One of my very favorites. Done SO well. Kudos.

Poems

Quivi è la rosa in che’l verbo divino
carne si fece; quivi son li gigli
al cui odor si prese il buon cammino.

[Here is that rose through whom the Divine Word
was made into flesh; here too those lilies
by whose fragrance was taken the just road.]


Dante Aligheri, Paradiso, Canto XXIII, 73-75
English translation by Christopher Lyndon-Gee


Il nome del bel fior - 02. Quivi è la rosa

Singer Pur
Mainzer Musiksommer, Seminarkirche
21 August 2016
Recorded live by Radio Südwestrundfunk 2

it is enough
it is after the end
it's done

it all came to nothing
the strong overcame the weak
as it was in the beginning, it was not in the end

it is enough
that was the last one
it's over
the last one
it's done
and you lost

close the door
shut off the world
without end

it all came to nothing
the strong overcame the weak
as it was...

no tears
no sighs
not the memory of an angel

it is not enough
 
you, the outcast
you, the forgotten
you, the sick at heart
you, on the sidelines
shut in, shut out
bitter, yet silent
you're going from noplace to nowhere

it is not enough

©2016 Joanne Metcalf

It Is Enough (live - SWR2 Radio)

'Acquainted With The Night,' a poem by Robert Frost, read by RM.

THE SECOND COMING
William Butler Yeats


    Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.
    Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
    Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
    Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
    The darkness drops again but now I know
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?


THE SECOND COMING by William Butler YEATS read by MAN POEMS

The Lake Isle of Innisfree
  by W. B. Yeats


I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core. 

THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE by William Butler YEATS read by MAN POEMS

Do not go gentle into that good night
 
by Dylan Thomas


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 


DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT by Dylan THOMAS read by MAN POEMS

Talking in Bed
by Philip Larkin
read by: Bill Burns


Talking in bed ought to be easiest,
Lying together there goes back so far,
An emblem of two people being honest.

Yet more and more time passes silently.
Outside, the wind's incomplete unrest
Builds and disperses clouds about the sky,

And dark towns heap up on the horizon.
None of this cares for us. Nothing shows why
At this unique distance from isolation

It becomes still more difficult to find
Words at once true and kind,
Or not untrue and not unkind.

TALKING IN BED by Philip LARKIN read by MAN POEMS

Man Poems is poetry by men, about men, and read by men.


DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT by Dylan THOMAS read by MAN POEMS

Man Poems

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