Showing posts with label Joan Maragall i Gorina. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joan Maragall i Gorina. Show all posts

Monday, 28 May 2018

SAYING GOODBYE TO THE JONES: NO SURRENDER!

The Grandma & The Broom, Sant Boi de Llobregat
After buying a new house in Zarautz for The Jones, The Grandma is thinking about her own future again. Last Saturday, when she was in Sant Boi with her families, she remembered her childhood. Sant Boi was an important place for her when she was a child, first, and a teenager, later. She spent the most unforgettable moments of her life in this city with many loved friends. 

It was when she was arriving to her appointment with her families that she crossed a beautiful little forest full of broom and, suddenly, all the memories returned like if all of them were the real life. She remembers Marianao Park, the Montbaig range, Sant Ramon Mountain, the Ateneu, the almond trees, the cherry trees, the rosemary, the carob trees, the lignum trees...

Now say: "The broom tree blooms,
everywhere the fields are red with poppies.
With new scythes we'll thresh
the ripened wheat and weeds."

The Grandma has considered these memories as a message. She must continue her searching of happiness and she has decided to search Corto Maltese, the man who stole her heart some decades ago and one day disappeared in Stonehenge. The Grandma hasn't got news since that moment and although she has never stopped the searching, she thinks that perhaps she was taking a wrong path. If Corto Maltese was born in Malta, perhaps she must start to search in this Mediterranean island. This is the reason because of The Grandma is going to travel to Malta to find her old friend.

Ah, young lips parting after dark, 
if you only knew how dawn 
delayed us, how long we had to wait 
for light to rise in the gloom!

The Jones are going to continue with their lifes. The Grandma is totally sure that they are going to be happy, find good jobs and enjoy their new families without forgetting this one, because, whatever happens, they will be always a Jones and they are predestined to write great pages in our history.

Good Luck, Dear Jones and No Surrender!

The Grandma & The Broom, Sant Boi de Llobregat
The broom is considered the national plant in Catalonia because two of its most important poets have written about it: Joan Maragall and Salvador Espriu. These poems are considered vital messages of hope about future, resistance about difficulties, faith in changes and the deep desire of surviving as a culture. To sum up, broom is a symbol of no surrender.

Genisteae is a tribe of trees, shrubs and herbaceous plants in the subfamily Faboideae of the legume family Fabaceae. It includes a number of well-known plants including broom, lupine (lupin), gorse and laburnum.

The tribe's greatest diversity is in the Mediterranean, and most genera are native to Europe, Africa, the Canary Islands, India and southwest Asia. However, the largest genus, Lupinus, is most diverse in North and South America. Anarthrophytum and Sellocharis are also South American and Aryrolobium ranges into India.

But we have lived to save your words, 
to return you the name of every thing, 
so that you'd stay on the straight path 
that leads to the mastery of earth.

The Genisteae arose 32.3 ± 2.9 million years ago in the Oligocene. The members of this tribe consistently form a monophyletic clade in molecular phylogenetic analyses. The tribe does not currently have a node-based definition, but several morphological synapomorphies have been identified.

The Grandma and The Fennel, Sant Boi de Llobregat
Brooms tolerate, and often thrive best in, poor soils and growing conditions. 

In cultivation they need little care, though they need good drainage and perform poorly on wet soils. 

They are widely used as ornamental landscape plants and also for wasteland reclamation, e.g. mine tailings, and sand dune stabilising. Many of the most popular brooms in gardens are hybrids, notably Kew broom and Warminster broom.

We looked beyond the desert, 
plumbed the depth of our dreams, 
turned dry cisterns into peaks 
scaled by the long steps of time.

The Plantagenet kings used common broom, known as planta genista in Latin, as an emblem and took their name from it. It was originally the emblem of Geoffrey of Anjou, father of Henry II of England. Wild broom is still common in dry habitats around Anjou, France.

Charles V and his son Charles VI of France used the pod of the broom plant, broom-cod, or cosse de geneste, as an emblem for livery collars and badges.

The flower buds and flowers of Cytisus scoparius have been used as a salad ingredient, raw or pickled, and were a popular ingredient for salmagundi or grand sallet during the 17th and 18th century. There are now concerns about the toxicity of broom, with potential effects on the heart and problems during pregnancy.

Now say: "We hear the voices 
of the wind on the high sea of crested grain." 
Now say: "We shall be ever faithful 
to the people of this land." - Salvador Espriu


We made a promise we swore we'd always remember:
No retreat, baby, no surrender.

Bruce Springsteen

Monday, 21 August 2017

JOAN MARAGALL: "NOVA ODA A BARCELONA" (1911)

Joan Maragall
Joan Maragall i Gorina (10 October 1860-20 December 1911) was a Catalan poet, journalist and translator, the foremost member of the modernisme movement in literature. His manuscripts are preserved in the Joan Maragall Archive of Barcelona.

Maragall's upper-class family was dedicated to the flourishing textile industry in Barcelona, and after finishing school, Joan Maragall took on his father's job. Having never liked his family's trade, he decided to go to university instead, where he studied law to his father's great disappointment.

However, he dropped out of school and married Clara Noble with whom he had 13 children. In 1904 he won all three prizes awarded by the Jocs Florals in Barcelona, and was proclaimed Mestre en Gai Saber. His private home in Sant Gervasi was bought by the Biblioteca de Catalunya and can be visited.

