#philip sherrard
Text
George Seferis, from Collected Poems (tr. from the Greek by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)
[Text ID: If I chose to remain alone, what I longed for / was solitude, not this kind of waiting, / my soul shattered on the horizon, / these lines, these colours, this silence.]
#george seferis#collected poems of george seferis#edmund keeley#philip sherrard#words#poetry#typography#greek literature#...
4K notes
·
View notes
Quote
When they saw Patroklos dead
–so brave and strong, so young–
the horses of Achilles began to weep;
their immortal nature was upset deeply
by this work of death they had to look at.
They reared their heads, tossed their long manes,
beat the ground with their hooves, and mourned
Patroklos, seeing him lifeless, destroyed,
now mere flesh only, his spirit gone,
defenseless, without breath,
turned back from life to the great Nothingness.
C.P. Cavafy, “The Horses of Achilles,” from Collected Poems (translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)
#Achilles#Patroclus#Patroklos#Horses of Achilles#C.P. Cavafy#Guess what I'm reading right now?#I found a copy of Cavafy's poems at a used bookstore and had to buy it.#Too bad that there's a nude mosaic of Dionysus on the cover so that I can't get away with reading it in public!#Modern Greek#translation#not my translation#Edmund Keeley#Philip Sherrard#poem#poetry#quote#Iliad#mythology#death
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mr Stratis Thalassinos Describes A Man, pt. 2: "Child" // Yorgos (George) Seferis
When I began to grow up the trees tormented me —
why do you smile? Were you thinking of spring, so harsh
for children?
I was very fond of the green leaves
I think I learned a little at school simply because the
blotting-paper on my desk was also green.
It was the roots of the trees that tormented me when in the
warmth of winter they'd come and wind themselves
around my body.
I had no other dreams as a child.
That's how I got to know my body.
(translated from the Greek by Philip Sherrard)
#poetry#Yorgos Seferis#George Seferis#Greek poetry#the beautiful body#green#trees#dreams#childhood#Philip Sherrard#Edmund Keeley
8 notes
·
View notes
Photo
«1.7. "When they come alive," in C. P. Cavafy, Collected Poems, trans. Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard, ed. George Savides (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1975), 63; copy marked by Cy Twombly. © Alessandro Twombly. Photo British School at Rome.», in Mary Jacobus, Reading Cy Twombly. Poetry in Paint, Princeton University Press, Princeton, NJ, 2016, p. 13
/ l'Altissimo /
#graphic design#art#poetry#drawing#visual writing#handwriting#book#konstantinos kavafis#cy twombly#george savides#edmund keeley#philip sherrard#mary jacobus#princeton university press#1970s#2010s
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
— George Seferis, Tr. Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard, from Collected Poems.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Modern Science and the Dehumanization of Man
The denial that man possesses a capacity for metaphysical or spiritual knowledge typifies much of what passes for philosophy in our times. Yet it is no new phenomenon. To go no further and, as we shall see, one can go considerably further—it is already fully explicit in the thought of empirico-rationalist philosophers like Sir William Hamilton in the first half of the nineteenth century. Hamilton taught that all metaphysics must be rejected as illegitimate because through its very structure the human mind can know only what belongs to the physical and finite world of time and space. Human knowledge can refer only to this world. It must be empirical. It cannot be metaphysical. Even if there are realities of an order that transcends the world of time and space, the human mind cannot know or experience them because it cannot reach beyond the world of timeand space. Man has no faculty or organ of intelligence by means of which he can perceive the realities of such an order. Since Hamilton expounded it, this kind of argument has become commonplace. It forms the basis of what is known as scientific or rationalist humanism. What is not so often emphasized or even pointed out is that the type of outlook—of epistemological outlook—which it expresses not only contradicts the claims of the religious intelligence to the effect that metaphysical realities both exist and can be apprehended. It also directly fosters the dehumanization of man and of the forms of the society which he builds in its image. I will attempt to clarify.
Source: Studies in Comparative Religion, Vol. 10, No. 2. (Spring, 1976). © World Wisdom, Inc. www.studiesincomparativereligion.com
#modern science#empiricism#philosophy#metaphysics#culture#literature#philip sherrard#humanism#rationalism#godlessness#atheism
1 note
·
View note
Text
Memory I
by George Seferis
And I with only a reed in my hands.
The night was deserted, the moon waning,
earth smelled of the last rain.
