One of the most ghastliest Midsummer Nights I ever have undergone

Titania and Bottom [Henry Fuseli (1790]. Based on Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream - [to be sure it was not a funny or even a strange dream but a macabre nightmare this time].
*
[Kielimafian korjauksia lukuun 1 + youtube- ja linkkilisäys klo: 14.40]

1
Oscar Wilden komea runo [josta siteeraan vain osia] on liian etäisellä tavalla paatoksellinen tapahtuneeseen ja sen aiheuttamaan shokkitunteeseen nähden, mutta silti on pakko myöntää, että se uskaltaa avata olennaisen näkökulman hätkähdyttävään ja pelottavaankin tosiasiaan, joka paljastaa, miten sairaan kipeäksi, traumaattiseksi ja pään sekoittavaksi asiaksi ihastus, rakastaminen ja lopulta aggressio [affektien kaaos] voi ainakin nuoren miehen psyykelle muodostua - aina katastrofiin asti ['jollei mies osaa muuta, niin se puukottaa, puukottaa, ei osaa muutakaan' - (ks. youtube-linkit)].

2
The Ballad of Reading Gaol
by
Oscar Wilde

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby grey;
A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by.

I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
"That fellows got to swing."

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.

I only knew what hunted thought
Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved
And so he had to die.
........
Yet each man kills the thing he loves
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.

3
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENNMLcAfFOA
Markku Blomqvist - Liehuva liekinvarsi

4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=meRPEweui0M
WÄRTZILÄ - Liehuva liekinvarsi - [suomalainen raskaan rockin trio on tehnyt toimivan coverin vanhasta klassikosta].
*
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Midsummer_Night's_Dream
http://fi.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kes%C3%A4y%C3%B6n_unelma
http://omakaupunki.hs.fi/paakaupunkiseutu/uutiset/18-vuotias_kuoli_kotibileissa_puukotukseen/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Ballad_of_Reading_Gaol
http://actuspurunen.blogspot.com/2008/08/balladi-readingin-vankilasta.html
http://redelephant.wordpress.com/2006/02/

Balladi Readingin vankilasta

The Ballad of Reading Gaol
by
Oscar Wilde

I.
He did not wear his scarlet coat,

For blood and wine are red,

And blood and wine were on his hands

When they found him with the dead,

The poor dead woman whom he loved,

And murdered in her bed.


He walked amongst the Trial Men

In a suit of shabby grey;

A cricket cap was on his head,

And his step seemed light and gay;

But I never saw a man who looked

So wistfully at the day.


I never saw a man who looked

With such a wistful eye

Upon that little tent of blue

Which prisoners call the sky,

And at every drifting cloud that went

With sails of silver by.


I walked, with other souls in pain,

Within another ring,

And was wondering if the man had done

A great or little thing,

When a voice behind me whispered low,

"That fellows got to swing."


Dear Christ! the very prison walls

Suddenly seemed to reel,

And the sky above my head became

Like a casque of scorching steel;

And, though I was a soul in pain,

My pain I could not feel.


I only knew what hunted thought

Quickened his step, and why

He looked upon the garish day

With such a wistful eye;

The man had killed the thing he loved

And so he had to die.

___

Yet each man kills the thing he loves

By each let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word,

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man with a sword!


Some kill their love when they are young,

And some when they are old;

Some strangle with the hands of Lust,

Some with the hands of Gold:

The kindest use a knife, because

The dead so soon grow cold.


Some love too little, some too long,

Some sell, and others buy;

Some do the deed with many tears,

And some without a sigh:

For each man kills the thing he loves,

Yet each man does not die.

___

Ote pitkän runon ensimmäisestä kappaleesta. Loppuosa löytyy alla olevasta linkistä.

emotionalliteracyeducation.com/classic_books_online/rgaol10.htm

http://fi.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oscar_Wilde