCached - Similar
    Shakespeare's sonnet 130 - My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun - with ... The dark lady, who ultimately betrays the poet, appears in sonnets 127 to 154.

    Tuesday, September 18, 2012

    Big coqui I am too, that's true

    Big coqui I am too, that's true. I liked how you put it.
    Co-qui, co-qui!


    Coqui (Photo courtesy of Photos of Puerto Rico.com)

    The Puerto Rican coquí is a very small - tiny - tree frog about one inch long. Some coquíes look green, some brown and some yellowish - actually they are translucent. Coquíes have a high pitched sound and can be heard from far away.

    The coquíes begin to sing when the sun goes down at dusk. Their melody serenades islanders to sleep. Coquíes sing all night long until dawn when they stop singing and head for the nest. Puerto Ricans love their coquíes and have written poems, stories, and Aguinaldos about them.

    During the time of the Taíno Indians trillions of coquíes serenated our ancestral home. Many Taíno Indian myths surround the coquí. Coquíes are found in much of the Taíno art like pictographs and pottery.

    In Puerto Rico all coquíes are called coquí even though not all sing ''co-quí''. Only two of the species the ''Coquí Común'' and the ''Coquí de la Montaña or Coquí Puertorriqueño'' actually sing ''co-quí''.

    Puerto Rican coquíes have relatives all over Latin America. The coquí genre is found in all the Caribbean Islands, and in Central and South America. But again, the only ones that make the sound ''co-quí'' are Puerto Rican.

    The scientific name for the coquí is Eleu-thero-dactylus, characterized because they have no webbed toes. There are 16 different species in Puerto Rico and all of them have padded discs at the end of their toes which helps them climb. Coquíes are classified as amphibians - a grouping for cold blooded vertebrates that includes frogs, toads, or newts -that are able to live in both water and land.

    Contrary to frogs, the coquíes do not go through a tadpole stage and break out of their egg - a small replica of their parents. Some coquíes are terrestrial some are arboreal. The Coquí Dorado is the only specie in the world that bears live young.

    The male coquí sings - not the female. That means that in Puerto Rico we hear only half the coquíes singing. The male coquí watches over the eggs. The eggs hatch in 28 days and the young coquíes remain in the nest for an additional 5 days. Again the male coquí watches over them until they leave the nest.

    When there is more light either from the moon or from street lights, there are less coquíes to be heard. Therefore there are more coquíes in isolated areas like the mountains. The specie ''Puerto Rican coquí'' sings co-quí, co-quí, co-quí at dusk and changes to co-quí-quí-quí, co-quí-quí-quí, co-quí-quí-quí, at dawn. It is arboreal - climbing to the top of trees in search of insects. There it remains until dawn when it changes its song and jumps down nesting until the evening.

    Coquíes are in danger of extinction and actually two of them are already extinct - the Coquí Dorado and the Coquí Palmeado. Others are endangered species like the Coquí Caoba and the Coquí de Eneida. Why are coquíes in extinction? Because of deforestation. People have destroyed their habitat or homes (nests) destroying their eggs and destroying their source of food and nourishment.


    Monday, September 17, 2012

    Rachmaninov: The Isle of the Dead, Symphonic poem Op. 29 - Andrew Davis

    Rachmaninov: The Isle of the Dead - YouTube Search

    Rachmaninov: The Isle of the Dead, Symphonic poem Op. 29 - Andrew Davis

    Uploaded by on Nov 23, 2011

    Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra
    Sir Andrew Davis, conductor

    Не пой, красавица, при мне - Playlist

    Vishnevskaya sings Rachmaninov op.4 №4

    Uploaded by on Feb 14, 2009

    "O cease thy singing, maiden fair "
    "Не пой, красавица при мне..."
    "Ne poy krasavitsa pri mne..."

    Не пой, красавица, при мне
    Ты песен Грузии печальной:
    Напоминают мне оне
    Другую жизнь и берег дальный.

    Увы! напоминают мне
    Твои жестокие напевы
    И степь, и ночь — и при луне
    Черты далекой, бедной девы.

    Я призрак милый, роковой,
    Тебя увидев, забываю;
    Но ты поешь — и предо мной
    Его я вновь воображаю.

    Не пой, красавица, при мне
    Ты песен Грузии печальной:
    Напоминают мне оне
    Другую жизнь и берег дальный.

