Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Trespassing, Ex-Boyfriends, and Bad Directions: Poetry

Reading and struggling to interpret famous poetry, I've come to the conclusion that complex poetry needs to be translated into modern circumstance and language. So, for you understanding, here are three famous poems, updated.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Trespassing on a Freezing Day                               Translated by Hannah Hoo
I think I know whose backwoods I’m trespassing in,
But it’s ok because his house is near town
So he (probably) won't catch me
Taking my dog on a bathroom break in the snow.
My dog must think it’s weird
Being out here without any people or places around
We passed the trees but haven't gotten past the lake yet
Boy, I hate that daylight saving time.

His dog collar tags clink,
that dumb dog looks so confused.
Pretty quiet out here
Except for this bleeping cold blizzard.
It ain't to bad out here, 
But "Days of Our Lives" is on in half an hour,
and I’ve got a ways to walk before I can fall asleep on the sofa
my cushy, worn-in sofa. 

Ozymandias of Egypt 
by Percy Bysshe Shelley 

I met a traveller from an antique land 
Who said:—Two vast and trunkless legs of stone 
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand, 
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown 
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command 
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read 
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things, 
The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed. 
And on the pedestal these words appear: 
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: 
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!" 
Nothing beside remains: round the decay 
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, 
The lone and level sands stretch far away. 

"Meet Me By That One Statue!"
Translated by Hannah Hoo

I met this tourist in Egypt
He told me to meet him by the statue with the huge calves of stone
Said its in the desert, "Near the sand". Wow, helpful.
Half in the sand with a busted up face, frowning obviously,
what statue wouldn't have wrinkly lips and a cold sneer after being beat up?
The sculptor must have had a great grasp of the obvious,
You can see it in the lifeless statue.
What a stupid idea for a meeting place.
The tourist says the statue's nametag reads "Hello! My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!"
Apparently its in the middle of nowhere
Just the hunk of bare stone
Alone in the sand.

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud by William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

I'm So Lonely Ever Since My Boyfriend Broke Up With Me
Translated by Hannah Hoo

I walk around with no purpose, like a stupid fluffy cloud
Raining over everyone's parades.
I see a group of cute guys
Playing tackle football under a tree near the lake in the park
Jumping and smashing each other

Gosh, they were fit
Their eyes even twinkled, like in movies
It seemed like a never ending line of pulchritudinous college boys
Haha, that one almost got pushed into the lake
There must be thousands of them
Leaping after the football

I think even the lake has a crush on them
And the trees are crying leaves the guys are so attractive
Even a poet would go gay
After watching them play football!
I drooled, watching them like a mindless zombie
They should charge admission to this park.

When I go home and fling my broken heart on the couch
Depressed about my failed love
I'll just think about those guys
And i'll turn off my phone and ignore the world.
For a while I can forget my ex and be happy,
and remember that there are more fish in the sea. 

All the Worlds a Blog,


  1. Oh Hannah, I feel the pain of that last poem. Last is always best, and my you have gotten much better at poetry! :)

  2. Gerard Manley Hopkins is the boss!