Oysa herkes öldürür sevdiğini,
Bunu böyle bilin,
Kimi hazin bir bakışla öldürür,
Kimi latif bir sözle,
Korkaklar öperek öldürür,
Yürekliler kılıç darbeleriyle!

Detaylı yorum şurada.

Wilde narra la historia de un hombre que termina en prisión, luego de asesinar a su esposa y esta esperando su muerte.

El poema también hace fuertes críticas al sistema penitenciario de la época mientras que al mismo tiempo nos cuenta un poco de su vida dentro de ella.

Wilde usa este poema como medio de desahogo sobre su tiempo en prisión, como deshumanizan a los presos y como esto indudablemente termina afectandolo
Por lo que se, es el último poema que publicó antes de su muerte

Tengo que aclarar que no soy de leer poemas o poesía. Solo decidí leerlo porque es de Wilde y me gusta su forma de escribir. Tambien admito que no analize el poema en toda su totalidad como suelo hacer con los libros, pero para eso están las relecturas y este va a seguir el mismo camino.

Se que hay un verso popular en el poema. Pero el que mas me gusto a mi fue

n  “Enceguecen el sol con rejas
y con barras afean la luna;
y es bueno que escondan su infierno
para que jamás se descubran
las cosas que ni Dios ni el hombre
deberían contemplar nunca.”n

Me ha "decepcionado" un poco. Pensé que me iba a gustar más. Pero creo que ha sido porque la lectura en inglés ha sido un poco difícil para mí, y porque la traducción al castellano no me ha gustado.

Pero hay cosas que sí me han gustado.
-Lo primero estas dos líneas de la balada (no creo que las vaya a olvidar):
porque quien vive más de una vida
debe morir más de una muerte


-Y también lo que transmite el poema: dureza, crudeza, dolor, tristeza, soledad.

(La balada parte de un hecho real, el ahorcamiento de Charles T. Wooldridge, reo por el asesinato de su amante. Wilde destaca que, pese a lo horrendo del crimen, la prisión y el posterior ajusticiamiento de no es menos brutal. Los sentimientos, tanto del autor como del resto de reclusos ante la muerte de un compañero, se van desvelando a lo largo del poema que huye del trágico episodio para darle validez universal.)

Superb.

Yazılışından 120 yıl sonra okudum acıklı Reading Zindanı Baladı'nı. Hala hüzün kokuyor Wilde'ın satırları.

A very sad and depressing read... :(
I had a feeling that the language and especially the metaphors escalated toward the end.

It was exquisite.

It was a great poem , I like it :) !
This is a link to read it
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/ba...

It is sweet to dance to violins
When Love and Life are fair:
To dance to flutes, to dance to lutes
Is delicate and rare:
But it is not sweet with nimble feet
To dance upon the air!

Like two doomed ships that pass in storm
We had crossed each other’s way:
But we made no sign, we said no word,
We had no word to say;
For we did not meet in the holy night,
But in the shameful day.

Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.

For oak and elm have pleasant leaves
That in the spring-time shoot:
But grim to see is the gallows-tree,
With its adder-bitten root,
And, green or dry, a man must die
Before it bears its fruit!
The loftiest place is that seat of grace
For which all worldlings try:
But who would stand in hempen band
Upon a scaffold high,
And through a murderer’s collar take
His last look at the sky?

And all men kill the thing they love,
By all let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Estaba leyendo "Oscar Wilde y yo" cuando empecé un capítulo en el que Bosie hablaría de este poema. Bueno, vamos a leerlo antes de seguir... Hasta el sol de hoy, Oscar nunca me ha defraudado. Tampoco lo hizo esta vez. Con aparente simpleza, es un poema oscuro y profundo. Se lee fácil, rápido, y no por eso se le quita mérito.
O.W. do it again.

El maravilloso genio de la literatura y de la vida, Oscar Wilde.

Según tengo entendido, estos escritos se los dedicó a un amigo que conoció en la cárcel y fue ejecutado. Dentro de esta obra maestra encontrarás desolación y el retrato mismo del infierno que vivió nuestro autor al pasar dos años en la cárcel realizando trabajos forzados.

RECOMENDADÍSIMO.

"I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by."
My heart aches for him. A man most witty, talented, and intelligent with a sensitive soul of pure gold, sitting in a dark cell, having his life sucked out of him by hard labor and his eventual illness. The world is a rotten place.

Ahhhhhhhhh!!! Okay. I know I just talked about Wilde's poems but this one over here is on an entirely different level. Would give it ten stars if I could. It is an absolute masterpiece, he is an absolute masterpiece, made me shed some tears here and there (that might be because I truly love the man with a burning passion but never-mind that), raised every hair on my skin.

So a little bit of context for those who might need it:
Oscar Wilde, "glamorous and notorious, more famous as a playwright or prisoner than as a poet", (creds to the blurb) wrote this poem, "The Ballad of Reading Gaol" (Reading Gaol, UK, was the prison in which Wilde stayed during his two year sentence, convicted for his homosexuality), about the execution of another inmate. It consists of 109 stanzas, in case anyone (if anyone is reading this at all) was wondering.

I don't want to give too much away so I'll stop there. Read it for yourselves! The poem, in essence, is a very Wilde ride.

I'll just jump straight to the extracts (shocker!). Keep in mind that quotes are much nicer when you read them within the text and often lose substance when ripped out of their context. Of course I'll leave some out, or else I'd be spoiling the poem for everyone.

"I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky."

[...]

"Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold."

[...]

"But we made no sign, we said no word,
We had no word to say;
For we did not meet in the holy night,
But in the shameful day."

[...]

"And the wild regrets, and the bloody sweats
None knew so well as I:
For he who lives more lives than one
More deaths than one must die."

[...]

"No need to waste the foolish tear,
Or heave the windy sigh:
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.

And all men kill the thing they love,
By all let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!"

I'll stop. Thank you Oscar, you bring music to my soul.

((Oh god, how cheesy. But wait! It actually reminds me of another excerpt, from a different poem of his. Somebody save me. It's from "To L.L" (Lillie Langtry, a friend of his) and it goes:

"Well, if my heart must break,
Dear love, for your sake,
It will break in music, I know,
Poets' hearts break so."

))

So much love for you, Wilde. So much love. I'm not usually this sappy but I'm not used to all the emotions your words make me feel and the way they resonate within me either! So there.

For he who lives more lives than one
More deaths than one must die.

Harrowing as the content of the poem is, and the experience that caused it, the poem's ballad form makes for almost incongruously light reading. The overall effect is mildly grotesque, and therefore, perhaps, quite successful in jangling the nerves of the reader.