Cosman, Carol; Joan Keefe; Kathleen Weaver;
The Penguin Book of Women Poets
Allen Lane London 1978 / Viking Press 1979, 399 pages
ISBN 0140422250
topics: | poetry | women | anthology
*
With you here at Mertu
Looking at my reflection in the still pool -
my arms full of flowers -
I see you creeping on tip-toe
To kiss me from behind,
My hair heavy with perfume.
With your arms around me
I feel as if I belong to the Pharaoh.
*
So small are the flowers of Seamu
So small are the flowers of Seamu
Whoever looks at them feels like a giant.
I am first among your loves,
Like a freshly sprinkled garden of grass and perfumed flowers.
Pleasant is the channel you have dug
In the freshness of the north wind.
Your voice gives life, like nectar.
To see you, is more than food or drink.
*
I find my love fishing p.38
I find my love fishing
his feet in the shallows.
We have breakfast together,
And drink beer.
I offer him the magic of my thighs
He is caught in the spell.
[Love Poems tr. Ezra Pound and Noel Stock, "based on literal translations
of the hieroglyphic texts into Italian by Boris de Rachewiltz"]
If I meet you suddenly, I can't speak - my tongue is broken; a thin flame runs under my skin; seeing nothing, hearing only my own ears drumming, I drip with sweat; trembling shakes my body and I turn paler than dry grass. At such times death isn't far from me.
Woman poet, was captured by the Huns in the Three kingdoms period. from Eighteen Verses Sung to a Tartar Reed Whistle tr. Kenneth Rexroth and Ling Chung I I was born in a time of peace, But later the mandate of Heaven Was withdrawn from the Han Dynasty. Heaven was pitiless. It sent down confusion and separation. Earth was pitiless. It brought me to birth in such a time. ... 2. A Tartar chief forced me to become his wife And took me far away from Heaven's edge, Ten thousand clouds and mountains Bar my road home. And whirlwinds of dust and sand Blow for a thousand miles. Men here are as savage as giant vipers, And strut about in armour, snapping their bows. As I sing the second stanza I almost break the lutestrings, Will broken, heart broken, I sing to myself.
CLASSIC TAMIL LOVE POEMS, tr. A. K. Ramanujan (India, 1st-3rd centuries A.D.) from the Kuruntokai, one of the earliest of eight anthologies of classic Tamil, ascribed to the first three centuries AD. Very little is known of these poets, many of whom were women. My lover capable of terrible lies at night lay close to me in a dream that lied like truth. I woke up, still deceived, and caressed the bed thinking it my lover. It's terrible. I grow lean in loneliness, like a water lily gnawed by a beetle.
The rains, already old, have brought new leaf upon the fields. The grass spears are trimmed and blunted by the deer. The jasmine creeper is showing its buds through their delicate calyx like the laugh of a wildcat. In jasmine country, it is evening for the hovering bees, but look, he hasn't come back. He left me and went in search of wealth.
Come, let's go climb on that jasmine-mantled rock and look if it is only the evening cowbells of the grass-fed contented herds returning with the bulls or the bells of his chariot driving back through the wet sand of the forest ways, his heart full of the triumph of a job well done with young archers driving by his side.
On beaches washed by seas older than the earth, in the groves filled with bird-cries, on the banks shaded by a punnai clustered with flowers, when we made love my eyes saw him and my ears heard him; my arms grow beautiful in the coupling and grow lean as they come away. What shall I make of this?
(Ireland, 9th century) (Beare is an island off S coast of Ireland, e from The Hag of Beare tr. John Montague Ebb tide has come for me: My life drifts downwards Like a retreating sea With no tidal turn. I am the Hag of Beare, Fine petticoats I used to wear, Today, gaunt with poverty, I hunt for rags to cover me. ... These arms, now bony, thin And useless to younger men, Once caressed with skill The limbs of princes!... A chill hand has been laid On many who in darkness visited me.
"the snub-nosed one" [bochA?] an epithet given to four Arabic women poets from the pre-Islamic period. Most famous was Tumadir bint 'Amr, of the Sulaym, b. around 590 AD. Stories of her life include her grief at the death of her two brothers, which inspired her to write elegies - the role of ritual mourner traditionally belonged to women. Many elegies transmitted by oral tradition have been attributed to her. tr. E. Powys Mathers For her brother Weep! Weep! Weep! These tears are for my brother. Henceforth that veil that lies between us, That recent earth, Shall not be lifted again. You have gone down to thebitter water Which all must taste, And you went pure, saying: 'Life is a buzz of hornets about a lance point.' But my heart remembers... I wither like summer grass, I shut myself in the tent of consternation. ... While you have tears, O daughters of Solamides, Weep! Weep! Weep!
