LITERATURE

  • Poems:

     

    Lament of Ariadna: ALEJANDRO UGARTE



    This poem talk about the affection of Ariadna to Dionysos.She was abandoned on the Island of Naxos .

    The author of this poem is Fiedrich Nietzsche:

     

    Who will warm me, who loves me still?

    Give warm hands!

    Give the heart's brazier!

    Prone, shuddering

    Like one half dead, whose feet are warmed;

    Shaken, alas! by unknown fevers,

    Trembling at pointed arrows of glacial frost,

    Hunted by you, Thought!

    Nameless! Cloaked! Horrid!

    You hunter behind clouds!

    Struck down by your lightning,

    Your scornful eye, glaring at me out of the dark!

    Thus I lie,

    Writhing, twisted, tormented

    By all the eternal afflictions,

    Struck

    By you, cruelest hunter,

    You unknown—god ...

     

    Strike deeper!

    Strike one more time!

    Stab, break this heart!

    Why all this affliction

    With blunt-toothed arrows?

    How can you gaze evermore,

    Unweary of human agony,

    With the spiteful lightning eyes of gods?

    You do not wish to kill,

    Only to torment, torment?

    Why torment—me,

    You spiteful unknown god?

     

    Aha!

    You creep closer

    Around midnight? ...

    What do you want?

    Speak!

    You push me, press upon me,

    Ah, already much too close!

    You hear me breathing,

    You eavesdrop on my heart,

    Most jealous one! —

    What are you jealous of anyway?

    Away! Away!

    What's the ladder for?

    Do you want inside,

    Would you get into my heart,

    And enter

    My most secret thoughts?

    Shameless one! Unknown! Thief!

    What do you wish to steal for yourself?

    What do you wish to hear for yourself?

    What will you gain by torture,

    You torturer!

    You—executioner-god!

    Or am I, like a dog,

    To wallow before you?

    Devoted, eager due to my

    Love for you—fawning over you?

    In vain!

    It stabs again!

    Cruelest sting!

    I am not your dog, only your prey,

    Cruelest hunter!

    Your proudest prisoner,

    You robber behind clouds ...

    Speak finally!

    You, cloaked by lightning! Unknown! Speak!

    What do you want, highwayman, from—me?...

     

    What?

    A ransom?

    What do you want for ransom?

    Demand much—so advises my pride!

    And talk little—my pride advises as well!

     

    Aha!

    Me?—you want me?

    Me—all of me? ...

     

    Aha!

    And tormenting me, fool that you are,

    You wrack my pride?

    Give me love—who warms me still?

    Who loves me still?

    Give warm hands,

    Give the heart's brazier,

    Give me, the loneliest one,

    Ice, alas! whom ice sevenfold

    Has taught to yearn for enemies,

    Even for my enemies

    Give, yes, surrender to me,

    Cruelest enemy —

    Yourself! ...

     

    Gone!

    He has fled,

    My only companion,

    My splendid enemy,

    My unknown,

    My executioner-god! ...

     

    No!

    Come back!

    With all your afflictions!

    All my tears gush forth

    To you they stream

    And the last flames of my heart

    Glow for you.

    Oh, come back,

    My unknown god! my pain!

    My ultimate happiness!....

     

    A lightening bolt. Dionysus becomes visible in emerald beauty.

     

    Dionysus:

     

    Be clever, Ariadne!...

    You have little ears; you have my ears:

    Put a clever word in them! —

    Must one not first hate oneself, in order to love oneself?...

    I am your labyrinth...

     

     

     

    ALEJANDRO UGARTE

     

     

     

    The Labyrinth: (NEREA Y ANA BARTOLOMÉ)


    Poem of Luis Borges:

    No habrá nunca una puerta. Estás adentro
    y el alcázar abarca el universo
    y no tiene ni anverso ni reverso
    ni externo muro ni secreto centro.
    No esperes que el rigor de tu camino
    que tercamente se bifurca en otro,
    que tercamente se bifurca en otro,
    tendrá fin. Es de hierro tu destino
    como tu juez. No aguardes la embestida
    del toro que es un hombre y cuya extraña
    forma plural da horror a la maraña
    de interminable piedra entretejida.
    No existe. Nada esperes. Ni siquiera
    en el negro crepúsculo la fiera.


    This poem talks about how a person sees the maze inside and like going to face the facts that happen within the maze knowing that there is the Minotaur.

    Ana y Nerea Bartolomé