Seikilos Sitio | Los Mejores Libros de Poesia

Christopher Rollason Biography

BillHudsjulio 8, 2018octubre 8, 2018Leave a Comment

Dr Christopher Rollason is a British national living in France. He graduated with First Class Honours in English literature from Trinity College, Cambridge (England) in 1975, and obtained his Ph.D. from York University (England) in 1988, with a dissertation on Edgar Allan Poe. For eight years up to 1987 he was a member of the Department of Anglo-American Studies at the Faculty of Letters of Coimbra University (Portugal). Dr Rollason has worked in recent years in various contexts – institutional contacts, conferences, publications, etc – with the following universities: Surrey and Manchester (England), Caen (France), Bologna (Italy), Vigo and Córdoba (Spain) San Marcos (Lima, Peru), and, Kakatiya University (Warangal), CIEFL (Hyderabad) and IIT Kanpur, all in India. In March 2006 he was a Visiting Professor at Jawaharlal Nehru University (Delhi). He is a member of AEDEAN (the Spanish Association of Anglo-American Studies).

Dr Rollason has been …

Capítulo 10 (“Rocas errantes”)

BillHudsjulio 8, 2018enero 16, 2019Leave a Comment

Stephen camina por la calle, mira las vidrieras, y finalmente encuentra a su hermana Dilly, quien le empeñó sus libros, y que ha comprado con el magro dinero que le ha sonsacado al padre un libro de francés para escapar a París, como el hermano. Stephen, que no tiene un mal pasar, siente remordimientos por la miseria de su familia, piensa en la madre que se ahogó recientemente en su propio vómito. Esta sección, entre las dieciocho que componen el capítulo diez, es en gran parte dependiente del idioma inglés. Todas las secciones se suponen concomitantes, y hay pequeños indicios cronológicos para ensamblarlas (en este caso, una referencia al padre Conmee).

Stephen Dedalus watched through the webbed window the lapidary’s fingers prove a timedulled chain. Dust webbed the window and the showtrays. Dust darkened the toiling fingers with their vulture nails. Dust slept on dull

…

Seikilos

BillHudsjunio 2, 2018octubre 8, 2018Leave a Comment

It’s a common belief that the earliest Western music sheet we have is that of the Seikilos epitaph, a Greek grave stele from the first century AD. It’s a drinking song (skolion), written by Seikilos for her wife Euterpe, preceded by the following text:

I am an image in stone. Seikilos put me here, where I am forever, the symbol of eternal remembrance.

And the song itself is a melancholic melody on these words:

Shine, as long as you live;
do not be sad.
Cause life is surely too short,
and time demands its toll.

You can find a version of the same song arranged by me in the music section.

The stele was found in 1883 in Aydin, Turkey, and lost during the Asia Minor Holocaust (1922). Later it was found again, broken in its base: the woman who had it used …

Don’t give up

BillHudsabril 8, 2018enero 16, 2019Leave a Comment

Traducción: (por Leandro Fanzone)

In this proud land we grew up strong
We were wanted all along
I was taught to fight, taught to win
I never thought I could failNo fight left or so it seems
I am a man whose dreams have all deserted
I’ve changed my face, I’ve changed my name
But no one wants you when you loseDon’t give up
’cos you have friends
Don’t give up
You’re not beaten yet
Don’t give up
I know you can make it goodThough I saw it all around
Never thought I could be affected
Thought that we’d be the last to go
It is so strange the way things turn

Drove the night toward my home
The place that I was born, on the lakeside
As daylight broke, I saw the earth
The trees had burned down to the ground

Don’t give

…

No Surprises (“Sin Sorpresas”)

BillHudsabril 2, 2018enero 16, 2019Leave a Comment

Traducción: (por Nicolás Rebelo)

A heart that’s full up like a landfill,
a job that slowly kills you,
bruises that won’t heal.
You look so tired-unhappy,
bring down the government,
they don’t, they don’t speak for us.
I’ll take a quiet life,
a handshake of carbon monoxide,with no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
Silent silence.This is my final fit,
my final bellyache,

with no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises please.

Such a pretty house
and such a pretty garden.

No alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises please.

Un corazón lleno como un vaciadero de basura,
un trabajo que mata lentamente,
contusiones que no se curan.
Te ves tan cansado e infeliz,
derroquemos al gobierno,
ellos no, no hablan

…

Itaca (“Ιθάκη”, Kavafis)

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En la calle Chile, esquina Perú, en San Telmo, en Buenos Aires, apareció este stencil; ignoro si todavía está ahí. El tema es Odiseo (Ulises), ávido de curiosidad por oír el canto de las sirenas, atado a un mástil para no sucumbir a la seducción. Las sirenas, pájaros con rostros femeninos, cantaban irresistiblemente, llevando a los hombres a la perdición. Los marineros que acompañan a Odiseo tienen los oídos tapados con cera; el héroe se encadena para escuchar, para saber más. Este tema fue retomado por muchos: por Leonardo, quien escribió que la canción de las sirenas era dulce para llamar al sueño, y que luego mataban a los durmientes; por Kafka, quien puso cera en los oídos de Odiseo, y la curiosidad por verlas, en vez de escucharlas (las sirenas de Kafka, en lugar de cantar, callan, terriblemente). También Joyce tomó a las sirenas …