27 de noviembre de 2007


In this section we would like to show all sorts of poems and/or extracts mainly from literary works in English. We would like you to post your favourite pieces as well and make comments about them all.
thank you for your contributions.

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England...
The extract is from Shakespeare´s "Richard II"(Act I, Scene II), we hope that you have enjoyed reading it. Please tell us if it was so.

102 comentarios:

Carmen dijo...

A most amazingly beautiful description of England! Who would not be proud of such a country? Can anyone find something similar in Spanish literature?

marta dijo...

It is a very beautiful extract. The actor L.Howard says it beautifully in the film The Scarlet Pimpernel. Can anyone get hold of that extract? It would be fantastic to have it.

Dakota dijo...

Hi there!

OK, let's look for it!

In the meanwhile...

Poetry! Let me bring in here an amazing discovery connected to Shakespeare's poems. I have to say I'm a fan of Shakespeare's, though I'm mostly a XXth century reader...

So here's an amazing treat I found while surfing the Net: Listen to Shakespeare's Sonnets. My proposal now is Sonnet 145! - first you'll hear an improvised flute version inspired on it, and then the same man playing the flute will read that sonnet.


This is the TP webpage on Shakespeare, and it's got an activity which Carmen shared with us last year.


Enjoy! :)

marta dijo...

Fantastic and with the sound too!

maria dijo...

I think it is a very beautiful poem which was wrote by someone in love with the English land. In Spain there have been poets who have sung to Spanish land . Antonio Machado to Soria, for example, in Campos de Castilla.
I also like Shakespeare, Dakota, but I prefer Oscar Wilde. I read his short tales a few years ago(the other day I bought 'Complete short fiction' in English) and I love all. There is one that is particularly sad, perhaps my favorite: The nightingale and the rose.

maria dijo...

Sorry!!! "which was written"!!! Oh my god!!

Carmen dijo...

María,you are right about Campos de Castilla;can you think of a poem which describes Spain? This one makes you feel proud of the contry, makes England Great. This extract has definetely been written to develop patriotism, don´t you think? No mistakes, only the ocasional article, WELL DONE!

Roberto 4ºB dijo...

Would it be possible that it is written by Churchill? Or it’s a nonsense.

paloma 5ºA dijo...

I had read the Shakespeare's poem about England and I think that it is a beautiful poem, but when I read the Maria's comment, it aroused me curiosity about the Oscar Wilde's tales and I came on The Internet and I read "The nightingale and the rose", and I think that it is one of the most beautiful love's poems that I had read and I agree with Maria about Oscar Wilde's tales.

María dijo...
Este comentario ha sido eliminado por el autor.
María dijo...

I don´t know where I can write this... So I´ll do it here:
Bosses turn to monks for breath of life
The work and the city mean stress many times. Some German companies suggested the bosses were exiled in a monastery to relax, to turn to monks for a few days and achieve goals such as appreciating the silence or knowing themselves.
They are in small rooms, with basic things and without electronic devices, walk through the surroundings of the town, along the river where they talk about their problems, do meditation, lectures... So they can forget their concerns and realize that their lives are more valuable than they think.

María dijo...

I don´t know if there is any poem which highlights the spanish beauty. All poets in Spain, in different times, didn´t agree with the spanish policy and way of life... They wanted changes. Inside their poems there were sad feelings, complaints... But there are many poems which were written by poets in exile and denoted yearning and hope for getting a better country.

I´m glad of your enjoyment with Wilde´s tales, Paloma!

ana 5� dijo...

In this world of technology, sharing opinions about poems is amazing.
I think in Spain a caracteristic of people is the individualism, that is reflexed in our epic poems where the heroe is no the king, but the warrior, the landlord of the castle, as we can see in the Cantares de Gesta. Between then
"El Cantar de Mio Cid"
Speaking only of english poems, without nationalism proud, only as an universal sense of poetry, I like Whalt Whitman and I recommend his "Leaves of Grass"

Anónimo dijo...

Thanks for the new and few comments. We make a note of W.Witman´s poem and see if we can put it in the blog. Marta

María dijo...

Did Shakespeare write the poem?

Nila (4th B Course) dijo...

I absolute agree with Maria regarding to the feelings of the Spanish poets. They not only describe the landscape, but how they feel about it. They are more focus on expressing their emotion than writing about the landscape itself. Antonio Machado feels proud of Soria in spite of being hard, sad or grey, but always honest:

Oh, tierra triste y noble,
la de los altos llanos y yermos y roquedas,
de campos sin arados, regatos ni arboledas;(…)

de A orillas del Duero, del ciclo de Soledades

I have found one poem by Rosalia de Castro (1837-1885) which describes the Galician landscape. Let me know your opinion:
Flow on, serene, crystal waters,
pass by in majesty and calm
like the shadows of glorious deeds!
Roll on without rest just as the many
who once watched you –as I do now-
have rolled on toward eternity!
Lovely roses, give me your perfumes!
Clear fountains, quench the burning
thirst that consumes me!
Gossamer clouds, with your feather light lace,
veil the brilliant sunrays!
And you, mild and gentle breeze,
Let the mysterious concerts begin
amidst the oak trees in shadowed pastures
where the Sar whispers softly!

Translation: Anna Marie Aldaz

Nila dijo...

Of course, the original poem is much more beautiful. Here you have (only for your curious):

¡Corré, serenas ondas cristaiñas,
pasade en calma e maxestosas, como
as sombras pasan dos groriosos feitos!
¡Rodade sin descanso, como rodan
á eternidá xeneraciós sin número
que cal eu vos contempro, contempráronvos!
Daime vosos perfumes, lindas rosas,
da sede que me abrasa, craras fontes,
apagade o queimor… nubes de gasa,
cubrí cal velo de lixeiro encaixe
do ardente sol os briladores raios.
E ti, temprada e cariñosa brisa,
dá encomezo ós concertos misteriosos
antre os carballos da devesa escura
por onde o Sar vai marmurando leve.

Pensamientos Varios. Folles Novas

And anyway, the Shakespeare poem is really beautiful and touchy. It’s a pity I cannot catch it in its own depth not being my mother tongue. Perhaps Carmen can help us here or in the classroom… ;)

marta dijo...

Nila the poem is really beautiful, what a good idea to post it and in English too! Thanks, I´ve really enjoyed it.

Mª José dijo...

I´m just trying

Captain Thunder dijo...

This is my comment: no comment!

merche dijo...


PETER PAN dijo...

I like this section, I don't know much about poetry.

George Manrique dijo...

Our lives are the rivers that flow down into the sea, that is the death.

Béquer dijo...

The dark swallows will come back, to hang their nests from your balcony, but those ones who lernt our names, those, they won't come back!

marta dijo...

Paloma wonderful that you read Shakespeare´s poem. Remember when it is a proper noun we don´t put the article with the noun. I agree with you the story is beautiful it is one of my favourite stories, I also like the Unhappy Prince.
Ana we´ll try and put that one it is very beautiful.

dakota dijo...

If you like Walt Whitman, you might enjoy an amazing video where a construction worker reads some lines of Song of Myself. Scroll down till you get to John Doherty, the guy, and play the video. First he explains what he felt at the beginning when he had to read a poem, and then he reads some lines. Below the video you can scroll down and read the poem as you listen to him.

I have to say, I enjoyed his reading!

Hope you do too!


maria dijo...

I have found this:

Oh España, tierra eres, tierra solo,
pero con tu cálida, insondable entraña
el sol corre por dentro y te ilumina,
y te arrebata.
El sol te empuja brutalmente,
El enterrado sol que llevas, canta,
Ebria vuelas. Vas ya por las estrellas.
Vas pura, iluminada.
Mas llevas en tu seno
a los solemnes muertos que en ti braman,
que, como yo, con furia
te devoran y abrasan.
Oh España, ya por las estrellas,
oh estrella sola y clara:
te quiero con el llanto, España mía:
llanto tú brillador de luces altas.
¿Adónde vas, España grave?
Mis manos te levantan.
¿Adónde vas por el azul espacio?
Altísima navegas solitaria.
Y yo te veo tierra,
tierra sólo y herida por el hacha
de Dios, y vas sangrando, y cae
toda tu sangre por mi cara.
Ay, España querida.
Entiérrame en tu sangre roja. Arranca
a tu hijo del mundo. Llévame
contigo por la noche negra, España.
Vas alta y dolorosa.
Gimes, deliras, bramas.
Vas firme y pura por el firmamiento
a hundirte en Dios como una espada.

What does everybody think? Does anyone know who wrote it? ;)

Soria is a city that inspired the best poets, like Antonio Machado, Becquer... This year is the centenary of the arrival of Machado to Soria, visit it!

Carmen dijo...

It is amazing that you have found this and copied it for all of us! thanks, María. I do not have a clue who it be, but it is not a poem that has ben written recently?
How about this one?
"..No soy un de pueblo de bueyes,
que soy de un pueblo que embargan
yacimientos de leones,
desfiladeros de águilas
y cordilleras de toros
con el orgullo en el asta.
Nunca medraron los bueyes
en los páramos de España.

¿Quién habló de echar un yugo
sobre el cuello de esta raza?
¿Quién ha puesto al huracán
jamás ni yugos ni trabas,
ni quién al rayo detuvo
prisionero en una jaula?

Asturianos de braveza,
vascos de piedra blindada,
valencianos de alegría
y castellanos de alma,
labrados como la tierra
y airosos como las alas;
andaluces de relámpagos,
nacidos entre guitarras
y forjados en los yunques
torrenciales de las lágrimas;
extremeños de centeno,
gallegos de lluvia y calma,
catalanes de firmeza,
aragoneses de casta,
murcianos de dinamita
frutalmente propagada,
leoneses, navarros, dueños
del hambre, el sudor y el hacha,
reyes de la minería,
señores de la labranza,
hombres que entre las raíces,
como raíces gallardas,
vais de la vida a la muerte,
vais de la nada a la nada:
yugos os quieren poner
gentes de la hierba mala,
yugos que habéis de dejar
rotos sobre sus espaldas."
(Miguel Hernández)
I like the way he speaks of all the different regions but toghether, it´s nice to remember that we are a nation!!!
Nila, thanks for your poem and in two languages! The English version is quite good but I would have used older forms "thy, thou, etc." as oposed to he more modern ones. This poem has made me think of the Romantics, so we´ll post one for you after the bank holiday. "Leaves of grass" is, of course another one to be included. It´s fantastic

Paloma 4º G dijo...

Yesterday we were speaking in our class about if matrimony is or is not mercenary nowadays, or even if love is mercenary too.
I’ve found this , related with the subject:
Vuela, pensamiento, y diles
a los ojos que más quiero
que hay dinero.
De el dinero, que pidió,
a la que adorando estas
las nuevas la llevarás,
pero los talegos no.
Di que doy en no dar yo,
pues para hallar el placer,
el ahorrar y el tener
han mudado los carriles.
Vuela, pensamiento, y diles
a los ojos que más quiero
que hay dinero.
A los ojos, que en mirallos
la libertad perderás,
que hay dinero les dirás,
pero no gana de dallos.
Yo solo pienso cerrallos,
que no son la ley de Dios,
que se han de encerrar en dos,
sino en talegos cerriles.
Vuela, pensamiento, y diles
a los ojos que más quiero
que hay dinero.
Si con agrado te oyere
esa esponja (1) de la villa,
que hay dinero has de decilla
y que ¡ay de quien lo diere!
Si ajusticiar te quisiere,
está firme como Martos,
no te dejes hacer cuartos
de sus dedos alguaciles (2).
Vuela, pensamiento, y diles
a los ojos que más quiero
que hay dinero.
(1) esponja. Por lo que chupa y consume (dinero)
(2) “no dejes que te vea el dinero, porque tiene la mano habituada a coger y robar como los alguaciles”
I hope you should enjoy it

marta dijo...

Fantastic that we are getting all these poems! I like the ones about Spain they are not, maybe, so elated as Shakespeare´s but they are really good. The one Carmen sent is a treat in that it mentions all the Spanish together, how very bizarre!!! It is clever and shows the difference of the different areas but there is unity. The other is very nice too. No idea who wrote it, here´s a guess Machado??? I think the language is modern and the mention of Soria definite. (That is the only thing that makes me doubt, however I am probably wrong). You must say who the author is. Let´s have some English ones too, we´ll have to provide them, but at the moment there´s something wrong with the blog and I can´t put anything in. We need Michelle´s help as usual...´When are we going to work this thing properly??????? You´ll all speak English well before we manage to.

Dakota dijo...

I'm not very moved by nationalis, always felt a bit uprooted, really. Better said, I'm more of a "citizen of the world", like Socrates put it before being executed by Athenians, or like Virginia Woolf put it to explain her feminist approach to identity. But I have a 3-line landscape description which I really like. It's the opening poem in Sylvia Plath's "Winter Trees".

Winter Trees
by Sylvia Plath

The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve.
On their blotter of fog the trees
Seem a botanical drawing --
Memories growing, ring on ring,
A series of weddings.

Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery,
Truer than women,
They seed so effortlessly!
Tasting the winds, that are footless,
Waist-deep in history --

Full of wings, otherworldliness.
In this, they are Ledas.
O mother of leaves and sweetness
Who are these pietàs?
The shadows of ringdoves chanting, but chasing nothing.

dakota dijo...

