Résultats lu par "Gideon Wagner" dans Toutes les catégories

Do men need poems? Is the gender of brawn and ‘can-do’ really a candidate for honeyed verse? Obviously yes. Through the centuries men seem to dominate the writing of poetry. From books of epics to quatrains of love poetry it seemed to be a man’s world. His domain. A volume purely for men, to show other facets of their personalities and characters seems to be an obvious choice. One verse fits all is, in fact, far removed from the truth. Men needs words. They need support, understanding as well as goals, ambition and structure. They need purpose, desire; the need to love and be loved.

Macbeth, a general of the army of Duncan, King of Scotland, rises through the ranks after victory over the rebel MacDonald. Inspired by three witches' prediction that he would become king, he and his wife murder Duncan, and he becomes King of Scotland himself. The heir, Malcolm, flees to England, where he is joined by Macduff, the loyal Thane of Fife.

Rudyard Kipling. With our almost religious zeal to categorise and pigeon hole everything it should come as little surprise that one of the poems we learnt at school should so regularly be voted the best ever poem. Whether ‘If..’ deserves that credit or not is irrelevant to this empire wandering artist who was not only a fine story teller but a great poet of the Empires, its people and views.

As private as she was eccentric, Emily Dickinson published only a handful of poems in her lifetime. Most of her work, much of which dealt with themes of death and immortality, was published posthumously, to mixed reviews. But it would be her unconventional poetic style, which was most criticized early on, that would ultimately gain her recognition as one of the greatest American poets of all time. Here, a lovely sampling of the poems of Emily Dickinson is presented for your listening pleasure.

Many giants of literature originate from the shores of the emerald isles: Shakespeare, Dickens, Chaucer, the Brontes, and Austen, to which most people would willingly add the name Thomas Hardy. Far from the Madding Crowd, Tess of the D’Urbervilles, and The Mayor of Casterbridge are but three of his literary masterpieces. But let us go further and add to his canon his poems....

The seas and oceans have a mystical power over us: From a playful day at the beach to the hysterical waves of a storm, this ever-changing element evokes both beauty and fear; its great mass, its shimmering beauty, its raging howl and all in colours from blue to grey to green and crystal clear. In these collections of verse our poets - including Tennyson, Swinburne, Keats, Shelley, and many others - explore the relationship between ourselves and the great mystical waters.

Robert Louis Stevenson. In the Scottish canon to be placed alongside Burns is high praise indeed but it’s a rightful place for one of Scotland’s finest novelists and here, poets. Born in 1850 he managed to cram much into his 44 years travelling widely to France, The States, Samoa and the South Seas.

Amidst all our dreams and ambitions from cradle to grave is the wanderlust of travel. To see the world, to experience different cultures and new lands.

I should be whispering this because Halloween is almost upon us. A time of Witches, Ghouls and Hauntings and all kinds of scary things that come out the evening before All Saints Day to wreak havoc... I'm glad you're listening so let us begin.

The seas and oceans have a mystical power over us: From a playful day at the beach to the hysterical waves of a storm, this ever-changing element evokes both beauty and fear. Its great mass, its shimmering beauty, its raging howl, and all in colours from blue to grey to green and crystal clear. In these collections of verse our poets - including Tennyson, Swinburne, Keats, Shelley, and many others - explore the relationship between ourselves and the great mystical waters.

I should be whispering this because Halloween is almost upon us. A time of Witches, Ghouls and Hauntings and all kinds of scary things that come out the evening before All Saints Day to wreak havoc... I'm glad you're listening so let us begin

At this time of the year, as the nights close in and the temperature drops, winter seems like a season that nobody really enjoys, and we look forward all the more to spring. For many children, however, it is the bounty of Christmas that steals their attention, and for others the renewal of the New Year. But for Nature it is a pause for breath, to take stock of what has gone by in the year to date and ready herself for the energies and dramatic development to the landscape that spring will bring.

For many of us Autumn, or as the Americans would say; Fall is the season of mixed emotions. Summer's long days are replaced by a chill in the air. The colours on the trees and fields ripen to warmer hues and the harvest is brought safely home. Yet with this bounty there is the knowledge that Nature is turning her attention to the harder, colder Winter month's ahead.

Amidst all our dreams and ambitions from cradle to grave is the wanderlust of travel. To see the world, to experience different cultures and new lands.

Ralph Waldo Emerson was born in Boston, Massachusetts on 25th May 1803, the son of Ruth Haskins and the Rev. William Emerson, a Unitarian minister. Emerson was the second of five sons who survived into adulthood. His father died before Emerson was eight, and the young boy was raised by his mother and other female members of the family. Emerson's formal schooling began at the Boston Latin School in 1812 when he was nine. In October 1817 at 14, Emerson went to Harvard College.

Today perhaps we all agree that youth is spoilt, ill-disciplined and in search of constant and instant gratification. No matter how much we love them, our children, as they mature from child to youth, are pampered. A century ago, and even further back, even the most privileged of youth was rarely indulged. In this volume we look at those years of youth through the eyes and pens of classic poets. They reveal times of hardship, of fear, of love and loss.

Herman Melville was born in New York City on August 1st 1819, the third of eight children. At the age of seven, Melville contracted scarlet fever which was to permanently diminish his eyesight. At this time Melville was described as being 'very backwards in speech and somewhat slow in comprehension.' His father died when he was 12, leaving the family in very straitened times. Just 14, Melville took a job in a bank paying $150 a year that he obtained via his uncle Peter Gansevoort, who was one of the directors of the New York State Bank.

This group of 19th-century American poets was the first to rival their British counterparts in popularity. Gathered around their New England roots, they were also known as the Schoolroom or Household poets and comprised of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, William Cullen Bryant, John Greenleaf Whittier, James Russell Lowell and Olivier Wendell Holmes, Sr. Occasionally Ralph Waldo Emerson was included, although his poetic philosophy differed in some key aspects.

The Caroline era was dominated by the growing religious, political and social conflict between the King and his supporters; the Royalists and it's Puritan opposition; the Roundheads. In contrast to the wars raging across Europe at the time, the Caroline period in Britain was an uneasy peace, as a dark shadow of civil conflict between the King and Parliament worsened toward the latter part of Charles’ reign. Whilst theatre unquestionably fell from its glittering peak achievements of William Shakespeare and Ben Jonson, in poetry the standard was perhaps only just shy of this bar.

William Shakespeare was born in Stratford upon Avon in late April 1565. He was one of eight children. Little is known about his life, but what is evident is the enormous contribution he has made to world literature. His writing was progressive, magnificent in scope and breathtaking in execution. His plays and sonnets helped enable the English language to speak with a voice unmatched by any other. William Shakespeare died on 23 April 1616, survived by his wife and two daughters. He was buried two days after his death in the chancel of the Holy Trinity church.