LEARNING FROM WILLIAM SHAKEAPEARE

 

          LEARNING FROM WILLIAM SHAKEAPEARE

            The British poet-playwright William Shakespeare was born on 23 April 1564 and died on the same date in 1616. He had no adequate schooling to become a great poet or dramatist.

            It will not wrong to say that he was a born genius. He wrote thirtyseven plays of all types –farce, history, romantic comedy and tragedy. He is also credited with one hundred and fifty-four sonnets and five long poems.

            His tragic plays Macbeth, Hamlet, King Lear and Othello are marvelous both for their contents and craftsmanship. In these and other plays, there are great soliloquies and speeches. ‘The Seven Ages of Man’ is one of them from his great comedy As You Like It.

            Given below is a didactic speech from the play Hamlet. It is addressed by a character Polonius, a counsellor of state, to his son Laertes,  when he is leaving for France.

            The whole speech is full of maxims pregnant with universal wisdom to be acquired by every person to become enlightened.  

            Here is the full text of the speech:

           

            “Give thy thoughts no tongue,

            Nor any unproportioned thought his act.

            Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.

            Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,

            Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel,

            But do not dull thy palm with entertainment

            Of each new-hatch’d, unfledg’d courage. Beware

            Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,

            Bear’t that th’ opposed may beware of thee.

            Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice,

            Take each man’s censure, but reserve the judgment.

            Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

            But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;

            For the apparel oft proclaims the man,

            And they in France of the best rank and station

            Are of a most select and generous chief in that.

            Neither a borrower nor a lender be,

            For loan oft loses both itself and friend,

            And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

            This above all : to thine own self be true,

            And it must follow as the night the day

            Thou canst not then be false to any man.

            Farewell, my blessing season in thee.

                                                *******

G.R.Kanwal

24 May 2025

Man Be Not Proud

 

          Man Be Not Proud

            Pride is considered as one of the seven deadly sins. It does not behove any man to be proud of his power.

            The Bible says: Dust thou are and to dust you shall return.”

            According to the English poet Lord Byron(1788-1824) man is : Half dust, half deity, alike unfit to sin or soar.  

            The American author Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-64}  felt : When a man is a brute, he is the most sensual and loathsome of all brutes.

            The English Poet Alexander Pope (1688-1744 ) describes man as : The glory, jest and riddle of the world.

            History tells us that If a man is  proud ,vain, arrogant, conceited, haughty , boastful, insolent, supercilious, pompous, overbearing, egoistic or disdainful, he loses his glory and becomes detestable.  

            Here is relevant poem “ Ozymandias”  by the English poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822).

I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said ---“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert.  Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked  them, and the heart that fed;

 

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

 

            Ozymandias  was Egyptian pharaoh Ramesses II (Died 1213 BC). He was popularly known as Ramesses the Great. The word pharaoh was then the title of the rulers of ancient Egypt.             

            The moral of the poem is the tragic fall of arrogant kings who rule like dictators. Their rule is always transitory. Ultimately they vanish and leave this message for their successors:

 

“Look on my works ye Mighty, and despair!

                                    ********

G.R.Kanwal

23 May 2025          

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

         

 

NOWHERE PATH

 

          NOWHERE PATH

            Lovers of nature like to visit natural places about which they have no previous knowledge. The spring season is particularly fascinating for them. They just leave their homes and take a pathway that leads to nowhere. It satisfies their curiosity about infinite beauty nature.

             The American poet, writer and lecturer Corinne Roosevelt Robinson (1861-1933) has written a poem titled The Path That Leads To Nowhere.  She was the younger sister of President of the United States.

            According to a critic her poem “depicts a solitary path leading to an idyllic natural setting marked by a flowing river, willows, birches, and violets. The absence of a clear destination or purpose sets this path apart from others that lead to specific places.”     

            While going through this poem I was reminded of the following quote of the English poet John Keats (1795-1821):

            “Heard melodies are sweet but those unheard are sweeter.”

            Corinne Roosevelt Robinson concludes her poem with the following spiritually philosophic  words:

            On the path that leads to Nowhere

            I have sometimes found my soul.