Oops! There's an "m" missing somewhere! :)

maria dijo...

The writer is Carlos Bousoño, an asturian poet and critic. He was born in 1923 and won the Novel Prize in 1977. The poem (Oda a España) was written in the 40's, after Spanish Civil War. It is incredible that Bousoño saw Spain like that after the war..., don't you think? Machado saw Soria very beautiful because he was in love, he loved Leonor. But Soria is beautiful, however. ;)

Anónimo dijo...

It is a beautiful poem, but "The flowers have got roots, the people have got legs"

maria dijo...

Miguel Hernandez´s poem has the whole unity that is absent in Spain...

Dakota dijo...

Because times have changed. The division before came from hatred, a war. Now we are not divided by wars, but we are just diverse because of freedom to think and express ourselves and live according to various lifestyles, and now we hope to live together respecting our diversity, but some people feel threatened by diversity, they see it as aggression, and the point for me is that diversity is very positive for all! People who had in mind the Spanish civil war and the two World Wars spoke about unity meaning "developing the ability to respect diversity", I think, at least that is what I've been told by war veterans and activists who were knowledgable of that period!

Have a nice holiday you all!

dakota dijo...

PS: Miguel Hernández is not talking about unity in that poem, I believe. He's trying to convince people that we should feel happy about that diversity, and learn to live together with it. Miguel Hernández was critical of the civil war and that was the reality he had to bear. He was not in our Spain, I mean, but in a country where there was a civil war. Nowadays we're not killing each other for our ideas. We're discussing them.

Carmen dijo...

Thank God I was not very precise as to time!!! I comprised and thus...(I mean the bousoño´s poem).
Dakota, Miguel Hernández is not talking about unity but he describes the Spanish, amidst their differences very well and very proudly, respecting and valuing all the differences that exist between us. The problem in current Spain is different and now it´s not a question of valuing diversity but of demanding by force certain privliges that they should not have, a question of getting money for litlle or nothing, and a question of dominance. It is serious and unfair and has given us a negative attitude towards the others!Even though we are different we should be proud of a lot of things we´ve done as a nation, and of what we have achieved; there have been mistakes along the way, but that is part of growing up as a nation.
Silvia Platz´s poem is wonderful! years since I read it.
I´ve enjoyed Paloma´s poem very much. Funny, shows sense of humour, clever, and with good rythm

Carmen dijo...

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
It is by William Wordsworth, a Romantic poet.
How do you like it?

maria dijo...

It's very beautiful! You can feel what his heart wanted to say. The words used are very romantic. Poetry like this is for people that understand life, and the little details that make it better. Nature and her wealth turns Wordsworth away from solitude.

marta dijo...

The comments are really wonderful!I´ve enjoyed reading them all we are turning this into something quite well worth visiting. I like Silvia P.´s poem very much, the way it is so womanly so to say. But Ww´s is out of this world, those daffodils moving in the wind and in the memory! Romantics can do it and of course he is the best. Though I must say my heart goes out to Keats I´ll post one of his soon

maria dijo...


Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.

Troubled, wildered, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangle spray,
All heart-broke, I heard her say:

'Oh my children! do they cry,
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see,
Now return and weep for me.'

Pitying, I dropped a tear:
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied, 'What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?

'I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle's hum;
Little wanderer, hie thee home!

William Blake

Carmen, he has done very well the composition, hasn´t he? ;)

Emi dijo...

Maybe it is a little too late, but my mother loves literature and despite not being able to read Shaspeare in English, she is also involved in our blog. I tell her about what we write and she has found this poem about Spain, obviously in Spanish, and I think it really shows what Spain has been for its long history.

Jorge Luis Borges

Más allá de los símbolos,
más allá de la pompa y la ceniza de los aniversarios,
más allá de la aberración del gramático
que ve en la historia del hidalgo
que soñaba ser don Quijote y al fin lo fue,
no una amistad y una alegría
sino un herbario de arcaísmos y un refranero,
estás, España silenciosa, en nosotros.
España del bisonte, que moriría
por el hierro o el rifle,
en las praderas del ocaso, en Montana,
España donde Ulises descendió a la Casa de Hades,
España del íbero, del celta, del cartaginés, y de Roma,
España de los duros visigodos,
de estirpe escandinava,
que deletrearon y olvidaron la escritura de Ulfilas,
pastor de pueblos,
España del Islam, de la cábala
y de la Noche Oscura del Alma,
España de los inquisidores,
que padecieron el destino de ser verdugos
y hubieran podido ser mártires,
España de la larga aventura
que descifró los mares y redujo crueles imperios
y que prosigue aquí, en Buenos Aires,
en este atardecer del mes de julio de 1964,
España de la otra guitarra, la desgarrada,
no la humilde, la nuestra,
España de los patios,
España de la piedra piadosa de catedrales y santuarios,
España de la hombría de bien y de la caudalosa amistad,
España del inútil coraje,
podemos profesar otros amores,
podemos olvidarte
como olvidamos nuestro propio pasado,
porque inseparablemente estás en nosotros,
en los íntimos hábitos de la sangre,
en los Acevedo y los Suárez de mi linaje,
madre de ríos y de espadas y de multiplicadas generaciones,
incesante y fatal.

