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Irene Rega-B1 Burela

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Irene Rega -B1 Burela

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Alberto B1-Burela

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NEGRA SOMBRA
by Rosalía de Castro

If they sing, you are who sing,
If they cry, you are who cry,

And you are the murmur of the river

And you are the night and the dawn

you are in everything and you are everything,

for me in myself you dwell,

you will never leave me,

shadow that always amazes me"

Pamela B1-Burela

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THE PEOPLE UPSTAIRS by Ogden Nash

The people upstairs all practise ballet

Their living room is a bowling alley

Their bedroom is full of conducted tours.

Their radio is louder than yours,

They celebrate week-ends all the week.

When they take a shower, your ceilings leak.

They try to get their parties to mix

By supplying their guests with Pogo sticks,

And when their fun at last abates,

They go to the bathroom on roller skates.

I might love the people upstairs more

If only they lived on another floor.

Chus B1-Burela

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THE PIGEON WAS WRONG by Alberti

The pigeon was wrong

She was wrong

To go North, she went South

She believed that the wheat was water

She was wrong.

She believed that the sea was the sky

that the night the morning

She was wrong.

That the stars, the dew

that the heat, the snowfall

She was wrong.

That your skirt was your blouse

that your heart was her home

She was wrong.

She fell asleep on the shore

You on top of a branch.

Chus B1-Burela

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Emily Dickinson

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Dicono che gli angeli sono le creature più belle del mondo.
Allora devo essere fortunato perché ho trovato uno

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Eva Osorio Fernández

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María Elena Fernández Galdo

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Sonetto di Isabella Morra, poetessa del Cinquecento dove il suo dolore si esprime con toni disperati, un grido che si estende a tutta la natura che circonda il suo castello/prigione, una natura vista negli aspetti più cupi, rovinosi , selvatici e infernali. 

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Sonetto di Isabella Morra, poetessa del Cinquecento dove il suo dolore si esprime con toni disperati, un grido che si estende a tutta la natura che circonda il suo castello/prigione, una natura vista negli aspetti più cupi, rovinosi , selvatici e infernali. 

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Italiano C1.2

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TI PROTEGGO (Antonella Ariosto)
A te che sei
parte di me
respiro del mio respiro
nel cammino della vita
io ti proteggo

Ángeles Grueiro (Italiano A1-A2)

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Ho kara mia - Vilhemo Oldo (William Auld) "La infana raso" (A raza infantil) (1965) trad. Davido

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Ho kara mia - Vilhemo Oldo (William Auld) "La infana raso" (A raza infantil) (1965) trad. Davido

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Ho kara mia,

jen povra testamento

jen mia kredo

espero kaj tormento:

mi kredas pri la

bonvolo de l' homaro,

ke iam pasos

kruelo kaj amaro,

ke iam venos

la regno de l' racio;

sed multaj larmoj

necesos antaŭ tio.

--
Ai, queridiña!
velaquí o meu pobre testamento,
velaquí a miña crenza,
espranza e tormento:
creo na bondade da xente,
que algún día rematarán
a crueldade e a amargura,
que chegará por fin o reino da razón;
porén non antes de se derramar
moitas, moitas bágoas.

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The Tyger - William Blake "Songs of Experience" (1794)

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The Tyger - William Blake "Songs of Experience" (1794)

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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 seize 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 water'd 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?

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Mise Éire - Pádraig Mac Piarais (ca 1912) trad. Dáithí

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Mise Éire - Pádraig Mac Piarais (ca 1912) trad. Dáithí

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Mise Éire:
Sine mé ná an Chailleach Bhéarra

Mór mo ghlóir:
Mé a rug Cú Chulainn cróga.

Mór mo náir:
Mo chlann féin a dhíol a máthair.

Mór mo phian:
Bithnaimhde do mo shíorchiapadh.

Mór mo bhrón:
D’éag an dream inar chuireas dóchas.

Mise Éire:
Uaigní mé ná an Chailleach Bhéarra.

