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rosa del desierto 3 Apr 2013 00:48

Poets Without Borders
 
Last time I was on the road I found myself writing some poetry. This was on Dec 2012-Jan 2013, from Buenos Aires, Argentina, to Valparaíso, Chile, and back, on my Honda Falcon NX 400. It has been more than 30 years since the time I used to write poetry. It felt so good to write again that I want to share here my new first poem, and also would like to invite you to post any poetic or creative writing that you do in connection with your riding.

I am originally from Spain, and it is more natural for me to write in Spanish. This poem came to life in the beautiful National Park Sierra de las Quijadas, in the province of San Luis, Argentina.

Parque Nacional Sierrra de las Quijadas

El viento ruge entre tus grietas
y el sol es fuego sobre mi espalda.

Un bufido a mi izquierda
me hace dar un respingo.

— ¿Qué fue eso?

Camuflado entre los arbustos
un burro me observa inquisitivo.

Dos burros... tres... cuatro... cinco...
seis... siete... ocho burros
me miran al unísono:

— Y a Ud., ¿qué se le perdió aquí?

Yo no respondo todavía. También los miro.

Orejas levantadas, hocico blanco,
esperan mi respuesta.

Burros salvajes cuyos lomos relucientes
nada saben de cargas ni trabajos.
Son ocho burros haciendo senderismo
por el Parque Nacional Sierra de las Quijadas.

— Bueno, señores burros,
yo también soy una criatura de Dios.

backofbeyond 3 Apr 2013 08:03

Sadly I'll have to leave an appreciation of your efforts to those more fluent in Spanish than I am but the ability to do it rates right up there with me. I recently spent a few months writing 55 thousand words on something that's been a major influence in my life only to subsequently find a poem that says the same thing in six lines - and says it better.

Motorcycle travel poetry - now there's an untapped market!

Senno 3 Apr 2013 13:42

Nice poem.

As it happens I too am a donkey, or feel like one half the time when I'm out riding :)

Socks 4 Apr 2013 23:49

Quote:

Originally Posted by rosa del desierto (Post 417542)
Last time I was on the road I found myself writing some poetry. This was on Dec 2012-Jan 2013, from Buenos Aires, Argentina, to Valparaíso, Chile, and back, on my Honda Falcon NX 400. It has been more than 30 years since the time I used to write poetry. It felt so good to write again that I want to share here my new first poem, and also would like to invite you to post any poetic or creative writing that you do in connection with your riding.

I am originally from Spain, and it is more natural for me to write in Spanish. This poem came to life in the beautiful National Park Sierra de las Quijadas, in the province of San Luis, Argentina.

Parque Nacional Sierrra de las Quijadas

El viento ruge entre tus grietas
y el sol es fuego sobre mi espalda.

Un bufido a mi izquierda
me hace dar un respingo.

— ¿Qué fue eso?

Camuflado entre los arbustos
un burro me observa inquisitivo.

Dos burros... tres... cuatro... cinco...
seis... siete... ocho burros
me miran al unísono:

— Y a Ud., ¿qué se le perdió aquí?

Yo no respondo todavía. También los miro.

Orejas levantadas, hocico blanco,
esperan mi respuesta.

Burros salvajes cuyos lomos relucientes
nada saben de cargas ni trabajos.
Son ocho burros haciendo senderismo
por el Parque Nacional Sierra de las Quijadas.

— Bueno, señores burros,
yo también soy una criatura de Dios.

Thank you, rosa del desierto, would you be so kind to translate, as I'm sure google does it no justice.

and if I might be so bold and you allow me a contribution,

I am also in the jaws of this sierra
Travel with good company
And
May your load be light

rosa del desierto 6 Apr 2013 17:25

Quote:

Originally Posted by backofbeyond (Post 417559)
Sadly I'll have to leave an appreciation of your efforts to those more fluent in Spanish than I am but the ability to do it rates right up there with me. I recently spent a few months writing 55 thousand words on something that's been a major influence in my life only to subsequently find a poem that says the same thing in six lines - and says it better.

Motorcycle travel poetry - now there's an untapped market!

Backofbeyond, would you like to share with us that "six line poem"?

rosa del desierto 6 Apr 2013 22:49

Quote:

Originally Posted by Socks (Post 417761)
Thank you, rosa del desierto, would you be so kind to translate, as I'm sure google does it no justice.

and if I might be so bold and you allow me a contribution,

I am also in the jaws of this sierra
Travel with good company
And
May your load be light

Thank you Socks for your poem. The translation of mine goes more or less like this:


The wind growls between your crevasse
and the sun is like fire on my back.