More information: UOC

The Grandma in Plaça del Rei, Barcelona
Maragall's poetry was based on themes drawn from human life and nature. 

Highly influenced by German-language authors such as Nietzsche, Novalis and Goethe, all of which he translated into Catalan, his poetry went through decadentist and vitalist periods. 

He is best known for his 'theory of the living word', or teoria de la paraula viva, which advocated Nietzschean vitalism and spontaneous or even imperfect writing over colder and over-thought poetry.


In addition to his poetry writing, Maragall published journalism in avant-garde magazines of the time, including L'Avenç, Catalònia and Luz, where he became the leading proponent of Catalan modernisme.

-On te’n vas, Barcelona, esperit català
que has vençut la carena i has saltat ja la tanca
i te’n vas dret enfora amb tes cases disperses,
lo mateix que embriagada de tan gran llibertat?
-Veig allà el Pirineu amb ses neus somrosades,
i al davant Catalunya tota estesa als seus peus,
i me’n vaig... És l’amor qui m’empeny cap enfora,
i me’n vaig delirant amb els braços oberts.

-Oh! detura’t un punt! Mira el mar, Barcelona,
com té faixa de blau fins al baix horitzó,
els poblets blanquejant tot al llarg de la costa,
que se’n van plens de sol vorejant la blavor.

I tu fuges del mar?...

                          -Vinc del mar i l’estimo,
i he pujat aquí dalt per mirar-lo millor,
i me’n vaig i no em moc: sols estenc els meus braços
perquè vull Catalunya tota a dintre el meu cor.

-Altra mar veus enllà, encrespada i immòbil,
de les serres que riuen al sol dolçament:
per copsar tanta terra i tanta mar, Barcelona,
ja et caldrà un pit ben gran, amb uns braços ben ferms.

-Com més terra i més mar, i més pobles obiro,
a mesura d’amor el meu pit s’engrandeix,
i me sento una força que abans no tenia,
i sóc tan tota una altra que fins jo em desconec.

­-Corre enllà, corre enllà, corre enllà, Barcelona,
que ja et cal esser una altra per ésser la que deus;
perquè ets alta i airosa i fas molta planta,
però bé et falta encara molt més del que tens.

Ets covarda, i crudel i grollera,
Barcelona, però ets riallera
perquè tens un bell cel al damunt;
vanitosa arrauxada i traçuda:
ets una menestrala pervinguda
que ho fa tot per punt.

Alces molts gallarets i penons i oriflames,
molts llorers, moltes palmes,
banderes a l’aire i domassos al sol,
i remous a grans crits tes espesses gentades,
per qualsevulga cosa acorruades
entorn de qualsevol.

Mes, passada l’estona i el dia i la rauxa
i el vent de disbauxa, de tot te desdius;
i abandones la vida i la glòria i l’empresa
i despulles el gran de grandesa.

I encara te’n rius.

Te presums i engavanyes alhora
amb manto de monja i vestit de senyora
i vel de la musa i floc relluent;
pro mudes de pressa, i amb gran gosadia
la musa i la nimfa i la dama i la pia
s’arrenca el postís i la veu disfressada,
i surt la marmanyera endiablada
que empaita la monja i li crema el convent...
I després el refàs més potent!

Esclata la mort de tes vies rialleres
en l’aire suau:
esclata impensada, i segura i traïdora
com altra riallada escarnidora...
Riallades de sang!

El fang dels teus carrers, oh Barcelona!
és pastat amb sang.

I tens dreta en la mar la muntanya, ai! que venja
amb son castell al cim, i amb la revenja
mes ai! en el flanc!

Tens aquesta rambla que és una hermosura...
i tens la dolçura dels teus arravals,
on tan prop de tes vies sonores
i al mig de les boires del fum i ses marques
camps de blat en la pau dels patriarques
maduren lentament els fruits anyals.

I allí, a quatre passes, febrosa de sobres,
més ampla que l’altra, la Rambla dels pobres
tremola en la fosca ses llums infernals.

Pro ni el baf ni la pols de tos llots i desferres,
ni el pals i filferres
que t’armen a sobre la gran teranyina,
ni el fumar de tes mil xemeneies,
ni el flam de les teies
que mou la discòrdia i abranden l’incendi
són bastants a posar vilipendi
an aquest cel que tens tan dolç i blau
que tot s’ho empassa i resol i canvia,
i ho torna en oblit i consol i alegria:
mil cops la perdesses,
mil cops més tornaria a tu la pau.

A la part de Llevant, místic exemple,
com una flor gegant floreix un temple
meravellat d’haver nascut aquí,
entremig d’una gent tan sorruda i dolenta
que se’n riu i flastoma i es baralla i s’esventa
contra tot lo humà i lo diví.

Mes, enmig la misèria i la ràbia i fumera,
el temple (tant se val!) s’alça i prospera
esperant uns fidels que han de venir.

Tal com ets, tal te vull, ciutat mala:
és com un mal donat, de tu s’exhala:
que ets vana i coquina i traïdora i grollera,
que ens fa abaixa el rostre
Barcelona! i amb tos pecats, nostra! nostra!
Barcelona nostra! la gran encisera! 


A native man sang in a foreign tongue,
I still ache to know the song that he sung,
Barcelona.
 
George Ezra