Do you think reciting poetry is outdated or ridiculous ?

If you have been following my blog for a little while, you surely know by now that I'm quite besotted with Monchéri. He's my best friend, my best source of inspiration, he's very generous, he makes me laugh, he can be very moody but it doesn't last and all my girlfriends love him too...well...in a reasonable way of course. One of the little things I like about him is his ability to suddenly recite verses in a very exuberant way. It doesn't happen often but when it does, I clap my hands and laugh with delight.
I think I should read more poetry, at least get familiar with the work of Rafael Alberti (a contemporary of Federico Garcia Lorca).

When I was at at school, it was common practice to learn by heart poems of Ronsard, Arthur Rimbaud, Verlaine, Baudelaire etc..My mother would make sure I memorized each verse and recite in a proper tone. "Tu dois ressentir ce que dit le poète" (you must feel what the poet says) she used to tell me.

Last tuesday, as we were driving through the valley on a country road which leads to the coast, suddenly the sea was there, right in front us, so blue and unexpected....I kept saying "que maravilla, que belleza..." (how wonderful, how beautiful). Monchéri laughed because it seemed I was seeing the sea for the first time in my life. I laughed too and took a serious air before shouting these verses of Baudelaire :

Homme libre toujours tu chériras la mer
La mer est ton miroir ; tu contemples ton âme
Dans le déroulement infini de sa lame

Free man, you will always cherish the sea
The sea is your mirror ; you contemplate your soul
In the infinite rolling of its waves

(translation by Cat Nilan)

Funny how our memory stores lines or verses which had been learnt zillions years ago..

I think we will go to the beach this sunday, to enjoy a bit of fresh air, the sight of children playing with the waves and the smell of fresh grilled sardins.....

I leave you with the first strophe of a poem of one of my favorite poets, Saint-John Perse. It is extracted from Eloges (Praises) -1911. Don't ask me why but this poem to me is the very image of an exotic summer. I love reading it aloud. I love its sensual tone. It also evokes sweet memories of the year I spent at UVa, (University of Virginia) as an exchange student many years ago. The French literature department organized a poetry reading and I chose to recite this poem.

Les viandes grillent en plein vent, les sauces se composent
et la fumée remonte les chemins à vif et rejoint qui marchait.
Alors le Songeur aux joues sales
se tire
d'un vieux songe tout rayé de violences, de ruses et d'éclats,
et orné de sueurs, vers l'odeur de la viande
il descend
comme une femme qui traîne: ses toiles, tout son ligne et ses cheveux défaits

Meats broil in the open air, sauces are brewing
and the smoke goes up the raw paths and overtakes someone walking.
Then the Dreamer with dirty cheeks
comes slowly out of
an old dream all streaked with violences, wiles and splendour,
and jewelled in sweat, toward the odour of meat
he descends
like a woman trailing: her linen, all her clothes, and her
hanging hair

(translation by Louise Varèse - she made such a super job of capturing and translating the exact tone of Saint-John Perse, the English translation is as enjoyable as the original text)

I wish you a wonderful week end

Be dreamy, be poetic !