I do not know what it makes you feel, but when I read it I felt proud of being Spanish.

maria dijo...

Hi Emi! I think that Borges speaks about Spain with melancholy. He enumerates the peoples who have lived in Spain, but I feel that he wasn´t satisfied with the situation of Spain in the moment in which he wrote the poem, by the way, with a good beat but without rhyme: altruist movement

where are the descriptions of a man?

dakota dijo...

Blake! Wow! I had the chance to visit in Madrid an exhibition of his which showed "Nebbuchadnezzar", the etching, and I couldn't leave the place. That piece simply drives me nuts! :) Here's the link, in case you want to see it (it's in London): http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/blake/blake.nebuchadnezzar.jpg

Well, and the most powerful (metaphorically speaking) poem of his, according to my taste! Tyger, tyger!

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?


Hey, I've got a poem around here, in Spanish, inspired on that etching! Let me look for it...

dakota dijo...

Found it!

(Oh, about Spain, well, I agree in that some people are exploiting some power issues & it's good to talk about it, and now we can! But then,personally I think Spain has improved lots and I see Europe increasingly divided in little nations and increasing united as a complex unit, so that's what I mean when I say we shouldn't really worry.)

Here's the poem:


Abrió la boca y salió el frío.
Todo a su alrededor se tragó la muerte, que era blanca,
todo debería haber ardido, porque era de cera blanca,
pero el invierno no dio tregua, la acorraló,
le echó luz al frío para fustigarla,
y ella roía los mendrugos del hielo
igual que el Nebuchadnezzar de Blake,
meciéndose: me daña, me daña, esta fiebre del frío implacable,
con los ojos abiertos de espanto frente a su cueva.

Nila dijo...

Thank you very much to Emi, and of course to her mother for such a beautiful and touching poem by Borges. Borges is one of my favorites!! Unfortunately I still enjoy much more the poems (and literature in general) in Spanish than in English. They slip into my hearth without any warning and stay there for some time (or a long time… depends on) Nevertheless in English… I am only able to guess. But I’m optimist! I’ll achieve!!
Thanks again to Emi’s mother and Merry Christmas to the reading club!!

Paloma 4º G dijo...

Teatro Pavón. 13/12-24/2
Lope deVega
Acto II BELISA Soneto:
Canta con dulce voz en verde rama
Filomena dulcísima aurora,
y en viendo el ruiseñor que le enamora,
con recíproco amor el nido enrama.
Su tierno amante por la selva llama
cándida tortolita arrulladora,
que si el galán el ser amado ignora,
no tiene acción contra su amor la dama,
No de otra suerte el dueño de mis penas
llamé con dulce voz en las floridas
selvas de amor, que oyendo el canto apenas,
se vino a mí, las alas extendidas
porque también hay voces filomenas
que rinden almas y enamoran vidas

Paloma 4º G dijo...

Evidently I need my teacher to be able to apreciate poetry. I had read the poem and I must recognise I didn't enjoy it very much. Now I know the reason: I haddn't undestood anything and furthermore I hadn't spent enough time thinking about what I was reading and trying to catch the real meaning of the words and the beauty inherent in them.

aeoros dijo...

I like it! This is an interesting vision of England from its more powerful majesty, its natural beauty (that works so well as a fortress as a wonderful vision of nature)and the greatness of a Gods gifts.

Anónimo dijo...

SORRY FOR MISTAKES i catch ne of them: "a God gift" or "the Gods gifts" sorry XDDDD

Noemí dijo...

I think this is a beautiful poem written by a person who loves his country. He talks about the place and about the people with pride. I don�t know very much about literature but I think, in Spain, we have some poets who show the beauty of our country in their poems, Antonio Machado, Miguel Hern�dez...

Noemí dijo...

I think this is a beautiful poem written by a person who loves his country. He talks about the place and about the people with pride. I don�t know very much about literature but I think, in Spain, we have some poets who show the beauty of our country in their poems, Antonio Machado, Miguel Hern�dez...

