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Is english the best language for poems.
<<So let me assure you, American film makers can be every bit as into the snobish, artistic masterbations of contemporary film as the best of European film makers.>>.
Оk, I agree, although I wasn't referring to those European 'artsy' films, but rather to underground Eastern European "Bear Amongst Men" and flicks.
I don't know about best, but probably one of the most difficult (at least relative to other European languages). English is notoriously difficult to rhyme, a problem you don't really find with Germany or Italian.
<<English is the best language for swearing, especially four-letter words. >>
Some bilingual folks claim that Spanish far better for swearing and insulting (and also much better for song lyrics).
<<Another question worth posing would be to ask why so much of the publishing industry is in the US and England with about 50000 new books from the US in 2007.>>
Actually, I think it has to do with the lack of accent marks in English. This makes is much easier to do typesetting, leading to improved productivity, etc.
<<I think the best languages for poetry are the Romance languages, especially French, Spanish and Italian. >>
There are more languages in the world besides Mexican, mexican and Mexicain ok
<< Many people say that english is one of the best language for poems.
Whilst French is one of the best for prose. Do you think it because of the huge vocab of the english language which allows it to be subtile, thus, making the poem more intersting? Discuss >> It must be Americans who say that. Who are always cited as the greatest 'early' English poets besides Shakespeare, Chaucer etc? Not too many that I honestly can think of.
It seems to me that the best language for poetry is one's native language. You never really can feel a poem in another language the same way you can feel it in your native tongue.
"Is english [sic] the best language for poems?"
No. Next question, please.
Amoeba Tue Apr 28, 2009 3:43 pm GMT
O.K. My next question: Are poems best written in English? -------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------- No! The best poems are written in Chinese.
Amoeba Wed Apr 29, 2009 2:01 am GMT
O.K. My next question: Is Shuimo the most hated poster here? ======================= Open a thread to discuss it!
静夜思
[ 唐 ] 李白 床 前 明 月 光， 疑 是 地 上 霜。 举 头 望 明 月， 低 头 思 故 乡。 Could anyone of a western cultural background grasp the beauty and emotion of this household known Chinese poem?
Here are seven English versions of the poem!
See which one you find reading like a poem! 1).In the Still of the Night I descry bright moonlight in front of my bed. I suspect it to be hoary frost on the floor. I watch the bright moon, as I tilt back my head. I yearn, while stooping, for my homeland more. 2).A Tranquil Night Abed, I see a silver light, I wonder if it"s frost aground. Looking up, I find the moon bright; Bowing, in homesickness I"m drowned. 3).In the Quiet Night So bright a gleam on the foot of my bed--- Could there have been a frost already? Lifting my head to look, I found that it was moonlight. Sinking back again, I thought suddenly of home. (Tr. Witter Bynner) 4). Night Thoughts I wake, and moonbeams play around my bed, Glittering like hoar-frost to my wandering eyes; Up towards the glorious moon I raise my head, Then lay me down---and thoughts of home arise. ( Tr. Herbert A. Giles) 5). On a Quiet Night I saw the moonlight before my couch, And wondered if it were not the frost on the ground. I raised my head and looked out on the mountain noon, I bowed my head and though of my far-off home. (TR. S. Obata) 6). The Moon Shines Everywhere Seeing the moon before my couch so bright I thought hoar frost had fallen from the night. On her clear face I gaze with lifted eyes: Then hide them full of Youth"s sweet memories. (Tr. W.J.B. Fletcher) 7). Night Thoughts In front of my bed the moonlight is very bright. I wonder if that can be frost on the floor? I list up my head and look at the full noon, the dazzling moon. I drop my head, and think of the home of old days. (Tr. Amy Lowell) 8). Thoughts in a Tranquil Night Athwart the bed I watch the moonbeams cast a trail So bright, so cold, so frail, That for a space it gleams Like hoar-frost on the margin of my dreams. I raise my head, - The splendid moon I see: Then droop my head, And sink to dreams of thee - My father land , of thee! (Tr. L. Cranmer-Byng) |