 

Given below are some lines from the poem:

 

“Other pathways lead to Somewhere,

But the one I love so well

Had no end and no beginning—

Just the beauty of the dell,

Just the windflowers and the lilies,

Yellow striped as adder’s tongue,

Seem to satisfy my pathway

As it winds their sweets amomg.

 

….All the ways that  lead to Somewhere

Echo with the hurrying feet

Of the Struggling and the Striving,

But the way I find so sweet

Bids me dream and bids me linger—

Joy and Beauty are its goal.

                                                            *********

G.R.Kanwal

22 May 20251

NOW --- A POEM

 

          NOW --- A POEM

            “Now” is an inspirational poem written by the English poet Adelaide Anne Procter (1825-1864).  She was born in London and was known as a social activist and philanthropist.  

             Her literary career began early just at the age of 20. Her father Bryan Waller Procter was also a poet besides being a lawyer.  Her mother, too, was a literary figure.

            Adelaide published her poetry under the pseudonym “Mary Berwick in the periodicals of the English writer Charles Dickens(1812-1870).

            She was the most popular poet of the day. Even Queen Victoria was her fan.

            Adelaide fought for women’s rights including those of education, employment and property. She even supported Catholic widows and orphans.      

            Her poems reflect her religious beliefs and concern for the poor and marginalized.

            “Now” is one of her most famous poems. Its theme is the importance of the time on hand. She wants everybody to do her job “Now” and shun  brooding over the past events and future dreams. Only the current moment is real and reliable. The time that has gone and the time that is to come should not be allowed to affect the activities of the present moment.

            Given below is the full text of the poem.

    Rise ! for the day is passing,
And you lie dreaming on;
The others have buckled their armor,
And forth to the fight are gone:
A place in the ranks awaits you,
Each man has some part to play;
The Past and Future are nothing,
In the face of the stern To-day.

Rise from your dreams of the Future,
Of gaining some hard-fought field;
Of storming some airy fortress,
Or bidding some giant yield;
Your Future has deeds of glory,
Of honor (God giant it may!)
But your arm will never be stronger,
Or the need so great as To-day.

Rise! if the Past detains you,
Her sunshine and storms forget;
No chains so unworthy to hold you
As those of a vain regret:
Sad or bright, she is lifeless ever;
Cast her phantom arms away,
Nor look back, save to learn the lesson
Of a nobler strife To-day.

Rise! for the day is passing;
The sound that you scarcely hear
Is the enemy marching to battle: —
Arise! for the foe is here!
Stay not to sharpen your weapons,
Or the hour will strike at last,
When from dreams of a coming battle,
You may wake to find it past!

                                                **********

G.R.Kanwal

21^st May 2025

                            

THE PRODIGAL SON

 

          THE PRODIGAL SON

            The story of ‘The Prodigal Son’ is given in the Bible. It goes like this:

             A person had two sons. The younger one was extravagant. He said to the father: Give me the portion of goods that fall to my share. The father agreed and the son went to a far off country where he wasted all his goods by riotous living.

            And when he was left with no goods, there occurred a mighty famine which made him a pauper. He then went to an employer of that country who posted him into his fields to feed swine. There he filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat.

            This miserable condition reminded him of his father,  and he said to himself: “How many hired servants of my father have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger!  I will arise and go to him , and will say , “Father, I have sinned against Heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. Make me one of thy hired servants.”

            Then he actually returned to his father who, as he saw him, was filled with compassion, fell on his neck and kissed him.  The son said to him: Father, I have sinned against Heaven and in thy sight I am no longer to be called thy son.”

            But the father said to his servants: “Bring forth the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet, and bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it, and let us eat, and be merry. For this my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.”

            But when his elder son returned from the field and the father told him: Thy brother is come and I have received him safe and sound.“

            The elder son was very agitated and unhappy. And to appease him, the father said :  “Son thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should merry and be glad, for thy brother was dead, and is alive again, and was lost, but found again.”

            The moral of this Biblical story is the miraculous result of repentance and atonement.

            The Father in the story is God who forgives his unlawful wicked sons when they repent whole-heartedly.

            To conclude: The Persian mystical poet Jalaluddin  Rumi (1207-1273) says:

            Come, come, whoever you are.

            Wanderer,  fire- worshipper, lover of leaving.