The bandit dijo...

In this extract, we can appreciate the pride with which an English person (probably the King of that land) speaks about the country where he was born. He considers his mother country and her inhabitants to be in a higher position compared to the rest of the nations and citizens. In my opinion, he thinks this superior breed of men deserves that marvellous piece of world. He considers that it´s a question of mutual relationship, the best breed of men needs the best place in the world.

Roberto dijo...

I have enjoyed William Wordsworth's daffodils. It's a beautfiful description about how something you're looking at, makes you feel inside.

ana dijo...

I like the poem written by william Wordsworth very much, I think it is a fantastic description about human feelings and I found myself to be part of it.

MARTA L dijo...

About William Wordsworth's Poem:

Wonderful to discover that twisting some of the words we already know, and the grammar we are attempting to learn, it's possible to understand and feel the beauty conveyed by this romantic author. A big pleasure to share these beatifull lines in class!!!It's well-worth it.

Elia dijo...

The poet,William Wordsworth, saw the beauty of the life through the Nature. His heart knew how to appreciate the beauty that the world gives us.

patricia dijo...

the poem written by Wordsworth is an interesting poem about beauty and how it affects us, giving us just a moment of sensation. That's why men go after beautiful womento have a good time

nila dijo...

After hearing Carmen reading to us William Wordsworth´s poem in our Fridays class, I see it in a very different way. I had enjoyed it before, but now, it is absolutely different!!! The rhytm, the words, every precise word in every precise moment, with the magical sound. Beautiful. Thanks Carmen. Now I understand and feel it much better.

Paloma 4º G dijo...

This morning we have been in class in the computer room. Having studied sciences, you know as I’m quite “old” I belong to the “ancient” system, never had I had the opportunity of studying literature properly and analyse a poem with a teacher. Today’s class has been one of the most interesting in my life (and believe me, I’ve had a few). Thank you Carmen, I think it is of justice to be appreciative of the efforts you make with us.
Anyway, Carmen has told us to post a comment about William Wordsworth’s poem, and here it’s mine:
As a romantic poem, this tries to transmit beauty and succeeds. When we were reading, I was seeing the daffodils. Not only imagining but also seeing them. I a moment I even was able to feel and hear the wind swaying the flower’s heads. I’ve liked specially the verse in which the never-ending line of golden plants is described. It has left in my mind a vivid image, as if I were seeing a picture.
The poet tell us in the last verse when he is in a pensive mood he evokes the daffodils “fluttering and dancing in the breeze” and he feels wonderful. I must be a romantic myself because when I‘m a little gloomy I always “see” the landscape open and undulating of the Castilian land Burgalesa. (Quería decir el paisaje abierto y ondulante de la castellana tierra burgalesa, que me parece que queda muy poético y adecuado al caso, pero... no sé como se dice eso en ingles)

dakota dijo...

Wow! I would have loved to have teachers who read poems and stories in class! I had some great Literature teachers, but they never read aloud in class. I would have loved to attend lectures at US universities in this sense. Over there, students study independently outside the classroom
and then they attend lectures (classes) where teachers read lit in class and then they all hold discussions (to apply knowledge and develop sensitivity).

Roberto 4ºb dijo...

I have to say the last class, in the computer’s room, was a wonderful one. In spite of I was nearly quiet the whole class through, both listening to Carmen and learning poetry with her, was worth.

Carmen dijo...

So glad you enjoyed it!!!!!!! we´ll go back after the hols..... after the cleft sentence!!!

Oscar dijo...

Les felicito por las publicaciones que nos presentan.

Anónimo dijo...

Testing my computer...

Itziar dijo...

An island where anybody would be proud to live in. I like the sentence with the "flowing effect".

Peter Pin-Pan-Pun dijo...

'Silver sea'. It was the Mediterranean sea colour what I missed when I was in England, our blue sky and blue warm sea.

Asun dijo...

This poem show us that english people are very proud of their country. I think they have a good reason for it, because everybody in the world have to learn their language.

Anónimo dijo...

It is a exceptional way of describing a country, very poetic, of course, it had to be England.

Anónimo dijo...

Great poem! There is no doubt Shakespeare is a genious, a word sculptor; but in my opinion this extraxt shows not only England's grandeur but also the british arrogance.

Anónimo dijo...

Famous poems and extracts

The poetry of this extracts says: this earth of majesty. In my opinion, This is an extract, as well, of majesty that goes up when you hear from the casset.

mr. jones dijo...

good poem, my first contact with english poetry. Shakespeare uses a fantastic language, I wish he had written about spain...

