Post by dustandwater on Oct 26, 2011 13:25:25 GMT -6
Good day, poets. Apologies for the late introduction this week. I've just started a new job and am now travelling a lot so it's been hard to find time to sit down for long enough to really get my teeth into this. That said, I think this week's form is a particularly interesting one. It's quite different to the forms we've seen so far and probably a little more obscure, too.
Welcome to Week Six.
I came across this week's form while researching Arabic literature. As with Asian poetry, which we have touched on a few times in these sessions, Arabic poetry is extensive in both variety and history. I have chosen the Ghazal this week but may come back to others in the future.
Arabic literature began with and is by far dominated by poetry and most of the forms found throughout its history share their roots with original forms dating all the way back to the dawn of Arabic literature. These ancient poems were often very long and used rigid but simple rhyme-schemes.
The Ghazal is derived from the Qasida and first appeared in the 6th Century, in pre-Islamic Arabia and Persia. As Islam was born and spread, Arabic literature grew with it and the Ghazal, along with other ancient forms, entered new languages and took on new aspects of content.
Originally, the form was dedicated to songs of love, most traditionally unrequited love. It deals with both the pain of loss or distance and the beauty of love, simultaneously. As Islam continued to grow and the forms were introduced around the Arabic peninsula and later, the wider Islamic world, religion and faith became central themes, the subject of the poet's love often being reference to their love of God.
It also became more accessible, with the early Ghazal using complex phrasing and style that could only be understood by the educated elite and more modern writers producing poetry easier to understand and thus easier to learn.
While the Ghazal spread quickly to Persian and Urdu poets and later to other languages across the Middle East, such as Hebrew and Turkish, it took until the late 20th Century for the form to establish itself in English, with many attempts having failed beforehand. Some of those who attempted to Westernise the form include the German poet and philosopher, Geothe, the Spanish poet, Federico Garcia Lorca and the Irish poet, Dan Mangan.
For a truly established English language and Western presence though, we have to thank the New-Delhi poet, Shahid Ali, who migrated to America in the mid-1900s and brought the form with him, compiling the first English language anthology of Ghazals in 1996.
It was through Ali's introduction that the English Ghazal best maintained its ties to the original form, making his attempts more successful than those before him. These were some of the first true-to-form Ghazals written in English and used the same structure, rhyme-scheme and traditions. Generally, English language Ghazals revert to the more traditional content, focussing on themes of unrequited love and painful romantic relationships, as this has generally been better suited to the culture.
Now, let's take a look at how the form works:
The Ghazal is written in couplets. Traditionally very long, ancient Ghazals could have a hundred or more couplets but should contain at least five.
Similar to the lines in the Japanese Gogyohka (sometimes called 'phrases' or 'breaths'), each of these couplets should be able to exist separate from the rest of the poem, with its own sense of theme and context.
These couplets also have no internal rhyme; the form uses a mono-rhyme, which might seem overly simplistic when applied by English language writers but suited the Arabic language well as it only has three distinct vowel sounds.
Mono-rhyme means that a single rhyme runs through the entire poem. With the Ghazal, this rhyme comes from the first couplet, which also introduces a refrain in the final words, but is only referred to on the second line of each consecutive couplet.
There is no fixed metre though within one piece, every line should be the same length.
Finally, traditional Ghazals should include a reference to the poet in the final line.
I realise that that sounds quite complex for what is essentially a rather simple structure so let's take a look at an example.
When you left me I died for you.
When you returned I cried for you.
We stumbled through each darkened room
I always was a guide for you.
I dredged the depths of treachery
when you said no, I lied for you.
I ran the race just for your sake.
With my last breath I sighed for you.
My love demanded more respect
in every way I tried for you.
When your heart cut off all those ties
the tears Winston just dried for you.
Here, you can see that the rhyme comes from 'died' followed by the refrain 'for you'. The first couplet ends both lines with the rhyme and refrain but afterwards, they are only seen on the latter line of each couplet.
Here's mine:
With poison on your lips, you came to me
and your kisses still felt the same to me.
Without saying a word about your wrongs
you cooly passed on all the blame to me
You didn't say a thing of what you'd done
you never planned to say his name to me
You didn't care at all about the truth
just told your lies and showed no shame to me
For you it was about winning but I'm
Dust and Water; love's not a game to me.