SANSKRIT POETRY (India, 700-1050) tr. Daniel H. H. Ingalls from Vidyakara's Treasury of Well-Turned Verse, (AD 1100; drawing upon a large library in the monastery of Jagadda. This anthology contains > 200 poets, incl a good no of women, who lived mostly between 8th and 11th c. [Actually many of these poems, in women's voices, may have been composed by men.] from The Sun I praise the disk of the rising sun red as a parrot's beak, sharp-rayed, friend of the lotus grove, an earring for the goddess of the east. from The Wanton: Say, friend, if all is well still with the bowers that grow upon the Jumna bank, companions to the dalliance of cowherd girls and witnesses of Radha's love. Now that there is no use to cut their fronds to make them into beds for love, I fear their greenness will have faded and they grow old and hard. from Substantiations: One born to hardship in his place and station does well enough to keep himself alive. If its roots are burned by desert sands will the champak think to blossom?
My husband is the same who took my maidenhead and these the moondrenched nights we knew; the very breeze is blowing from the Vindhya hills heavy with scent of newly blossomed jasmine. I too am still the same; and yet with all my heart I yearn for the reedbeds by the stream which knew our happy, graceful unending bouts of love.
Tradition has it that she was chosen as a bride by the Byzantine Emperor but was rejected when she answered him with the edged wit for which she is famous. Founded a convent and was its abbess - wrote epigrams in iambics, and hymns - that on Mary Magdalen is still sung in the Greek church. tr. from byzantine greek Patrick Diehl Selected Epigrams Wealth covers sin - the poor Are naked as a pin. A half-deaf, bald, one-handed, Stuttering, pint-sized, pimply, Pigeon-toed, cross-eyed man, when mocked bhy a lying pimp, A thieving murderous drunk, Of his misfortune said: "I'm not gto blame - you think I asked to be like this? But you!... the credit's yours. Your Maker gave you nothing. Behold! A self-made man." A learned fool? God save us! The pigs are wearing pearls. Better unborn than fool. If born, spare earth your tread. Don't wait. Go straight to hell.
--- 71 compiled in the mid-8th c. is the most revered of Japanese anthologies. Includes abt 4,500 poems, many by members of court aristocracy. Women are well represented and among the most celebrated Manyoshu poets. PRINCESS NUKADA (late 7th century) p.73 Waiting for the Emperor Tenji Sir - awaiting you my longing more dwelt upon as my chamber door's blinds are agitated - the autumn wind is blowing. [where I have "blinds" the transln in book has the word "sudare", with the note "a slat blind made of rush or bamboo"] tr. Cid Corman Susumu Kamaike
29 of her tanka, all addressed to the poet Otomo Yakamochi, are included in the Manyoshu. To love someone Who does not return that love Is like offering prayers Back behind a starving god Within a Buddhist temple. tr. Harold P. Wright
(from the Man'yoshu, but not from this anthology; from Donald Keene anthology, p.40) I thought there could be No more love left anywhere. Whence then is come this love, That has caught me now And holds me in its grasp?
Unknown love Is a bitter thing As the maiden-lily Which grows in the thickets Of the summer moor. My heart, thinking "How beautiful he is" Is like a swift river Which though one dams it and dams it Will still break through. tr. Arthur Waley
Most famous of the Six poetic Geniuses of the Kokinshu, the first of the imperial Japanese anthologies. -- A thing which fades tr. Arthur Waley A thing which fades With no outward sign - Is the flower Of the heart of man In this world! -- When my love becomes, tr. Geoffrey Bownas Anthony Thwaite When my love becomes All-powerful, I turn inside out My garments of the night Night dark as leopard-flower. -- This night of no moon tr. Donald Keene This night of no moon There is no way to meet him. I rise in longing - My breast pounds, a leaping flame, My heart is consumed in fire. -- So lonely am I tr. Donald Keene So lonely am I My body is a floating reed Severed at the roots. Were there water to entice me, I would follow it, I think.
