Poem For Josephine
Sizzling hot chocolate
and coffee with a dash of liquer.
A snowfall
winter in paris
chocolate chaux en hiver
ballet slippers hanging from
the ballet bars
a grammophone left playing
while no ones in the room.
See that lady in luxurious white fur
her coffee colored skin enchanting as she makes
her way down the boulevard
a leopard in diamonds
her voice rouses a nation
the swivel of her hips enchant the world.
See that star bursting open into the firmaments?
That
is
Josephine
Some say that Josephine Baker's life was "more French than the French." She lived in France for the rest of her life, often touring Europe, and during the height of the Jazz Age was know as the "Jazz Cleopatra." Her flamboyant style and patriotic nature made her an unforgettable phenomenon for the next 50 years.
The following is a poem by Josephine Baker written in 1930:
At the age of eight I was already working to calm the hunger of my family.
I have suffered: hunger, cold.
I have a family
They said I was homely
That I danced like an ape
Then I was less homely - Cosmetics
I was hooted
Then I was applauded - the crowd
I continued to dance - I loved jazz
I continued to sing - I loved sadness; my soul is sick
I had an opportunity - Destiny
I had a mascot - a panther - Ancestral superstition
I made a tour of the world - In third class and in Pullman
I am moral
They said I was the reverse
I do not smoke - I have white teeth
I do not drink - I am an American
I have a religion
I adore children
I love flowers
I aid the poor - I have suffered much
I love the animals - they are the sincerest
I sing and dance still - Perseverance
I earn much money - I do not love money
I save my money - for the time when I am no longer an attraction.
What shall we sing, my friends?
In what shall we rejoice?
There alone our song lives,
Where our ancestors were born.
On Earth, where they lived...
I suffer here on Earth...
He who gives life conceals
Men in a casket and in an ark....
But shall I see them? Shall my eyes see
The faces of my father and my mother?
Can they offer me their song,
Their words, which I search for?
Here is no one,
They have left us as orphans, here on Earth.
Canto Triste
(de Nezahualcoyotl)
Oye un canto en mi corazón:
me pongo a llorar,
me lleno de dolor:
nos vamos entre flores,
hemos de dejar esta Tierra:
¡estamos prestados unos a otros:
iremos a la casa del Sol!
¡Póngame yo un collar
de variadas flores:
en mis manos estén,
florezcan en mí guirnaldas.
Hemos de dejar esta Tierra:
estamos prestados unos a otros:
iremos a la casa del Sol!
Cuicatli Quicaqui
(de Nezahualcoyotl)
Cuicatli quicaqui
in noyol nichoca:
ye nicnotlamati
tiya xochitica
tic cauhtehuazque
tlalticpac ye nican
titotlanehuia
o tiyazque ichan.
Ma nicnocozcati
nepapan xochitl
ma nomac on mani
ma nocpacxochihui.
Tic cauhtehuazque
tlalticpac ye nican
zan titotlanehuia
o tiyazque ichan.
To Marisa...Mister Alberto, Lady Josefina, Tânia and Marcos...thanks.
The Taj, mayhap, to you may seem, a mark of love supreme
You may hold this beauteous vale in great esteem;
Yet, my love, meet me hence at some other place!
How odd for the poor folk to frequent royal resorts;
‘Tis strange that the amorous souls should tread the regal paths
Trodden once by mighty kings and their proud consorts.
Behind the facade of love my dear, you had better seen,
The marks of imperial might that herein lie screen’d
You who take delight in tombs of kings deceased,
Should have seen the hutments dark where you and I did wean.
Countless men in this world must have loved and gone,
Who would say their loves weren’t truthful or strong?
But in the name of their loves, no memorial is raised
For they too, like you and me, belonged to the common throng.
These structures and sepulchres, these ramparts and forts,
These relics of the mighty dead are, in fact, no more
Than the cancerous tumours on the face of earth,
Fattened on our ancestor’s very blood and bones.
They too must have loved, my love, whose hands had made,
This marble monument, nicely chiselled and shaped
But their dear ones lived and died, unhonoured, unknown,
None burnt even a taper on their lowly graves.
This bank of Jamuna, this edifice, these groves and lawns,
These carved walls and doors, arches and alcoves,
An emperor on the strength of wealth, Has played with us a cruel joke.
Meet me hence, my love, at some other place.
Welcome the goddess of the moon and the night,
Bless us with wisdom, bless us with might.
Give us tonight, the power to heal,
The power to release the magick so real.
Surround us with light, the light of divine,
Embrace us with love of perfection so fine.
Give us the music, so we can dance,
And chant a song to enter a trance.
Welcome the god of the sun and the day,
To you we do turn in times of dismay.
Give us today, the power to bind,
All the unloving, all the unkind.
Surround us with light, the light of divine,
Embrace us with love of perfection so fine.
Give us the music, so we can dance,
And chant a song to enter a trance.
You arise beauteous in the horizon of the heavens
Oh living Aten who creates life.
When you shine forth in the Eastern horizon you fill every land with your beauty.
You are so beautiful: you are great; gleaming and high over every land.
Your rays embrace the lands and all you have created;
You are Re and reach out to all your creations, and hold them for your beloved Son.