**Modified to correct line-length, thanks to FireMonkey's comment.
Are you ready? Set… Go!
Welcome to Week Six.
I came across this week's form while researching Arabic literature. As with Asian poetry, which we have touched on a few times in these sessions, Arabic poetry is extensive in both variety and history. I have chosen the Ghazal this week but may come back to others in the future.
Arabic literature began with and is by far dominated by poetry and most of the forms found throughout its history share their roots with original forms dating all the way back to the dawn of Arabic literature. These ancient poems were often very long and used rigid but simple rhyme-schemes.
The Ghazal is derived from the Qasida and first appeared in the 6th Century, in pre-Islamic Arabia and Persia. As Islam was born and spread, Arabic literature grew with it and the Ghazal, along with other ancient forms, entered new languages and took on new aspects of content.
Originally, the form was dedicated to songs of love, most traditionally unrequited love. It deals with both the pain of loss or distance and the beauty of love, simultaneously. As Islam continued to grow and the forms were introduced around the Arabic peninsula and later, the wider Islamic world, religion and faith became central themes, the subject of the poet's love often being reference to their love of God.
It also became more accessible, with the early Ghazal using complex phrasing and style that could only be understood by the educated elite and more modern writers producing poetry easier to understand and thus easier to learn.
While the Ghazal spread quickly to Persian and Urdu poets and later to other languages across the Middle East, such as Hebrew and Turkish, it took until the late 20th Century for the form to establish itself in English, with many attempts having failed beforehand. Some of those who attempted to Westernise the form include the German poet and philosopher, Geothe, the Spanish poet, Federico Garcia Lorca and the Irish poet, Dan Mangan.
For a truly established English language and Western presence though, we have to thank the New-Delhi poet, Shahid Ali, who migrated to America in the mid-1900s and brought the form with him, compiling the first English language anthology of Ghazals in 1996.
It was through Ali's introduction that the English Ghazal best maintained its ties to the original form, making his attempts more successful than those before him. These were some of the first true-to-form Ghazals written in English and used the same structure, rhyme-scheme and traditions. Generally, English language Ghazals revert to the more traditional content, focussing on themes of unrequited love and painful romantic relationships, as this has generally been better suited to the culture.
Now, let's take a look at how the form works:
The Ghazal is written in couplets. Traditionally very long, ancient Ghazals could have a hundred or more couplets but should contain at least five.
Similar to the lines in the Japanese Gogyohka (sometimes called 'phrases' or 'breaths'), each of these couplets should be able to exist separate from the rest of the poem, with its own sense of theme and context.
These couplets also have no internal rhyme; the form uses a mono-rhyme, which might seem overly simplistic when applied by English language writers but suited the Arabic language well as it only has three distinct vowel sounds.
Mono-rhyme means that a single rhyme runs through the entire poem. With the Ghazal, this rhyme comes from the first couplet, which also introduces a refrain in the final words, but is only referred to on the second line of each consecutive couplet.
There is no fixed metre though within one piece, every line should be the same length.
Finally, traditional Ghazals should include a reference to the poet in the final line.
I realise that that sounds quite complex for what is essentially a rather simple structure so let's take a look at an example.
When you left me I died for you.
When you returned I cried for you.
We stumbled through each darkened room
I always was a guide for you.
I dredged the depths of treachery
when you said no, I lied for you.
I ran the race just for your sake.
With my last breath I sighed for you.
My love demanded more respect
in every way I tried for you.
When your heart cut off all those ties
the tears Winston just dried for you.
Winston Plowes
Here, you can see that the rhyme comes from 'died' followed by the refrain 'for you'. The first couplet ends both lines with the rhyme and refrain but afterwards, they are only seen on the latter line of each couplet.
Here's mine:
With poison on your lips, you came to me
and your kisses still felt the same to me.
Without saying a word about your wrongs
you cooly passed on all the blame to me
You didn't say a thing of what you'd done
you never planned to say his name to me
You didn't care at all about the truth
just told your lies and showed no shame to me
For you it was about winning but I'm
Dust and Water; love's not a game to me.
**Modified to correct line-length, thanks to FireMonkey's comment.
Are you ready? Set… Go!
but I noticed that this is not always done in the modern form [though purists are appalled by that it seems 
]
