Engelsk
Rytme-Tid&Ordklasser
19. december 2006 af
Sannaen (Slettet)
Er midt i en analyse af dette digt, men sidder med nogle problemer:
Hvordan er rytmen i dette digt? Har forsøgt mig med stavelser osv.. meen.. det virker ikke rigtig.
Digtet er fra det 18'ende århundrede. Er der nogle særlige kendetegn ved digtene derfra?
Er der nogle ordklasser som fremgår tydligere end andre? Jeg ville ikke sige at der umildbart er det
Er der metaforer? /: Er helt lost.. Ved hvad det er men, jeg kan ikke rigtig se om der er ?
Poem by Walt Whitman [1819-1892]
O Captain! My Captain!
I.
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring.
But O heart! heart! heart!
Leave you not the little spot,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
II.
O captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up - For you the flag is flung - for you the bugle trills:
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths - for you the shores a?crowding:
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning.
O Captain! dear father!
This arm I push beneath you;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
III.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
But the ship, the ship is anchor'd safe, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won:
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with silent treas,
Walk the spot my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead
Hvordan er rytmen i dette digt? Har forsøgt mig med stavelser osv.. meen.. det virker ikke rigtig.
Digtet er fra det 18'ende århundrede. Er der nogle særlige kendetegn ved digtene derfra?
Er der nogle ordklasser som fremgår tydligere end andre? Jeg ville ikke sige at der umildbart er det
Er der metaforer? /: Er helt lost.. Ved hvad det er men, jeg kan ikke rigtig se om der er ?
Poem by Walt Whitman [1819-1892]
O Captain! My Captain!
I.
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring.
But O heart! heart! heart!
Leave you not the little spot,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
II.
O captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up - For you the flag is flung - for you the bugle trills:
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths - for you the shores a?crowding:
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning.
O Captain! dear father!
This arm I push beneath you;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
III.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
But the ship, the ship is anchor'd safe, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won:
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with silent treas,
Walk the spot my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead
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