A snort from my left
makes me jump.

What was that?

Camouflaged in among the bushes
a donkey observes me inquisitively.

Two donkeys… three…four… five…
Six…seven…eight… donkeys stare at me
in unison:

— And you? What are you doing here?

I do not answer yet. I stare at them too.

Ears up, eight white noses
await my answer.

Wild donkeys whose shinny backs
know nothing of heavy loads or hard work.
They are eight donkeys trekking
In the Sierra de las Quijadas National Park.

— Well, dear Donkeys
I am also a creature of God.

xfiltrate 14 Apr 2013 04:41

Set Your Spirit Free
 
1 Attachment(s)
Know all ye who travel here:

That is a 1968 CD 175 Honda and my Costa Rican novia
In 1968 I rode that bike from San Jose Costa Rica to Los Angeles....
any questions?


Set Your Spirit Free

I am not my thoughts
For my thoughts are caught
In words and memories
That brought me to my knees.

I am not what I do
For that has been caught too
In love and fear and money
Funny.

My life began
With a belief
I am a spirit
Bound to be free.

Einstein was right
Our bondage is tight
It is lies we see
Through our eyes.

The truth is in sight
But the light so bright
I close my eyes
To see you, to see me.

I stopped thinking
And the truth
Set me free.

A spirit set free
I can be me
I can just be
Set your spirit free.

Copyright 1979 "xfiltrate" All rights reserved

An award winning poem
Photo: Puerto Limon, CR by xfiltrate (cerca 1968)

Senno 15 Apr 2013 15:04

^^Where can I get some of those boots? ;)

xfiltrate 15 Apr 2013 23:29

Soul verses Sole....
 
SOUL VERSES SOLE......Brilliant, Senno

Your "boots" comment is precisely the reason I continue to read and post on the Hubb Pub.

The profundity of your "boots" comment has been realized, fathomed, and appreciated. Thank you so very much for contributing to my faith in humanity.

Perhaps you could contribute a poem?

eat, drink a lot, and be careful

Senno 16 Apr 2013 14:24

Ha thanks for the reply xfiltrate. Not sure if the world is ready for my introspective, maudlin poetic musings :stormy::blushing:

It's a great photo anyway, did you take it?

xfiltrate 17 Apr 2013 02:49

We are ready
 
1 Attachment(s)
Oh Senno, do share.....

Yeah, I took the photo and I also took 8 burros (next post) about the same time rosa del desierto was writing her poem (also posted on this tread)
Parque Nacional Sierrra de las Quijadas

I also took this one of my Grandma astride (side saddle) my BSA Bantam Major -(cerca 1962) the bike is a lot older..... my second motorcycle the Honda purchased in Costa Rica and featured with my poem this tread was my third motorcycle.... : enjoy although I come from a long line of "bikers" not all of them can ride side saddle....
only Grandma

xfiltrate 17 Apr 2013 03:02

Parque Nacional Sierrra de las Quijadas
 
1 Attachment(s)
8 burros

McCrankpin 17 Apr 2013 21:11

Nice poetry here! Goes well with the beer

Well, I'm tempted to have a go. I think this is a 'safe' pub!

Anyone ever played around with Haiku?
I have, and found it can lead to interesting results (for me) when applied to a journey.
So here goes -

Four verses covering a single journey.
(This may be against the 'rules'. I think the idea is to compose a single Haiku to describe the whole thing that you're trying to convey. But I may be wrong).

Two wheels on the Dover road.
No map nor G P S.
Lost in summer.

Cross many borders Southwards.
People - ever different. Nice!
"Welcome!"

Bend ahead comes quickly.
Beyond is hidden
Lush green valley - sunshine.

Tyres roll on stones now.
Halt at oceans' edge.
Wind. Sea. Horizon. End.


So, going to the other extreme, I'll try one to convey two journeys. An earlier journey followed by the one above:

North cape, midnight sun.
Two Continents. Five seasons.
Southern Cape. Two oceans.


I like the photos too. :thumbup1:

Senno 17 Apr 2013 23:11

^^Nice! Though they're not strictly haikus in the traditional sense, but nicely evocative nonetheless :mchappy:

xfiltrate 18 Apr 2013 17:14

Playing around ...
 
Playing around is good.

Top Honors McCrankpin bier

Your reality might be whizzing 5 feet above and directly behind Senno, but it is real. Being 3 feet behind your head is also real.

eat, drink a lot more and be careful


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