--
(Son) Eu Irlanda:
Máis vella que a meiga de Beara.

Grande (é) a miña gloria:
Eu que din a luz ao bravo Cú Culainn.

Grande (é) a miña vergoña:
A miña propia familia vendeu a súa nai.

Grande (é) a miña dor:
O acoso perpetuo do inimigo incansábel.

Grande (é) a miña tristura:
Morreu a xente na que depositara as miñas espranzas.

(Son) Eu Irlanda:
(Estou) Máis soíña* cá Meiga de Beara.

N.d.T: máis soa, e con máis soidade...

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Mise Éire by Padraic Pearse is a poem written in Irish about nationalism. There is an English translation at the bottom of the page. Sean O'Riada's film, based on the poem, is further down the page.

Pearse was a tireless writer and activist in Ireland's attempt to get independence from the British government. He was one of the key members of the Easter Rising in 1916 and his passion for Irish independence cost him his life when he was executed by the British.

Ireland's 100 favourite poems
Click here for the English translation

Mise Éire

Mise Éire:
Sine mé ná an Chailleach* Bhéarra

Mór mo ghlóir:
Mé a rug Cú Chulainn cróga.

Mór mo náir:
Mo chlann féin a dhíol a máthair.

Mór mo phian:
Bithnaimhde do mo shíorchiapadh.

Mór mo bhrón:
D'éag an dream inar chuireas dóchas.

Mise Éire:
Uaigní mé ná an Chailleach* Bhéarra.

* an Chailleach is an old woman meaning a 'witch'

Ireland's 100 favourite poems
I am Ireland

I am Ireland:
I am older than the old woman* of Beare.

Great my glory:
I who bore Cuchulainn, the brave.

Great my shame:
My own children who sold their mother.

Great my pain:
My irreconcilable enemy who harrasses me continually...

Great my sorrow
That crowd, in whom I placed my trust, died.

I am Ireland:
I am lonelier than the old woman of Beare.

* old woman meaning a 'witch'

Sean O'Riada's film Mise Éire, had its world premiere at Cork Film Festival.
Mise Éire (I am Ireland), is a film based on the poem by Padraic Pearse.

The video below shows the reaction of three men to the film when it was released. This video was made by Gael Linn, an organisation dedicated to Irish language, with the music by Seán Ó Reada.

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Mise Éire is an Irish poem by by Padraic Pearse

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Mise Éire by Padraic Pearse is a poem written in Irish about nationalism. There is an English translation at the bottom of the page. Sean O'Riada's film, based on the poem, is further down the page. Pearse was a tireless writer and activist in Ireland's attempt to get independence from the British government.

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Sedia-m’ eu na ermida de San Simión - Meendinho (ca. 1240-1280)

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Sedia-m’ eu na ermida de San Simión - Meendinho (ca. 1240-1280)

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Sedia-m’ eu na ermida de San Simión
e cercaron-mi-as ondas que grandes son.
Eu atendend’ o meu amigu’! E verrá?

Estando na ermida, ant’ o altar,
cercaron-mi-as ondas grandes do mar.
Eu atenden[d’o meu amigu’! E verrá?]

E cercaron-mi-as ondas que grandes son:
non ei [i] barqueiro nen remador.
Eu [atendend’o meu amigu’! E verrá?]

E cercaron-mi-as ondas do alto mar:
non ei [i] barqueiro nen sei remar.
Eu aten[dend’o meu amigu’! E verrá?]

Non ei i barqueiro nen remador:
morrerei [eu], fremosa, no mar maior.
Eu aten[dend’o meu amigu’! E verrá?]

Non ei [i] barqueiro nen sei remar:
morrerei eu, fremosa, no alto mar.
Eu [atendend’o meu amigu’! E verrá?]

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Sedia-m' eu na ermida de San Simión
e cercaron-mi-as ondas que grandes son.
Eu atendend' o meu amigu'! E verrá?

