"Song" by Allen Ginsberg was one of my favorite pieces of poetry I've read this week because of its simple expression of an emotion- love- that takes the reader through an evolving story, while writing in accessible language. Sometimes we couch poetry in beautiful, complicated words that make your eyes cross and your head ache. Ginsberg doesn't give me a headache, but he reminds me of the weight of love and, in a way, the weight of caring. "Song" tells the reader that love is our Big Bang and our weight to bear. We were made from love, and we carry the responsibility to love and hope for love in return. Eventually, as the poem tells us, we will end up waiting for the burden of love to fall from our shoulders as our souls (hopefully) crawl back from where they came from. Until then, our burden is to care, because we are made from love and by love. I tack on the weight of caring as well, for love causes the action of caring, for ourselves and for others. Perhaps our purpose in life is to care- and at essential times, to love. I'll be thinking about that as the quarter progresses. "Song" is below.
SONG
The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction
the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.
the weight we carry
is love.
Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human--
looks out of the heart
burning with purity--
for the burden of life
is love,
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human--
looks out of the heart
burning with purity--
for the burden of life
is love,
but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.
No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love--
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
--cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love--
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
--cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:
the weight is too heavy
--must give
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.
The warm bodies
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye--
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye--
yes, yes,
that's what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.
that's what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.
Selina -
ReplyDeleteCongrats on making the first blog post! Great job embedding video, but the formatting of the lyrics need some work. If you're going to copy and paste from another website (which is totally fine), be to "paste and match style" into your post, to be sure that everything is legible for blog viewers - so always double check your final product of your blog post and re-edit if need be. I'm interested in how you perceive notions of love to be associated with forms of social justice, which have always been part of Ginsberg's project as a poet? What has to happen to move a reader from eros (love for a particular person) to caritas (love for the community)?