Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 03, 2010

Rainy Season in the Amazon

I was recently reading a very old history of the conquest of Mexico and Peru and came across the following lines attributed to an old Spanish Conquistador who had the misfortune of getting lost and wandering for over a year through the Amazon rain forest. Anyone who has traveled through the jungle during the rains will certainly be able to identify with his sufferings! It made me quite nostalgic about the rainy season! It is, of course, written in Spanish and I have left it with his inventive spelling but I have tried to give it a very rough translation into English as well.

 Las Amazonas

" Sin que el sol en este tiempo
Su cara ver nos permita,
Ni las nubes taberneras
Cesse de echamos encima
Dilubios inagotables,
Que hasta el alma nos bautizan.
Cayeron los mas enfermos,
Porque las ropas podridas
Con el eterno agua va,
Nos dexo en las carnes vivas."

The Amazon

The sun, during all this time 
Would not permit its face to be seen,
Nor would the  dark, billowing clouds
Cease to pour down upon us
Their  never ending floods
Until even our very souls were baptized.
The sick and weak began to die, 
Our clothes began to rot
 And because of the eternal rains
we were left with only our  raw, but living, flesh.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

The River

Salto Para on the Rio Caura, Bolivar State, Venezuela
(Taken from the plane)

My husband wrote this,
To live by a river is to make it a part of your life. It flows like blood through your veins and is never forgotten. You feel it's cold and it's power. You miss it when it is gone. No other river will ever replace it. It is your blood.


Unless you have lived a life dependent upon a river, I suppose it is not easily comprehended. If you have lived along the banks of a river, and relied upon it for survival, it becomes part of who you are.

The river is the source of the water that you need to sustain life. Not only for you, but for the animals as well. The river represents LIFE.

The river is the place one goes for cleansing your person and your possessions. The river represents CLEANSING.

The river is the provider of much of your food. The fish of the river are the most accessible source of protein. The river represents SUSTENANCE.

The river also is your highway. It provides you with passage to other places and people. The river represents FREEDOM.

Life, cleansing, sustenance, freedom. The river.

I am no poet, but I do enjoy attempting to express myself through the writing of something vaguely resembling poetry. I wrote this last year.



Yearnings


Sitting in a dugout,
Gliding down a river,
Looking upwards to the blue sky,
White, wispy clouds breezing by,
Tall jungle trees,
Pointing high!

Close my eyes,
Feel the tropical sun upon my skin,
Humidity in the air, cool water against my hand,
Dangling fingers swim in the green, brown river,
A soft mist sprays upon my brow,
Cooling water!

The jungle permeates,
Earthy, damp and musty,
A thousand years old!
The smell of a storm coming this way,
Sweet, sour, a bit of decay,
Jungle smells!

Listen! Listen!
What do you hear?
The cry of a majestic macaw,
The wind moves the leaves of the palms,
The water gurgles as it ripples,
Quiet sounds!

The sights of home,
The feel of home,
Familiar smells,
The sounds that call me home,
I hear the beckoning and I long to return,
Winding river, take me home!

Friday, April 27, 2007

The Importance of Life


I have recently been reading Peter's blog. He works in the NICU and lives in Scotland. He writes amazing poetry, something I enjoy reading but have never been able to write. He has allowed me to share this poem with you all, but make sure and check out his blog for even more!


~MY POEM I DEDICATE - TO MY LOVE - NICU ~

ONLY WHEN I DREAM - NICU

Only when I dream
Can I see your pain
Of the darkness from within
The hurt of your tears
Drip slowly from your face
As eye contact prevails.

Only when I dream
Do I feel the cold needle
Gently protrude your skin
And the blood flows
From within.

Only when I dream
Are there shadows of
black and white
in this your tiny room
alone, oh so alone.

Only when I dream
Do I see your smile
The touch of your hand
As I watch over you
And pray yet again
For a new life
Created so beautifully
From such a dream.

By Peter © (2007)

*** Dedicated to “Life so Beautiful – NICU” ***


http://portraitofpeter.blogspot.com/