Estando na ermida, ant' o altar,
cercaron-mi-as ondas grandes do mar.
Eu atenden[d'o meu amigu'! E verrá?]

E cercaron-mi-as ondas que grandes son:
non ei [i] barqueiro nen remador.
Eu [atendend'o meu amigu'! E verrá?]

E cercaron-mi-as ondas do alto mar:
non ei [i] barqueiro nen sei remar.
Eu aten[dend'o meu amigu'! E verrá?]

Non ei i barqueiro nen remador:
morrerei [eu], fremosa, no mar maior.
Eu aten[dend'o meu amigu'! E verrá?]

Non ei [i] barqueiro nen sei remar:
morrerei eu, fremosa, no alto mar.
Eu [atendend'o meu amigu'! E verrá?]

Brea, Mercedes (dir.) (1996): Lírica Profana Galego-Portuguesa. (Santiago: Centro de Investigacións Lingüísticas e Literarias Ramón Piñeiro - Xunta de Galicia)
Pedro Barroso
Versión de Amalia Rodrigues

Versión de Doa en Youtube

Versión de Clara Pino e Pablo Vidal en Youtube

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Sedia-m' eu na ermida de San Simión. Meendinho

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Sedia-m' eu na ermida de San Simión e cercaron-mi-as ondas que grandes son. Eu atendend' o meu amigu'! E verrá? Estando na ermida, ant' o altar, cercaron-mi-as ondas grandes do mar. Eu atenden[d'o meu amigu'! E verrá?] E cercaron-mi-as ondas que grandes son: non ei [i] barqueiro nen remador.

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夏草や        Natsu gusa ya
兵どもが    tsuwamomo domo ga
夢の跡        yume no ato

Die Sommergräser.
Alles, was bleibt
Von den Träumen der Krieger.

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Was ist Leben? - Erich Fried - Alemán B1.1

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Was ist Leben? - Erich Fried - Alemán B1.1

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Was ist Leben?

Leben
das ist die Wärme
des Wassers in meinem Bad.

Leben
das ist mein Mund
an deinem offenen Schoß.

Leben
das ist der Zorn
auf das Unrecht in unseren Ländern.

Die Wärme des Wassers
genügt nicht
ich muss auch darin Plätschern.

Mein Mund an deinem Schoß
genügt nicht
auch muss ihn auch küssen.

Der Zorn auf das Unrecht
genügt nicht
Wir müssen es auch ergründen

und etwas
gegen es tun.

Das ist Leben!

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El poeta y traductor argentino Juan Pablo Abraham inicia en nuestra revista un dossier de poesía en lengua alemana. Su

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Filastrocca impertinente, di Gianni Rodari (María Pena. Italiano A1-A2)

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Filastrocca impertinente, di Gianni Rodari (María Pena. Italiano A1-A2)

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Filastrocca impertinente,
chi sta zitto non dice niente;
chi sta fermo non cammina;
chi va lontano non s’avvicina;
chi si siede non sta ritto;
chi va storto non va dritto;
e chi non parte, in verità,
in nessun posto arriverà.

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Giornata della poesía
Promemoria di Gianni Rodari, recitato da María Rolle (A1-A2)

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Deep into that darkness peering,
Long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals
Ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken,
And the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken
Was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo
Murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Merely this, and nothing more.

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Viens, mon beau chat, sur mon coeur amoureux;
Retiens les griffes de ta patte,
Et laisse-moi plonger dans tes beaux yeux,
Mêlés de métal et d'agate.

Lorsque mes doigts caressent à loisir
Ta tête et ton dos élastique,
Et que ma main s'enivre du plaisir
De palper ton corps électrique,

Je vois ma femme en esprit. Son regard,
Comme le tien, aimable bête
Profond et froid, coupe et fend comme un dard,

Et, des pieds jusques à la tête,
Un air subtil, un dangereux parfum
Nagent autour de son corps brun.