lady in waiting to Empress Akiko, was a member of the imperial court at the height of its brilliance in the Heian era (784-1186). With Lady Murasaki, author of "The Tale of Genji", she was part of a circle of gifted women.. was married to a provincial governor. The scandal of her love affairs and her fame as a poet made her, like Ono no Kamaci, a figure of Japanese legend. Recklessly I cast myself away; Perhaps A heart in love Becomes a deep ravine? Never could I think Our love a worldly commonplace On this morning when For the first time my heart Is filled with many thoughts. As the rains of spring Fall, day aftger day, so I Fare on through time While by the fence the grasses grow And green spreads everywhere. From that first night Although I have not wept Cold, rainy tears upon my bed, Yet I hae recklessly Slept in strange places and strange ways. tr. Edwin A. Cranston
3d daughter of Emperor Go-Shiragawa. Was made a vestal and remained unmarried her entire life. Autumn There has been no change but I am no longer young. Autumn wind blows and I am as disturbed as before. Winter The wind is cold Leaves one by one are cleared from the night sky. The moon bares the garden. Spring The cherry blossoms have lost their fragrance. You should have come before the wind. tr. Hiroaki Sato
Classic Tamil Love Poems, tr: AK Ramanujan p.32
kachipeTTu naNNAkaiyAr (100-300AD):
My lover capable of terrible lies
okkUr mAchAtti :
What she said
What her girl-friend said to her
Ancient Egypt, hieroglyphic texts:
With you here at Mertu (tr: Boris de Rachewiltz (Italian); Ezra Pound
and Noel Stock)
So small are the flowers of Seamu
I find my love fishing
Sappho (Greece, 6th century B.C.)
You know the place: then
He is more than a hero
Corinna (Greece, 5th century B.C.): Will you sleep forever?
Praxilla (Greece, c. 450 B.C.): Adonis, Dying
Ancient Israel, anon, 3d c. B.C. :
Turning to him, who meets me with desire
Under the quince tree
Sulpicia (Rome, c. 20 B.C.) p.47 : I'm grateful, really grateful
T'sai Yen (China, c. A.D. 200) :
from Eighteen Verses Sung to a Tartar Reed Whistle
Venmanipputi: What She Said to Her Girl-Friend
"Old woman of Beare" (Ireland, 9th century):
Ebb tide has come for me
Al-Khansa (Arabia, 7th century) : For Her Brother tr: E. Powys Mathers
from Vidyakara: I praise the disk of the rising sun
Silabhattarika:
from The Wanton:
My husband is the same who took my maidenhead
Kassia (Byzantine Greece, 9th century)
Wealth covers sin - the poor / Are naked as a pin.
Princess Nukada (late 7th century Japan)
Waiting for the Emperor Tenji tr: Cid Corman Susumu Kamaike
Lady Kasa (8th c. Japan): tr: Harold P. Wright
To love someone
Princess Hirokawa (8th c. Japan)
I thought there could be / No more love left anywhere.
Lady Otomo of Sakanoe (c. 728-46): Unknown love / Is a bitter thing
Ono No Komachi (Japan, 834-80) : A thing which fades tr: Arthur Waley
Izumi Shikibu (Japan, late 10th century) : Recklessly / I cast myself away;
Nun Abutsu (Japan, d. c. 1283) : from The Diary of the Waning Moon
Your subdued voice is low, cuckoo
Unknown Kisaeng (Korea, c. 1275-1308) : The Turkish Bakery
Yu Hsuan-Chi (China, mid 9th century) : On a Visit to Ch'ung Chen Taoist Temple
Chu Shu-Chen (China, early 12th century) : The snow dances and the frost flies.
Sixty poems by fifty-five different twentieth-century women poets have been
selected in this remarkable anthology celebrating the power and strength of
women. Drawing from poets both familiar (Gwendolyn Brooks, Adrienne Rich,
Dorothy Parker, Sylvia Plath) and less well known, this collection traces
women's diverse experiences through the turbulent years of this century and
represents voices from many different cultures, including Native American,
African-American, Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Indian, and Nigerian. Quirky,
moving, surprising, amusing--these poems let women speak for themselves about
love and war, work and play, marriage and family, power and ambition. With
striking black-and-white photographs, a preface, and a handy index of titles
and first lines, this elegant compilation makes an ideal gift for poetry
lovers and women's history buffs.
- http://us.penguingroup.com/nf/Book/BookDisplay/0,,0_9780525463283.html