You are afar, but your rays touch the earth;
Men see you, but know not your ways.
When you set in the Western horizon of the sky
The earth is in darkness like the dead.
People sleep in their rooms with covered heads;
They do not see each other.
If all their possessions were stolen
They would know it not.
Every lion leaves its lair;
All snakes bite;
Darkness covers all.
The world is silent
For the creator rests in his horizon.
When you rise from the horizon the earth grows bright;
You shine as the Aten in the sky and drive away the darkness;
When your rays gleam forth, the whole of Egypt is festive.
People wake and stand on their feet
For you have lifted them up.
They wash their limbs and take up their clothes and dress;
They raise their arms to you in adoration.
Then the whole of the land does its work;
All cattle enjoy their pastures,
Trees and plants grow green,
Birds fly up from their nests
And raise their wings in praise of your spirit.
Goats frisk on their feet,
And all fluttering and flying things come alive
Because you shine on them.
Boats sail up and downstream,
All ways are opened because you have appeared.
The fish in the river leap up to you
Your rays are in the deep of the sea.
You are the creator of the issue in woman,
The seed in men;
You give life to the son in his mother's womb
Soothing him so he does not cry
Oh nurse within the womb.
You give the breath of life to all your creations
From the day they are born.
You open their mouths and give them sustenance.
To the chick that cries "tweet" while still in the egg
You give breath in the shell to let him live,
And make the time for him to break the shell
And come out of the egg at the moment for him to chirp
And patter on his two feet.
How manifold are your works: they are secret from our sight
Oh unique god, no other is like you.
You made the earth after your own heart
When you were alone. All men, herds
And flocks, all on the earth that goes on its feet;
and all that is in the sky and flies with its wings.
The land of Egypt, the foreign lands of Syria and Nubia too -
You put every man in his place and fulfil his needs;
Each one with his sustenance and the days of his life counted,
Their language is different,
And they look different;
Their complexions are different,
For you have distinguished the nations.
You make the seasons to bring into being all your creatures;
Winter to cool them,
And the heat of summer to come from you.
You have made the sky afar off
So when you rise you can see all you have made.
You alone rise in the form of the living Aten
Shining afar, yet close at hand.
You make millions of forms out of you alone,
Towns and villages, fields, roads and river.
All eyes see you before them
For you are the Aten of the day, over all the earth.
You are in my heart and none other knows thee
But your son "Akhenaten";
You have given him understanding of your designs and your power.
The people of the world are in your hand
Just as you have created them.
All men since you have made the earth you have raised for your son
Who came forth from your body,
The King of Egypt who lives in truth,
Lord of Diadems, Akhenaten, whose life is long:
And for his beloved wife
Mistress of Two Lands, NefernefruatenNefertiti
May she live and flourish in eternity.
Love is the One who masters all things;
I am mastered totally by Love.
By my passion of love for Love
I have ground sweet as sugar.
O furious Wind, I am only a straw before you;
How could I know where I will be blown next?
Whoever claims to have made a pact with Destiny
Reveals himself a liar and a fool;
What is any of us but a straw in a storm?
How could anyone make a pact with a hurricane?
God is working everywhere his massive Resurrection;
How can we pretend to act on our own?
In the hand of Love I am like a cat in a sack;
Sometimes Love hoists me into the air,
Sometimes Love flings me into the air,
Love swings me round and round His head;
I have no peace, in this world or any other.
The lovers of God have fallen in a furious river;
They have surrendered themselves to Love's commands.
Like mill wheels they turn, day and night, day and night,
Constantly turning and turning, and crying out.
Oosti koo gas, gharib blbool,
Doo mi lats’ li, yis im laloo.
Doo vart ptre, yis gozalin.
Doo mi lats’ li, yis im laloo.
Whence are you coming, wandering nightingale?
You are crying, I will also cry.
You seek the rose, and I the beautiful one.
You are crying, I will also cry.
Ari blbool, khosi baren.
Okhnevi koo ekats’ saren.
Ki vartn erits’, indz im yaren.
Doo mi lats’ li, yis im laloo.
Come nightingale, tell me the word.
The mountain from which you came is blessed.
The rose burns you, my love burns me.
You are crying, I will also cry.
Man im gali didari hit,
Voonts’ gharib blbool khari hit.
Doo varti, yis yari hit.
Doo mi lats’ li, yis im laloo.
I am wandering with the picture,
Like the wandering nightingale with the insect.
You are with the rose, and I with my love.
You are crying, I will also cry.
Salbooi nman kananch im,
Ek, khosi, dzaynet chananch im,
Doo vart kanche, yis yar kanchim.
Doo mi lats’ li, yis im laloo.
I am green like the cypress,
Come, speak, I know your voice.
You call to the rose, I call to the beloved.
You are crying, I will also cry.
Gharib blbool, dzaynet maloom,
Yis oo doo ervink me haloom,
Sayat Noven asats’ zaloom,
Doo mi lats’ li, yis im laloo.
Wandering nightingale, your voice is miserable,
You and I are burning in the same way,
Sayat Nova said cruelly,
You are crying, I will also cry.
...to you my beautiful friend!...I love Arménia!...