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Joseph von Eichendorff

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YOU,I and the Sea  - Doda Varela - Inglés B2.1                                             

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YOU,I and the Sea  - Doda Varela - Inglés B2.1                                             

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Between your life and mine a boat cross the sea                       full emotions that come and go                                                       the seagulls in the sky are your sweet awakening                       and the dolphins swimming your most real image                         Storms of feelings that we knew how to overcome                       against the wind and the tide we made it a reality                           tidal waves of life we had to face                                                 Between your life and mine a boat cross the sea

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El bosque de mis sueños. Javier Barros Pereira- Alemán C1.2

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El bosque de mis sueños. Javier Barros Pereira- Alemán C1.2

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Poems created and read by Cira Insua -B1

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Poems created and read by Cira Insua -B1

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If the desire to love you were flowers, It would be continuous spring

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Quoi de mieux qu'une sensation agréable?

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ACCIONABLE LIBRO by soraya pombo on Genially

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Discover more about ACCIONABLE LIBRO ✌️ - Interactive cards

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Poema de Luz Pozo traducido para su homenaje en 2018

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Poema de Luz Pozo traducido para su homenaje en 2018

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MaM.

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Tanto gentile e tanto onesta pare la donna mia quand’ella altrui saluta, ch’ogne lingua deven tremando muta, e li occhi no l’ardiscon di guardare. Ella si va, sententosi laudare, benignamente d’umiltà vestuta

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Voilà un poème de Théophile Gautier, le précurseur du Parnasse, qui vous imprégnera d'une atmosphère de paix et de calme. Il faut se détendre et ne rien faire de temps en temps!
Sara P.S.

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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet

Nothing is so beautiful as SpringWhen weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrushThrough the echoing timber does so rinse and wringThe ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brushThe descending blue; that blue is all in a rushWith richness;the racing lambs too have fair their fling.What is all this juice and all this joy?A strain of the earth's sweet being in the beginningIn Eden garden -Have, get, before it cloy,Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,Most, O maid's child, thy choice and worthy the winning.

SPRING

By GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS

Read by Elena Montes

Escuchar

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POEM - SPRING by mariaelenamonteslopez on Genially

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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet Nothing is so beautiful as SpringWhen weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrushThrough the echoing timber does so rinse and wringThe ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they

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Ecco il mio contributo con una bellissima poesia italiana.Spero vi piaccia. Espero que vos guste. Inma

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Ho sceso, dandoti il braccio, almeno un milione di scale - di Eugenio Montale

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Ho sceso, dandoti il braccio, almeno un milione di scale - di Eugenio Montale

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Ho sceso, dandoti il braccio, almeno un milione di scalee ora che non ci sei è il vuoto ad ogni gradino.Anche così è stato breve il nostro lungo viaggio.Il mio dura tuttora, né più mi occorronole coincidenze,le prenotazioni,le trappole,gli scorni di chi credeche la realtàsia quella che si vede.Ho sceso milioni di scale dandoti il braccionon già perché con quattr'occhi forse si vede di più.Con te le ho scese perché sapevo che di noi duele sole vere pupille, sebbene tanto offuscate,erano le tue Eugenio Montale

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Ho sceso, dandoti il braccio, almeno un milione di scale by Inma Reino on Genially

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Ho sceso, dandoti il braccio, almeno un milione di scalee ora che non ci sei è il vuoto ad ogni gradino.Anche così è stato breve il nostro lungo viaggio.Il mio dura tuttora, né più mi occorronole coincidenze,le prenotazioni,le trappole,gli scorni di chi credeche la realtàsia quella che si vede.Ho sceso milioni di scale dandoti il braccionon già perché con quattr'occhi forse si vede di più.Con te le ho scese perché sapevo che di noi duele sole vere pupille, sebbene tanto offuscate,erano le tue Eugenio Montale

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The miracle of morning- by Amanda Gordon

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The miracle of morning- by Amanda Gordon

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https://screencast-o-matic.com/watch/crnhqqRMlR