I whispered: memory hurts wherever you touch it,
there's only a little sky, there's no more sea,
what they kill by day they carry away in carts and dump behind the ridge.
My fingers were running idly over this flute
that an old shepherd gave to me because I said good evening to him.
The others have abolished every kind of greeting:
they wake, shave and start the day's work of slaughter
as one prunes or operates, methodically, without passion:
sorrow's dead like Patroclus, and no one makes a mistake.
I thought of playing a tune and then I felt ashamed in front of the other world
the one that watches me from beyond the night from within my light
woven of living bodies, naked hearts
and love that belongs to the Furies
as it belongs to man and to stone and to water and to grass
and to the animal that looks straight into the eye of its approaching death.
So I continued along the dark path
and turned into my garden and dug and buried the reed
and again I whispered: some morning the resurrection will come,
dawn's light will grow red as trees blossom in spring,
the sea will be born again, and the wave will again fling forth Aphrodite.
We are the seed that dies. And I entered my empty house.
158 notes
·
View notes
Text
George Seferis, tr. by Edmund Keeley & Philip Sherrard from, “Stratis Thalassinos among the Agapanthi.” [ID in alt text]
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
George Seferis tr. by Edmund Keeley & Philip Sherrard, Last Stop
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
George Seferis, tr. by Edmund Keeley & Philip Sherrard from, “In the Kyrenia District.”
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
George Seferis, from Collected Poems; "Memory I" (tr. Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)
[Text ID: I whispered: memory hurts wherever you touch it,]
#george seferis#collected poems of george seferis#memory i#words#poetry#typography#on memory#greek literature
15K notes
·
View notes
Text
Georgee Seferis, tr. Edmund Keeley, Philip Sherrard
614 notes
·
View notes
Text
Five Poems by Mr. S. Thalassinos pt. I: “Hampstead” // Yorgos (George) Seferis
Like a bird with a broken wing
that has traveled through wind for years.
like a bird unable to endure
tempest and wind
the evening falls.
On the green grass
three thousand angels had danced the day long
naked as steel
the pale evening falls;
the three thousand angels
gathered in their wings, became
a dog
forgotten
that barks
alone
and searches for its master
or the Second Coming
or a bone.
Now I long for a little quiet
all I want is a hut on a hill
or near a sea-shore
all I want in front of my window
is a sheet immersed in bluing
spread there like the sea
all I want in my vase
is even a false carnation
red paper wound on wire
so that the wind
the wind can control it easily
as much as it wants to.
The evening would fall
the flocks would echo descending to their fold
like some quiet simple happy thought
and I would lie down to sleep
because I wouldn’t have
even a candle to light,
light,
to read.
(translated from the Greek by Philip Sherrard)
#poetry#Yorgos Seferis#George Seferis#Greek poetry#solitude#light#wind#carnation#seashore#bird#broken wing#evening#Philip Sherrard#Edmund Keeley
6 notes
·
View notes
Photo
— C. P. CAVAFY, translated from the Greek by Edmund Keeley & Philip Sherrard.
649 notes
·
View notes
Text
we can meet in the space between
descendants 2 (dir. kenny ortega)
space between - sofia carson and dove cameron // the goldfinch - donna tartt // space between - sofia carson and dove cameron // what was missing - ana carrizo // isle of the lost - melissa de la cruz // the pillowcase - annelyse gelman // you know who i am - leonard cohen // leaves of grass - walt whitman // i'm your girl - sofia carson and dove cameron // your love finds its way back - sierra demulder // poem of the end - marina tsvetaeva (trans. elaine feinstein, with angela livingstone) // space between - sofia carson and dove cameron // this is how you lose a time war - amar el-mohtar and max gladstone // the collected poems - george seferis (trans. edmund keeley and philip sherrard // little women (dir. Greta Gerwig) // much ado about nothing - william shakespeare // a self portrait in letters - anne sexton // space between - sofia carson and dove cameron //
#omg i wanted to make a full on malvie progression one but it got away from me so this is all just space between#its such a love ballad and that whole sequence has driven me mad ever since i first saw it#descendants#descendants web weaving#mal#evie#malvie#mal x evie#mal daughter of maleficent#evie daughter of the evil queen#mine*
74 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
imsamwg-wangrueiyi
絕學無憂
captain-raf-cut
Untitled
captain--moony
world spins madly on
okmyejin
ღ Happiness~~ღ
awetfety
Untitled