             This is not a caravan of despair

            It does not matter that you have broken your vow

            A thousand times, still come,

            And yet again come.

                                                            *******

G.R.Kanwal

20 May 2025

HALF-CASTE GIRL

 

          HALF-CASTE GIRL

            “Half-caste Girl” is a poem written by Judith Wright who was an Australian poet, environmentalist and campaigner for Aboriginal land rights.

            She was born on 31 May 1925 at Armidale in Australia, and died on 25 June 2000 at Canberra in the same country.

            She is known as ‘the conscience of the nation’ for her commitment to environmental problems and  the movement of Aboriginal land rights.

            However, she is better remembered as a poet who  helped Australia  r her specific identity as a country.

            The Aboriginal land rights movement in Australia was an effort to regain control of traditional lands and resources for Aboriginal peoples who had been dispossessed of their ancestral territories.  Judith Wright played an important role in this movement.

            A half-caste girl means one whose parents are of different races.

            In her poem “Half-caste Girl”which is given below,  Judith Wright explores themes of people’s  identity, their heritage, and the complexities of mixed races.

            The central theme of the poem under reference is the experience of a girl of mixed ancestry.

            Here is the full text of the poem:

 

Little Josie buried under the bright moon

is tired of being dead, death lasts too long.

She would like to push death aside, and stand on the hill

and beat with a waddy on the bright moon like a gong

across the hills, the hills that belong to no people

and so to none are foreign,

Once she climbed high to find the native cherry;

the lithe dark hearted lubra

who in her beads like blood

dressed delicately for love -

moves her long hands among the strings of the wind,

singing the songs of women,

the songs of love and dying.

 

Against the world’s stone walls she thrusts her heart.

Endless the strength of its beating –

atom of flesh that cannot move a stone.

She used her love for lever;

but the wall is cunningly made.

Not even the strong break jail.

So she is restless still under her root warm cover,

hearing the noise of living,

forgetting the pain of dying.

 

Little Josie buried under the bright sun

would like to open her eyes and dance in the light.

Who is it had covered the sun and the beautiful moon

with a wallaby skin, and left her alone in the night?

                             ********

G.R.Kanwal

19 May 2025

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WALT WHITMAN ABOUT GOD

 

WALT WHITMAN ABOUT GOD

            The American poet Walt Whitman (1819-1892) is easy to understand but not easy to categorize like romantic and classical poets. He is unique  ---- extremely original.  

            His collection of poems known as Leaves of Grass is very popular. Whoever reads it is amazed by its ideas as well as poetic style.

            According to the  literary historian Arthur Compton-Rickett (1869-1937)  Whitman is essentially a loafer, a loafer along the crowded streets, a loafer along the  countryside, a loafer both in the spiritual and physical sense ; and his writings are the frankly direct expression of his loafings.  

            Unconventionality he carries out to to its logical conclusion, and strides stark naked among our academies  of learning.

            A strange, uncouth, surprising figure, it is impossible to ignore him, however much he may shock our susceptibilities.

            His songs are no mere paeans of rustic solitudes. They are the songs of the crowded streets, as well as of the country roads; of men and women of every type ---- no less than of the fields and the streams.

            He has no quarrel with civilization as such. The teeming life of the town is as wonderful to him as the big solitude of the Earth.

            In fact, he seeks the elemental everywhere. His business is to make men and women rejoice in ---not shrink from ---the great primal forces of life. But he is not for moralizing:

            “I give nothing as duties.

            What others give as duties I give as loving impulses.

            (Shall I give the heart’s action as a duty?}

           

            What follows is a relevant extract from Whitman’s poem about God:

 

“I have said that the soul is not more than the body,

And I have said that the body is not more than the soul.

And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one’s self is,

And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his funeral drest in his shroud….

 

And I say to mankind,  Be not curious about God,

For I who am curious about each am not curious about God.

(No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about each am not curious about God and about death.)

 

I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least,

Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself.

 

Why should I wish to see God netter than this day?

I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then,

In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass,

I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign’d by God’s name.

And I leave them where they are, for I know that wheresoe’er I go,

Others will punctually come for ever and ever.

                                                            ******

G.R.Kanwal

18 May 2025