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1

15.04.2004, 17:00

fuer die Poets ...

Hmm rafft das jemand? (-_-)
Ich weiss nicht aber ich verstehe nicht wirklich was es damit sagen will ..

The Angel
William Blake
-[ Go ]-
I dreamt a dream! What can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen
Guarded by an Angel mild:
Witless woe was ne'er beguiled!

And I wept both night and day,
And he wiped my tears away;
And I wept both day and night,
And hid from him my heart's delight.

So he took his wings, and fled;
Then the morn blushed rosy red.
I dried my tears, and armed my fears
With ten-thousand shields and spears.

Soon my Angel came again;
I was armed, he came in vain;
For the time of youth was fled,
And grey hairs were on my head.
-[ cut ]-
ò_Ó

Beiträge: 1 106

Wohnort: pampa in baden württemberg

Beruf: GER

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2

15.04.2004, 19:37

Was daran findest denn so unverständlich? gibs zu, Du musst in der schule ein Referat drüber halten! :P :D

3

15.04.2004, 19:42

poste es auf dt. phil und ich helfe dir ^^

4

16.04.2004, 13:20

RE: fuer die Poets ...

Analyse
und dort auf die bildteile (illustration, titel, strophen) klicken.
hth

-=)GWC(RaMsEs

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5

16.04.2004, 13:48

wenn du noch üben willst

Don Mclean
Vincent

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul...
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand
What you tried to say, to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free:
They would not listen; they did not know how --
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand
What you tried to say, to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free:
They would not listen; they did not know how --
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you
But still, your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do --
But I could've told you, Vincent:
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you.

Starry, Starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know
What you tried to say, to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free:
They would not listen; they're not listening still --
Perhaps they never will.

bedeutung mehrdeutig

6

16.04.2004, 13:57

ne ramses der philipp muss nciht lernen

8

16.04.2004, 14:12

was machst du so früh am pc phil

10

16.04.2004, 18:15

haste ferien mein lieber