Esileht > Kriitika, Luule > Oo, luule. Oo.

Oo, luule. Oo.

29. august, 2009 Tiit Aleksejev

41tbwpyztzl_ss500_1Ka mina loen sel suvel luulet. Antoloogiaid. Üks neist, Kathryn Petrasi ja Ross Petrasi koostatud “Väga halb luule”, mängib mu hingekandle keeltel juba mõnda aega. Mis siis ühendab väga head ja väga halba poeesiat? Muusa puudutus, ma arvan. Tõeliselt halva luuletuse tunneb koheselt ära. Nagu tõeliselt heagi. Värsikeeles öelduna:

saab aru sellest inimene tark ja rumal,
ühtmoodi kohal on neis Jumal.

See on minu panus.

Panen siia üles mõned näited - vabandan, et inglise keeles - aga originaali värskus võib selle žanri puhul olla väärtuseks omaette.

Eleegiliselt, sotto voce:

James McIntyre. “Shelley”

We have scarcely time to tell thee
Of the strange and gifted Shelley,
Kind hearted man, but ill-fated,
So youthful drowned and cremated.

Tõeliselt halb luuletaja vaimustub kõigest surmaga seostuvast. Ja paneb värvi juurde:

Amanda McKittrick Ros (1860 - 1939). “On Visiting Westminster Abbey”

Holy Moses! Have a look!
Flesh decayed in every nook!
Some rare bits of brain lie here
Mortal loads of beef and beer,
Some of whom are turn to dust,
Every one bids lost to lust

Famous some were - yet they died;
Poets - Statesman - Rogues beside,
Kings - Queens, all them do rot,
What about them? Now - they’re not!

Kuidas banaalset teemat veelgi banaalsemaks kirjutada:

Julia A. Moore. “The Grand Rapids Cricket Club”

When Mr Dennis does well play,
His courage is full great,
And accidents to him occur,
But not much though, of late.

Ainuke teadaolev luuletus maailmas, mis on inspireeritud tellisest:

Wallace Bruce (1907). “A Holland Brick”

O Jolly brick, with kindly wrinkled face,
With Ruddy cheek and and hospitable look,
By Knickerbocker you shall have a place
And on my mantel stand, my quaintest book.

Epitome of hearty, happy days,
When even bricks were honest, good and true;
A gentle humor o’er your visage plays -
With heart and hand I welcome you.

Õudseim näide traagilisest sündmusest:

William McGonagall. “Family of Ten Burned to Death”

Oh, Heaven! It was a frightful and pitiful sight to see
Seven bodies charred of the Jarvis family;
And Mrs. Jarvis was found with her child, and both carbonized.
And as the searchers gazed thereon they were surprised.

And these were lying beside the fragments of the bed,
And in a chair the the tenth victim was sitting dead;
Oh Horrible! Oh, Horrible! What a sight to behold,
The charred and burnt bodies of both young and old.

Mida on võimalik teha süntaksiga… tõlkija, pane tähele!

Joseph Gwyer. “On a Procession with the Prince of Wales”

At evening too the dazzled light
Illumed the darkness of the night
I can’t paint it for reasons best.
‘Twas grand, though I in crowd was pressed.

Vaimne kolmikhüpe. Ja selle vormiline väljendus:

J.W Scholl. “The Light-Bearer of Liberty”

Gooing babies, helpless pygmies,
Who shall solve your Fate’s enigmas?

Mida teha kui sonett peas kinni jookseb:

George Wither (1588 - 1667)
….
Her hair like gold did glister,
Each eye was like a star;
She did surpass her sister,
Which passed all others far.
She would me honey call;
She’d, O she’d kiss me too,
But now, alas, sh’ as left me.
Falero, lero, loo.

Tuulevaikus troopilisel merel stiilis Patrick O’Brian:

Eliza Cook (1818 - 1889). “Song of the Sea Weed”.

Many a lip is gaping for drink,
And madly calling for rain;
And some hot brains are beginning to think
Of a messmate’s opened vein.

Ja lõpuks, toimetajate üksmeelsel otsusel, The Worst Poem Ever:

Theophile Marzials (1850-1922). “A Tragedy”.

Death!
Plop.
The barges down in the river flop.
Flop, plop,
Above, beneath.
From the slimy branches the grey drips drop. …
To the oozy waters, that lounge and flop. …
And my head shrieks - “Stop”
And my heart shrieks - “Die.” …

Ugh! Yet I knew - I knew
If a woman is false can a friend be true?
It was only a lie from beginning to end -
My devil - My “Friend” …

So what do I care,
And my head is empty as air -
I can do,
I can dare
(Plop, plop
The barges flop
Drip, drop.)
I can dare, I can dare!

And let myself all run away with my head
And stop.
Drop
Dead.
Plop, flop.

Plop.

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