Frases de Stephen Vincent Benét

Stephen Vincent Benét Foto
0   0

Stephen Vincent Benét

Fecha de nacimiento: 22. Julio 1898
Fecha de muerte: 13. Marzo 1943

Anuncio

Stephen Vincent Benét fue un escritor, poeta y novelista estadounidense. Es muy conocido por su poema sobre la Guerra Civil Estadounidense, John Brown's Body, publicado en 1928. Ganó un Premio Pulitzer por dicha obra en 1929.

Su cuento de fantasía "The Devil and Daniel Webster" ganó un Premio O'Henry, y fue la base de una ópera de un solo acto compuesta por Douglas Moore.

Benét nació en el seno de una familia militar. Durante su juventud residió principalmente en Benicia, California. De adolescente fue enviado a la Academia Militar Hitchcock. Se graduó en la Academia de Albany en Albany y la Universidad de Yale, y ganó un segundo Premio Pulitzer en 1944 por "Western Star", un poema sin terminar sobre la colonización de América.

El último verso de un poema de Benét, "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee" da el título al libro de Dee Brown sobre la destrucción de las tribus indígenas de Norteamérica, Enterrad mi corazón en Wounded Knee.

Su hermano, William Rose Benét fue poeta, antólogo y crítico, autor de una conocida obra de referencia, The Reader's Cyclopedia .

Autores similares

Vicente Aleixandre Foto
Vicente Aleixandre12
poeta español
Daniel Keyes3
escritor estadounidense
Rudyard Kipling Foto
Rudyard Kipling13
escritor británico
Tennessee Williams Foto
Tennessee Williams31
dramaturgo estadounidense
Bernhard Schlink Foto
Bernhard Schlink14
escritor alemán
Ernest Hemingway Foto
Ernest Hemingway61
escritor estadounidense

Frases Stephen Vincent Benét

„When the first wrong was done to the first Indian, I was there. When the first slaver put out for the Congo, I stood on her deck. Am I not in your books and stories and beliefs, from the first settlements on?“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: When the first wrong was done to the first Indian, I was there. When the first slaver put out for the Congo, I stood on her deck. Am I not in your books and stories and beliefs, from the first settlements on? Am I not spoken of, still, in every church in New England? 'Tis true the North claims me for a Southerner and the South for a Northerner, but I am neither. I am merely an honest American like yourself — and of the best descent — for, to tell the truth, Mr. Webster, though I don't like to boast of it, my name is older in this country than yours. Mr. Scratch

Anuncio

„We heard the shots in the night
But nobody knew next day what the trouble was
And a man must go to his work.“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: We heard the shots in the night But nobody knew next day what the trouble was And a man must go to his work. So I didn't see him For three days, then, and me near out of my mind And all the patrols on the streets with their dirty guns And when he came back, he looked drunk, and the blood was on him.

„I crawled. I could not speak or see
Save dimly.“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: I crawled. I could not speak or see Save dimly. The ice glared like fire, A long bright Hell of choking cold, And each vein was a tautened wire, Throbbing with torture — and I crawled. My hands were wounds. So I attained The second Hell.

„Never have I been so much alone“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: Never have I been so much alone — I tried to think of my knowledge, but it was a squirrel's heap of winter nuts. There was no strength in my knowledge any more and I felt small and naked as a new-hatched bird — alone upon the great river, the servant of the gods.

„He was talking about the things that make a country a country, and a man a man.
And he began with the simple things that everybody's known and felt — the freshness of a fine morning when you're young, and the taste of food when you're hungry, and the new day that's every day when you're a child. He took them up and he turned them in his hands. They were good things for any man. But without freedom, they sickened.“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: He started off in a low voice, though you could hear every word. They say he could call on the harps of the blessed when he chose. And this was just as simple and easy as a man could talk. But he didn't start out by condemning or reviling. He was talking about the things that make a country a country, and a man a man. And he began with the simple things that everybody's known and felt — the freshness of a fine morning when you're young, and the taste of food when you're hungry, and the new day that's every day when you're a child. He took them up and he turned them in his hands. They were good things for any man. But without freedom, they sickened. And when he talked of those enslaved, and the sorrows of slavery, his voice got like a big bell. He talked of the early days of America and the men who had made those days. It wasn't a spread-eagle speech, but he made you see it. He admitted all the wrong that had ever been done. But he showed how, out of the wrong and the right, the suffering and the starvations, something new had come. And everybody had played a part in it, even the traitors.

