Notes on “The Scream”

N
notat 615

Jeg gik bortover veien med
to venner—
så gik solen ned
Himmelen blev pludseli blod
—og jeg følte som et pust af vemod—
en sugende smerte under hjertet
{S}Jeg standset—lænet mig
til gjæret træt til døden
over den blåsvarte fjor og by
lå skyer af blod dryppende
{ ... }rygende blod
{ ...}Mine venner gik videre og
jeg sto igjen skjælvende af med et åpent sår
i mit bryst—{ ... }skjælvende af angest
og jeg følte der gik et stort
uendeligt skrik gennem naturen


note 615

Translated from the Norwegian

I walked along the road with
two friends—
the sun set
the Sky suddenly blood
—and I felt as a gust of melancholy—
a sucking pain under the heart
{S}I stopped—leaned against
the fence tired as death
over the blue-black fjord and city
laid clouds of blood dripping
{ ... }smoking blood
{ ... } My friends walked on and
I stood quivering with with an open wound
in my breast—{ ... } quivering with anxiety
I felt tearing through nature
a great unending shriek


notat 644

Jeg gik bortover veien med to
venner—
og Solen gik ned
Himmelen blev pludseli blod
—og jeg følte som et pust af vemod
Jeg standset—lænet mig til gjæret
træt til døden
Over den blåsvarte fjor og by
lå skyer af dryppende rygende
blod
Mine venner gik videre og jeg stod
igjen i angest med et åpent sår
i mit bryst.
{jeg}og jeg følte der gik et stort
skrik gik gennem naturen


note 644

Translated from the Norwegian

I walked along the road with two
friends—
and the Sun set
the Sky suddenly blood
—and I felt as a gust of melancholy
I stopped—leaned against the fence
tired to death
Over the blue-black fjord and city
laid clouds of dripping smoking
blood
My friends walked on and I stood
lone in the anxiety with an open wound
in my breast.
{I}and I felt tearing a great
shriek tore through nature
96
Rating:

Comment form:

*Max text - 500. Manual moderation.

Similar Poems:

Renascence by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
All I could see from where I stood
Was three long mountains and a wood;
I turned and looked another way,
And saw three islands in a bay.
So with my eyes I traced the line
Of the horizon, thin and fine,
Straight around till I was come
Back to where I'd started from;
And all I saw from where I stood
Was three long mountains and a wood.

Over these things I could not see;
These were the things that bounded me;
And I could touch them with my hand,
Almost, I thought, from where I stand.
Read Poem
0
93
Rating:

The Fête by Charlotte Mew
Charlotte Mew
To-night again the moon’s white mat
Stretches across the dormitory floor
While outside, like an evil cat
The pion prowls down the dark corridor,
Planning, I know, to pounce on me, in spite
For getting leave to sleep in town last night.
But it was none of us who made that noise,
Only the old brown owl that hoots and flies
Read Poem
0
139
Rating:

Desert by Adonis
Adonis
The cities dissolve, and the earth is a cart loaded with dust
Only poetry knows how to pair itself to this space.

No road to this house, a siege,
and his house is graveyard.
Read Poem
0
250
Rating:

The Kingfishers by Charles Olson
Charles Olson
1

What does not change / is the will to change

He woke, fully clothed, in his bed. He
remembered only one thing, the birds, how
when he came in, he had gone around the rooms
and got them back in their cage, the green one first,
she with the bad leg, and then the blue,
the one they had hoped was a male
Read Poem
0
93
Rating:

Robert Duncan by Robin Blaser
Robin Blaser
the absence was there before the meeting the radical of
presence and absence does not return with death’s chance-
encounter, as in the old duality, life or death, wherein
the transcendence of the one translates the other into an everness
we do not meet in heaven, that outward of hell and death’s
beauty it is a bright and terrible disk
where Jack is, where
Charles is, where James is, where Berg is is here in the continuous
Read Poem
0
74
Rating:

Mugging (I) by Allen Ginsberg
Allen Ginsberg
I

Tonite I walked out of my red apartment door on East tenth street’s dusk—
Walked out of my home ten years, walked out in my honking neighborhood
Tonite at seven walked out past garbage cans chained to concrete anchors
Walked under black painted fire escapes, giant castiron plate covering a hole in ground
—Crossed the street, traffic lite red, thirteen bus roaring by liquor store,
past corner pharmacy iron grated, past Coca Cola & Mylai posters fading scraped on brick
Past Chinese Laundry wood door’d, & broken cement stoop steps For Rent hall painted green & purple Puerto Rican style
Read Poem
0
79
Rating:

Laus Veneris by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Lors dit en plourant; Hélas trop malheureux homme et mauldict pescheur, oncques ne verrai-je clémence et miséricorde de Dieu. Ores m'en irai-je d'icy et me cacherai dedans le mont Horsel, en requérant de faveur et d'amoureuse merci ma doulce dame Vénus, car pour son amour serai-je bien à tout jamais damné en enfer. Voicy la fin de tous mes faicts d'armes et de toutes mes belles chansons. Hélas, trop belle estoyt la face de ma dame et ses yeulx, et en mauvais jour je vis ces chouses-là . Lors s'en alla tout en gémissant et se retourna chez elle, et là vescut tristement en grand amour près de sa dame. Puis après advint que le pape vit un jour esclater sur son baston force belles fleurs rouges et blanches et maints boutons de feuilles, et ainsi vit-il reverdir toute l'escorce. Ce dont il eut grande crainte et moult s'en esmut, et grande pitié lui prit de ce chevalier qui s'en estoyt départi sans espoir comme un homme misérable et damné. Doncques envoya force messaigers devers luy pour le ramener, disant qu'il aurait de Dieu grace et bonne absolution de son grand pesché d'amour. Mais oncques plus ne le virent; car toujours demeura ce pauvre chevalier auprès de Vénus la haulte et forte déesse ès flancs de la montagne amoureuse.

Livre des grandes merveilles d'amour, escript en latin et en françoys par Maistre Antoine Gaget. 1530.
Asleep or waking is it? for her neck,
Kissed over close, wears yet a purple speck
Wherein the pained blood falters and goes out;
Soft, and stung softly — fairer for a fleck.
Read Poem
0
112
Rating:

Sway by Louis Simpson
Louis Simpson
Swing and sway with Sammy Kaye Everyone at Lake Kearney had a nickname:
there was a Bumstead, a Tonto, a Tex,
Read Poem
0
82
Rating:

This Lime-tree Bower my Prison by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
[Addressed to Charles Lamb, of the India House, London] Well, they are gone, and here must I remain,
This lime-tree bower my prison! I have lost
Read Poem
0
84
Rating: