Showing posts with label Love Poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love Poems. Show all posts

27 February 2008

Thursday Thirteen: Gay Love Poems

By Erastes

Continuing our month of love, and because love is love and is for everyone.

Thirteen Things about Gay Love Poetry


1. The Song of Songs, Now widely acknowledged to be a homoerotic poem:

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.

2. Shakespeare, notably the infamous (and very witty) Sonnet 20:

A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes, and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman were thou first created;
Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.

3. Abu Nuwas (756-815):

I die of love for him, perfect in every way,
Lost in the strains of wafting music.

My eyes are fixed upon his delightful body

And I do not wonder at his beauty.
His waist is a sapling, his face a moon,

And loveliness rolls off his rosy cheek

I die of love for you, but keep this secret:

The tie that binds us is an unbreakable rope.
How much time did your creation take, O angel?
So what! All I want is to sing your praises.


4. Michelangelo: In the 1530s, Michelangelo was sustaining a relationship with his much younger model Febo di Poggio. He calls Febo "that little blackmailer," because Febo adopted Michelangelo as "my honorary father" and steadily demanded money, clothes, and love-gifts from him. On a page containing financial calculations, Michelangelo wrote:

Here with his beautiful eyes he promised me solace,
And with those very eyes he tried to take it away from me.


Their passion raged through 1533-34, but ended when Michelangelo discovered that the mignon had "betrayed" him, perhaps by actually stealing money or drawings from his sugar-daddy. The artist felt humiliated by his subservience to the model.

Several poems pun upon the boy's name. "Febo" equals Phoebus, and poggio is the Italian word for "hill"--and suggest physical consummation:

Blithe bird, excelling us by fortune’s sway,
Of Phoebus' thine the prize of lucent notion,
Sweeter yet the boon of winged promotion
To the hill whence I topple and decay!


But such a topple was sweet:

Easily could I soar, with such a happy fate,
When Phoebus brightened up the heights.
His feathers were wings and the hill the stair.
Phoebus was a lantern to my feet.


5. Walt Whitman: Perhaps less love for a single man, but love for the rough-trade he would immerse himself in. Whitman's notebooks of this period are filled with descriptions of buss drivers, ferry-boat men, and other "rude, illiterate" men that he met

I share the midnight orgies of young men . . .
I pick out some low person for my dearest friend,
He shal be lawless, rude, illiterate, he shall be condemned by others for deeds done,
I will play a part no longer, why should I exile myself from my companions?


And more romantically. . .

When I Heard at the Close of the Day (No. 11, from 'Calamus')

And when I thought how my friend, my lover, was on
his way coming, then O I was happy,
Each breath tasted sweeter – and all that day my food
nourished me more – and the beautiful day passed well,
And the next came with equal joy – and with the next,
at evening, came my friend.

6. Lord Alfred (Bosie) Douglas: Famous for being linked to Oscar Wilde and his poem "Two Loves" gives us one of the most famous lines in gay poetry.

I am true Love, I fill
The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.
Then sighing, said the other, 'Have thy will,
I am the love that dare not speak its name.


7. W H Auden's "Funeral Blues," famously famous in Four Weddings & a Funeral:

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.


8. Christopher Marlowe's Edward II. In Gaveston's first speech he reads Edward's letter to him, and he remarks upon it:

'My father is deceased. Come Gaveston,
And share the kingdom with thy dearest friend.'
Ah, words that make me surfeit with delight!
What greater bliss can hap to Gaveston

Than live and be the favourite of a King!

Sweet prince, I come! These, these thy amorous lines
Might have enforced me to have swum from France,

And, like Leander, gasped upon the sand,
So thou wouldst smile, and take me in thine arms.


9. Sir Philip Sidney's "My True-Love Hath My Heart" from Arcadia:

My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange one for the other given..

10. Hafiz, circa 1320-1389:

With looks disheveled, flushed in a sweat of drunkenness His shirt torn open, a song on his lips and wine cup in his hand With eyes looking for trouble, lips softly complaining So at midnight last night he came and sat at my pillow. . . ."

11. Byron's Don Leon (attributed):

How oft, beneath the arbour's mystic shade,
My boyish vows of constancy were made!
There on the grass as we recumbent lay,
Not coy wast thou, nor I averse to play;
And in that hour thy virtue's sole defence
Was not thy coldness, but my innocence.

12. Muhammad al-Nawaji bin Hasan bin Ali bin Othman (1383?-1455) wrote For a Beautiful Black Boy:

Aroused, he exhales
The intense perfume of his musk.
The sight of his face, lit by a ray of light
Imprints itself.

13. Byron's The Cornelian. Byron became obsessed with a choirboy, John Edleston (spelled "Eddleston" by Byron), whom Byron met as a student at Cambridge and with whom he was deeply in love (see The Columbia Anthology of Gay Literature, ed. Byrne R. S. Fone, p. 219) and the poem is about a stone that Edleston once gave the poet.

He offer'd it with downcast look,
As fearful that I might refuse it;
I told him, when the gift I took,
My only fear should be, to lose it.

This pledge attentively I view'd,
And sparkling as I held it near,
Methought one drop the stone bedew'd,
And, ever since, I've lov'd a tear.

18 February 2008

The Love Cycle: Love Poems

By Anne Whitfield

Throughout the centuries, people have written love poems to express desires, longing, hope, heartache and the sheer wonder of love.

I came across a book titled One Hundred And Twenty Asiatic Love Poems, translated by E. Powys Mathers. The book features love poems from around the world.

Here are a few examples.

WE WERE TWO GREEN RUSHES
We were two green rushes by opposing banks,
And the small stream ran between.
Not till the water beat us down
Could we be brought together,
Not till the winter came
Could we be mingled in a frosty sleep,
Locked down and close.
--From the Chinese of J. Wing (nineteenth century).

GEORGIA
PART OF A GHAZAL
Lonely rose out-splendouring legions of roses,
How could the nightingales behold you and not sing?
--By Rustwell of Georgia (from the Tariel, twelfth century).

FARD
Love brings the tiny sweat into your hair
Like stars marching in the dead of night.
--From the Hindustani of Mir Taqui (eighteenth century).

INCURABLE
I desire the door-sill of my beloved
More than a king's house;
I desire the shadow of the wall where her beauty hides
More than the Delhi palaces.
Why did you wait till spring;
Were not my hands already full of red-thorned roses?
My heart is yours,
So that I know not which heart I hear sighing:
Yaquin, Yaquin, Yaquin, foolish Yaquin.
--From the Hindustani of Yaquin (eighteenth century).

A POEM
Joy fills my eyes, remembering your hair, with tears,
And these tears roll and shine;
Into my thoughts are woven a dark night with raindrops
And the rolling and shining of love songs.
--From the Hindustani of Mir Taqui (eighteenth century).

FARD
Ever your rose face or black curls are with Shaguil;
Because your curls are night and your face is day.
--From the Hindustani of Shaguil (eighteenth century).

FARD
A love-sick heart dies when the heart is whole,
For all the heart's health is to be sick with love.
--From the Hindustani of Miyan Jagnu (eighteenth century).

PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE
Your eyes are black like water-melon pips,
Your lips are red like the red flesh of water-melons,
Your loins are smooth like smooth-rind water-melons.
You are more beautiful than my favourite among mares,
Your buttocks are sleeker and firmer,
Like her your movements are on legs of light steel.
Come and sit at my hearth, and I will celebrate your coming;
I will choose from the hundred flocks of each a hundred,
Passing at the foot of the Himalaya,
The two most silky and most beautiful great sheep.
We will go to the temple and sacrifice one of the two
To the god Pandu, that you may have many children;
And I will kill the other and roast it whole,
My most fair rose-tree serving as a spit.
I will ask the prettiest eaters and the prettiest drinkers;
And while they eat and drink greatly for three days,
I will wind silver rings upon your arms and feet
And hang a chain of river gold about your neck.
--Popular Song of Kafiristan.

THE DREAM
I dreamed that I was touching her eyelids, and I awoke
To find her sleepy temples of rose jade
For one heart-beat....
Though the moonlight beats upon the sea,
There is no boat.
--Lyric of Korea.

SEPARATION
As water runs in the river, so runs time;
And ever my eyes are wasted of her presence.
The red flowers of the second moon were yesterday;
To-day the earth has spots of blood, and there are no flowers.
The wild geese were harnessed to the autumn moon;
They have come, I heard their crying, and they are gone.
They have passed and given me no message;
I only hear the falling, falling noise of white rain.
--Song of Korea