Bond007 dijo...

I think it´s an interesting poem from the first English poetry that I have read but really it's worst than spanish poem.

anonimo... dijo...

Richard II speaks from his position of king that`s why he speaks with a lot of safety about England.
It is very complicated because it has got many metaphores.

Anónimo dijo...

beautiful poem and beautiful voice, but if I read it by muyself it doesn�t sound so well

m. luisa 4ºc dijo...

Perhaps could be interesting to have something like this, nowdays, in our country in our political context. Times could change.

Peter pin-Pan-pun dijo...

To enjoy with beautiful things: a landscape, a face, only something pleasant...

paloma dijo...

Para todos esos anónimos.Si publicais como anónimos porque no sabeis hacerlo de otro modo os digo como se hace:Picas en el punto que hay delante de alias, escribes el que quieras y luego le das a publicar comentario.

paloma dijo...

Para todos esos anónimos.Si publicais como anónimos porque no sabeis hacerlo de otro modo os digo como se hace:Picas en el punto que hay delante de alias, escribes el que quieras y luego le das a publicar comentario.

maria dijo...

oh, my god! I´m studying English journalism history and I can´t understand how they were really proud of their country!!

Paloma 4º G dijo...

In fashion nowadays in Spain:
Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
are losing theirs and blaming you,
if you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
but make allowance for their doubting too;
if you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
or being hated, don't give way to hating,
and yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
if you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
if you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
An treat those two impostors just the same;
if you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
and stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
and risk it on one turnof pitch-and-toss,
an lose, and start again at your beginnings
and never breathe a word about your loss;
if you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
to serve your turn long after they are gone,
and so hold on when there is nothing in you
except the Will wich says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
if all men count with you, but none too much;
if you can fill the unforgiving minute
with sixty second's worth of distance run,
yours is the Earth and everithing that's in it,
and - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
Lovely, isn't it?.

marta dijo...

Paloma, that�s a very nice poem you have posted. I also want to thank you for your contribution to the blog, it�s wonderful to have people like you who always say something interesting and who is so enthusiastic. I want to congratulate you too because you always write in English!

Paloma 4º G dijo...

Thank you Marta, it's very kind of you. I tray to do it my best and take advantage of the great oppotunity this blog provide us for improving our English, speaking with other people and sharing our ideas,learning poetry and, even, joining a "club" which increase our sense of being a group and being doing something important all together: Maria, Roberto 4º B,Nila, etc. are my mates even though they are in a different class and I don't know them.
Well it's quite difficult to explain this in English, but, Do you understand what I mean?

carmen dijo...

This extract is quite british, and shows the character of those who have developed in an island. Very interesting.

sara dijo...

Its a great poem in which we can see the identity of UK in this words.

elena4A dijo...

The part of the poem that I like most is the final "This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England..." It's somehow inspiring.

alba dijo...

i think this poem shows how english people really are.they usually are very proud of everything they do,of their customs and their country.the problem is when they don't know more than they have, they only focus on them and don't worry about anything more.in conclusion, i think the poem it's brilliant and well written but not necesary minospreciate another country to show your powerfullness.

maría dijo...

I like the comparison between the land of England with a castle surrounded of silver sea very much. It means that English people are protected of dangers

MaryRose dijo...

I think the poem is very well described quite dramatic but full of realism. It has got a good description on this piece of plot called England.
As an individual human being I consider Shakespeare is one of the best writer in the world.

mavallad dijo...

I am not very used to reading poems, but with the explanation given in class I found it clear and liked it.

Probably if we read the whole piece we would get a bigger climax at the end. The way it is written in the blog it seems just like a description, although a very good one.

maria belen dijo...

This little extract shows us how Shakespeare is fond of his country. It's a very beautiful description of England in so few words... I liked it very much.

Anónimo dijo...

A great poem, just to start with english poetry

Anónimo dijo...

Shakespeare is very proud of his country, and if I were English I'd be too. Spain was an empire long ago but in my opinion it was never a paradise. I'm afraid that nowadays the situation is worse.

Roberto 4ºb dijo...

It’s a pity that in the real life one is not able to behave in the way as Rudyard Kipling writes in the poem.

elena4A dijo...

I have remembered a song from Cecilia that, in my opinion, describes very well Spain:

Mi querida España
esta España mía
esta España nuestra
De tu santa siesta
ahora te despiertan
versos de poetas
¿Dónde están tus ojos?
¿Dónde están tus manos?
¿Dónde tu cabeza?