    Oh, cease thy singing maiden fair Those songs of Georgian land, I pray thee; What e'er recall our life to me on foreign strand I fain would banish. And, ah! thy haunting lay brings back remembrance of days, long, long departed, I see the moon, the desert night and her sad face and eyes imploring. Ah! fond one, gently, ever near A youth forever doth behold thee. Yet when your face is always there It will not waver, will not vanish. Oh, cease thy singing maiden fair Those songs of Georgian land, I pray thee; What e'er recall our life to me on foreign strand I fain would banish.


    Надежда Фесенко-Не пой,красавица-С.Рахманинов
    4:49Надежда Фесенко-Не пой,красавица-С.Рахманиновby

    Sunday, September 16, 2012

    Thank you, The People of Puerto Rico!

    Thank you, The People of Puerto Rico! It is impossible not to love you.
    Ich bin ein BORICUA!


    Gray Fox I am

    Gray gay (in both senses) Fox I am, that's right; even if I don't know it or don't want to know it.

    Crazy, Like a Fox 

    Donnelly, ID
    Lake Cascade State Park
    West Mountain Campground
    Site 156
    For the record, Site 156 is not the worst site in the West Mountain Campground; but it is easily the worst spot that is large enough to accommodate an RV, which explains why it was the only RV site not reserved a full 9 months in advance, and why we were able to obtain a reservation for that site on such short notice, on a busy Independence Day 4-day weekend.
    We’ve been working very hard in recent weeks to make repairs to the RV, including replacing an entire wall, the water heater, some of the plumbing, and a couple of gas lines. We also recovered all of the upholstery, added XM Satellite Radio, an air purifier, and made numerous smaller repairs to the lighting and associated wiring. So we were more than ready to take a break and go camping, and Site 156 didn’t really look that bad in the pictures that were available on the Idaho Parks Reservation System.
    Trees, a table, a fire pit and a BBQ were all visible in the available photos. The reservation system says there’s potable water available at the site, and it’s pretty much our only choice anyway. So we booked it, packed the trailer and went camping.
    The weather was pretty much what you’d want on a July 4th camping trip. Clear and hot. Record hot, in fact, for our mountain location. The trees provided no shade for our trailer, and the trailer currently has no effective means to cool itself (something else that we’ll be fixing!). So the trailer baked us, and all of our belongings, to the tune of 100+ degrees all day. And the first week of July contains some of the longest days of the year.
    But we had fun anyway. My 4-year old daughter enjoyed her first camping trip, something she’d been longing to do, and I enjoyed my first day of Downhill Mountain Biking for the season at Tamarack Resort. We got out and enjoyed the fruit of all our labor, and we learned what work still needed to be done to the RV when we got home. All in all a success, but that’s not what inspired me to post this entry.
    As the sun began to fade behind the mountain, and the mercury finally began to fall in the thermometer, a Grey Fox came strolling into our campsite. He didn’t stay long, at first, but it turns out that this site is where he spends a great deal of time in the evening.
    After searching the trash cans across the street, the fox returned and bedded down in the shade in our site for several hours, and stayed there at least until we went to bed for the night. He was gone when we arose the next morning, but showed up again the second night, right on schedule, for a repeat performance. We think he probably does it every night, and that he’ll probably do it for you if you can handle camping in a site with no significant shade.
    So, if you find yourself with no other choices at West Mountain Campground, try site 156. It’s not perfect, but it comes with a friend that will leave the other sites envious. Just be sure to pack your own shade!

    Permalink: Crazy, Like a Fox
    Posted by Michael Worth at 12:33 PM on July 13, 2006 | TrackBack (0)

    BEHAVIOR AND LAW - General, Forensic and Prison Psychiatry News: Grant Proposal for establishment of the Puerto...

    BEHAVIOR AND LAW - General, Forensic and Prison Psychiatry News: Grant Proposal for establishment of the Puerto...: Grant Proposal for establishment of the Puerto Rico Institute for Behavioral Criminology and Behavioral Forensic Sciences To: AP (P...

    Those who left us live in us

    Those who left us live in us and we live for them, just like our children, grandchildren and friends will live for us when we are gone.

    I am back to work

    I am back to work.

    Saturday, September 15, 2012

    "Tree fox"?

    "Tree fox"? I would be thrilled if I were one. Maybe I should start working on it. Ah?

    Gray fox - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

    en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gray_foxCached - Similar
    The gray fox's ability to climb trees is shared only with the Asian Raccoon dog among canids. Its strong, hooked claws allow it to scramble up trees to escape ...


    To The Magnificent Group

    You all are a truly magnificent group of people. The health of the group reinforces individual health and vice versa. They form the beneficious circle of health, as opposed to the vicious circle of illness.
    I am very sorry about some of my childish and immature behavior last night.