Poetry

Name     : Herliani Cyntia

SRN : 1801121335

Subject  : Introduction to literature

Class      : B

1. Poetry is a written literary work whose content is an expression of the poet's feelings by using language that has semantic meaning and contains rhythm, rhyme, and rhythm in line and verse arrangement.

2. 

- Narrative

       The Ballad of the Harp Weaver

"Son," said my mother,

When I was knee-high,

"you've need of clothes to cover you,

and not a rag have I.

There's nothing in the house

To make a boy breeches,

Nor shears to cut a cloth with,

Nor thread to take stitches.

There's nothing in the house

But a loaf-end of rye,

And a harp with a woman's head

Nobody will buy,"

And she began to cry.

- Dramatic 

               A Wife's Letter

 My husband who wandered

 The moon is pale tonight

 Gray trees

 Swinging, above the pale delusion.

 And how gray is the face of my heart

 because I know, my husband.

 Next Christmas

 you can't go home.

 What a bland house

 without the smell of your cigarettes

 and when it rains heavily

 I miss hearing your whisper

 which I usually hear

 when our cheeks collide.

 I already admit your pillowcase

 and I have bought it too

 your favorite tobacco.

 And I had imagined

 you sit in your chair

 roll a palm leaf cigarette

 while outside

 days getting older.

 Then comes your letter

 which only brings homesickness

 but not your body.

 I cried a little, my husband.

 -Lyric  

                      Italian Sonnet

Turn back the heart you've turned away

Give back your kissing breath

Leave not my love as you have left

The broken hearts of yesterday

But wait, be still, don't lose this way

Affection now, for what you guess

May be something more, could be less

Accept my love, live for today.

- Epic

- Satrical

                     Mazeppa 

'Twas after dread Pultowa's day,

When fortune left the royal Swede - 

Around a slaughtered army lay,

No more to combat and to bleed.

The power and glory of the war,

Faithless as their vain votaries, men,

Had passed to the triumphant Czar,

And Moscow’s walls were safe again -

Until a day more dark and drear,

And a more memorable year,

Should give to slaughter and to shame

A mightier host and haughtier name;

A greater wreck, a deeper fall,

A shock to one - a thunderbolt to all.

3. 

- Balada 

Mother weasel in the shelter of an old tree burrow.

Her two babies were left behind by her son.

The boasting of the sickle regarding the night announced that it was coming.

The time to eat the babies are tiny dear.

His eyes said goodbye, he left.

The possession of the hamlets, the bush, the daily stakes for life.

The colic sings the villagers' hot news of revenge.

Flirting with the ends of his feathers but shaking them off too.

Soar also sang colic until he died suddenly.

With a screeching squeak that bites more leaflets.

Caught a female civet killed the next day.

He did not return home who had to take away his daily fortune.

A good mother, a good death, an old leaves also fall on the carcass.

- Hymne

Oh my God

We have fallen into a sea of ​​sin

The second minute our hour is immersed in sin

An ambiguous mind

Frozen heart

Please forgive us

 Oh, my God

 Has dirty every inch of this meat

 Have humiliated this self

 Misuse Your gifts

 Confess Your blessings

 May you guide us back

 Into Your righteous path

 Into Your straight path

 Before you call us back

 Into Your eternal realm

- Ode

 My teacher ...

 Light in my darkness

 Filler all my blanks

 Conditioning the wilting of my heart

 You kill all ignorance

 You light up every side of the soul

 You are vulnerable to all negative views

 Your heart is truly noble

 What a sacrifice you have

 Your sincerity is priceless

 Your suit is like precious gold

 Will not be replaced until death picks up

 Will not be covered by the ugliness of the world

 My teacher ...

 I thank you from the bottom of my heart

- Epigram

 That day there was no place to run

 There is no place to hide

 Nobody begged for mercy

 Everything is together

 Charity is the only helper

 The only light charity

 Moaning is meaningless

 Regret is useless

 Only then did he become aware of the mortal world

- Romansa

 This story is just you and me

 There is no third, fourth, fifth

 I am you

 You are me

 Your smile is my happiness

 Your cry is my way

 Your image is my duty

 Because of you…

 Is my rib

- Elegi

 In the groan of the soul

 I cry remembering You

 In a heartbreak

 I bow down to You

 In my weeping

 I surrender to You

 Reflect on all sins and mistakes

 Fear me and regret it

 I always say a prayer string

 Oh, my God…

 Please forgive my sin

 Please forgive my mistake

- Satire

 Look at us

 Sweat and sweat are our friends

 Hard bone is our loyalty

 Disadvantages are our strengths

 Suffering is our daily life

 But look at you

 Laughing on our sweaty sweat

 Relax on our crushed bones

 Info above our shortcomings

 You stole all our rights

 You stole a bite of our rice

 You have abundant treasure on our behalf

 You promised on our behalf

 We're just pretty silent

 On our prayer mat

 May God repay this tyranny