Mi querida España
esta España mía
esta España nuestra, ay

Mi querida España
esta España mía
esta España nuestra

Mi querida España
esta España mía
esta España nuestra
De las alas quietas
de las vendas negras
sobre carne abierta
¿Quién pasó tu hambre?
¿quién bebió tu sangre?
cuando estabas secas

Mi querida España
esta España mía
esta España nuestra, ay

Mi querida España
esta España mía
esta España nuestra

Mi querida España
esta España mía
esta España nuestra
Pueblo de palabra
y de piel amarga
dulce tu promesa
Quiero ser tu tierra
quiero ser tu hierba
cuando yo me muera

Mi querida España
esta España mía
esta España nuestra, ay

Mi querida España
esta España mía
esta España nuestra

There's a quite frightening :) video with this song in http://es.youtube.com/watch?v=gcjBoOzLYcA

And several hopeful lines which I've just found from Antonio Machado:

«Está el hoy abierto al mañana.
Mañana al infinito.
Hombres de España:
Ni el pasado ha muerto
ni está el mañana ni el ayer escritos»

Carmen dijo...

The attitude that we have towards our country is more dramatic than the one seen in "Richard II". Words like "sangre, pobre, amarga, etc." seem to crop up all the time when poets speak of our country!!!
Thanks for the song and poem; we appear to be creating something and we are more poetry which is fantastic. Thanks to all. You are great!!

paloma dijo...

My husband has just told me something very curious and interesting. Mysterious night! It’s said to be one of the best English sonnets. And it was written by José María Blanco Crespo, alias “Blanco White” an Spanish man. This is very encouraging for us, perhaps we should do the same in time, shouldn’t we? As you can see I’m really optimistic, but…why not? I’ve always thought your worst enemy is yourself, since you always can do what you really want to do .
I wrote this yesterday, but now I’m not so optimistic any more. This morning I have had the worst mark in a composition since I have been learning English. After such a hard work, after so many hours of study, I have done it so badly!
Anyway, here is the poem:
Mysterious Night! When our first parent knew
thee, from report divine, and heard thy name,
did he not tremble for this lovely frame,
this glorious canopy of ligth and blue?
Yet, 'neath the curtain of translucent dew,
bathed in the rays of the great setting flame,
hesperus with the host of heaven, came,
and lo! Creation widened in man's view.
Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed
within thy beams, o Sun! Or who could find
whilst fly and leaf and insect stood revealed
that to such countless orbs thou mad'st us blind!
Why do we then shun death with anxious strife?
If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life?
Noche misteriosa
Noche misteriosa, cuando nuestro primer padre supo de ti
por boca de Dios, y tu nombre oyó,
¿no le hizo temblar este hermoso marco,
esta espléndida bóveda de luz y azul?
Mas tras una cortina de traslúcido rocío,
bañado por las grandes llamas de Poniente,
llegó Héspero* con toda la corte del firmamento,
y así vio el hombre ensancharse la creación.
Oh, sol, ¿quién podía pensar que tal oscuridad
se escondía entre tus rayos, o quién podía saber
que habiendo revelado ya hojas e insectos,
estuvieras tantas constelaciones ocultando?
¿Por qué entonces nos empeñamos en esquivar la muerte?
Si la luz puede engañar así, ¿por qué la vida, no?

(Traducción de José Siles Artés) * = Venus

Fernando dijo...

The last day I was in the computer’s room, we are discussing and commenting several aspects about the poem by W. Shakespeare which was in the blog on that date.

Marta, tried to get information from us, about the history and the environment that the poem referred about. I was embarrassed, because when she spoke about Richard the 2nd, to set his kingdom and his dynasty on time and genealogy, was impossible for me: I had forgotten all things about this issue.

Well, I was looking for some information after that, and I found the next link for those who could be interested in the genealogy of the kings on that time, in touch with the play:


And, if you need to know more about kings’ genealogy in England, you could try in the next link:


I hope that information could be useful for someone. Have a nice Christmas!

Carmen dijo...

Thanks Fernando, a most interesting link!

Carmen dijo...

Paloma, thanks for the poem and tell your husband from all of us; I cannot agree with whoever said that sonnet is the best. It´s very difficult to say which would be, but lots of critics have agreed that "Autumn" (Keats) is one of the best ones. Shakespeare wrote several amazing ones. I´ll post Keats´ and before the year finishes one of Shakespeare´s.

Anónimo dijo...

These poems are beautiful. They are very hard to find. I am glad you posted them.
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