The English Studio recently ran a poetry competition for its students in which we asked them to celebrate our great capital city and we were bowled over by the results!
The winner was Carlos Martinez for this poetic tour de force…
Do not tell me London is cold, do not tell me London is grey,
Do not tell me that in London one has four seasons in one day.
Don’t you see that weather
Is but passing clouds and fleeting shades?
Don’t you see that apart from packed roads and tubes,
In the city there’re so many different ways?
O, dear sirs and ladies, silence for a moment your furious and traditional complaints,
Please don’t mind if there is snow or traffic, please don’t mind if out it rains:
It is from the tears of the skies that the roses of the summer shall rise bold and bright,
And even in the darker our of winter, London will glitter with its splendid inner light.
I beg you, briefly listen to me; if you would, I would be so happy a man,
Perhaps my experiences might be a touchstone, perhaps a magic wand
That could eventually influence and chance any bad opinion of London you may have,
I’d be perfectly delighted if, to the mundane things of London, I could turn you a bit nonchalant.
Once, a beautiful dream came to me
Sprinkling my soul with dazzling visions,
Like stars in a dark and lonely night,
Visions of a land sheltered by the divine pinions
Of the most sublime spirits of the arts;
Visions of a nacar-coloured city,
With a river, and a big device to measure time,
A city teeming with dwellings for the muses,
And with
Green and
Hyden parks.
But then it came the dawn
And I woke up from my reveries and my dreams
Thinking that upon this earth such a place could not exist…
Thinking that it was just an illusion, caused by the first sunbeams
Reflected and blended in my heart’s perennial mist.
What an astonishing surprise! What quiver in my chest!
When I found thee, dreamlike London, crowning majestically the Thames.
And when within thee I found Oscar Wilde/Dorian Gray,
So witty, provocative, and delightful a chap
And when I found William Turner,
In the core of Britain, hanging beside Claude Lorrain*.
And I found John Keats, O, indeed my master, as lofty as Hampstead Heath**
And when I found all the lovely friends I have met, and those I’m yet to meet.
The most moving tears have welled my eyes,
And the most evocative emotions have made me shudder,
admiring the everlasting new sunrise
of the divine Greece, Rome, Egypt, revived by England, as I have discovered.
But don’t let me grow too exalted, or I’ll be carried away,
I could keep praising London for pages and pages, and for many four-season-in-one-days.
However, there were some brilliant runners up, like Ana Maria Blanco…..
HELP!
The first time I’ve heard about England was not in Geography classes at Primary School. England was the country where The Beatles came from.
My second encounter with England was because of my brothers’ English teacher who used to wear a jacket with elbows patches.
Then, England started to mean more and more to me: Not only The Queen but also Queen, one of the most amazing bands on Earth (apart from The Beatles of course). Not only the cup of tea, the rainy days, the Big Ben, the red telephone cabins and the double-decker busses, but also The Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, Sex Pistols and their punk subculture, David Bowie and glam rock, Depeche Mode, Radiohead…
Eight months ago -after ten years of hard work- I had the opportunity to choose a place where to spend a well-deserved sabbatical year: London!
Today it’s too sad for me to know that there are no more than four months to go until I get back to routine. My time in London is running out and there are still so many gigs to see, so many places to go, so many things to do!
Now I just have to say that it’s hard to realize that time goes fast. It’s so hard to make good things last.
Help me If you can, I’m feeling down…
Ana María Blanco.
And this little gem from Nazife Imeri…
I arrived.
I started to breath, to walk, to run.
I stopped, closed my eyes and turned in a circle.
I stopped.
I tried to listen.
Many different languages, but one which all understand.
I opened my eyes – many different skin colors – just multicultural.
I continued to run.
I stopped, closed my eyes and turned in a circle.
I stopped.
I listen to the roar of the river, full of brown water.
I smell the fresh air, after several days of rain.
My feet are wet, I would like to fly.
I hear the bells of the church, playing their own music. The prince got married.
I continued to run.
I stopped, closed my eyes and turned in a circle.
I stopped.
Neon lights, many people, dead animals in the shop windows, many different smells.
China Town – I’m lost in translation.
I continued to run.
I arrived in my room – space the big city out.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep, tired of all these impressions.
A new day, the same play.
Nazife Imeri