„Then he saw what he'd been about to do, and he wiped his forehead, as a man might who's just escaped falling into a pit in the dark.
For it was him they'd come for, not only Jabez Stone. He read it in the glitter of their eyes and in the way the stranger hid his mouth with one hand. And if he fought them with their own weapons, he'd fall into their power; he knew that, though he couldn't have told you how.“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: Finally, it was time for him to get up on his feet, and he did so, all ready to bust out with lightning and denunciations. But before he started he looked over the judge and jury for a moment, such being his custom. And he noticed the glitter in their eyes was twice as strong as before, and they all leaned forward. Like hounds just before they get the fox, they thickened as he watched them. Then he saw what he'd been about to do, and he wiped his forehead, as a man might who's just escaped falling into a pit in the dark. For it was him they'd come for, not only Jabez Stone. He read it in the glitter of their eyes and in the way the stranger hid his mouth with one hand. And if he fought them with their own weapons, he'd fall into their power; he knew that, though he couldn't have told you how. It was his own anger and horror that burned in their eyes; and he'd have to wipe that out or the case was lost. He stood there for a moment, his black eyes burning like anthracite. And then he began to speak.

„I'm waiting. … For something new and strange,
Something I've dreamt about in some deep sleep,
Truer than any waking“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: I'm waiting. … For something new and strange, Something I've dreamt about in some deep sleep, Truer than any waking, Heard about, long ago, so long ago, In sunshine and the summer grass of childhood, When the sky seems so near. I do not know its shape, its will, its purpose And yet all day its will has been upon me, More real than any voice I ever heard, More real than yours or mine or our dead child's, More real than all the voices there upstairs, Brawling above their cups, more real than light. And there is light in it and fire and peace, Newness of heart and strangeness like a sword, And all my body trembles under it, And yet I do not know. Innkeeper's wife

Anuncio

„Something is loosed to change the shaken world.“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: Something begins, begins; Starlit and sunlit, something walks abroad In flesh and spirit and fire. Something is loosed to change the shaken world. Innkeeper's wife

„The north and the west and the south are good hunting ground, but it is forbidden to go east.“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: The north and the west and the south are good hunting ground, but it is forbidden to go east. It is forbidden to go to any of the Dead Places except to search for metal and then he who touches the metal must be a priest or the son of a priest. Afterwards, both the man and the metal must be purified. These are the rules and the laws; they are well made. It is forbidden to cross the great river and look upon the place that was the Place of the Gods — this is most strictly forbidden. We do not even say its name though we know its name. It is there that spirits live, and demons — it is there that there are the ashes of the Great Burning. These things are forbidden — they have been forbidden since the beginning of time.

„I'm your narrator. It's my task to say
Just where and how things happen in our play,
Set the bare stage with words instead of props
And keep on talking till the curtain drops.“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: I'm your narrator. It's my task to say Just where and how things happen in our play, Set the bare stage with words instead of props And keep on talking till the curtain drops. … It's an old task — old as the human heart, Old as those bygone players and their art Who, in old days when faith was nearer earth, Played out the mystery of Jesus' birth In hall or village green or market square For all who chose to come and see them there, And, if they knew that King Herod, in his crown, Was really Wat, the cobbler of the town, And Tom, the fool, played Abraham the Wise, They did not care. They saw with other eyes. The story was their own — not far away, As real as if it happened yesterday, Full of all awe and wonder yet so near, A marvelous thing that could have happened here In their own town — a star that could have blazed On their own shepherds, leaving them amazed, Frightened and questioning and following still To the bare stable — and the miracle. Narrator

„And yet I strove — and I was fire
And ice — and fire and ice were one
In one vast hunger of desire.“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: p>The iron ice stung like a goad, Slashing the torn shoes from my feet, And all the air was bitter sleet. And all the land was cramped with snow, Steel-strong and fierce and glimmering wan, Like pale plains of obsidian. — And yet I strove — and I was fire And ice — and fire and ice were one In one vast hunger of desire.</p

Anuncio

„The fight was done. Even gods tire
Of fighting...“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: p>Was it not better so to lie? The fight was done. Even gods tire Of fighting... My way was the wrong. Now I should drift and drift along To endless quiet, golden peace... And let the tortured body cease.And then a light winked like an eye. ... And very many miles away A girl stood at a warm, lit door, Holding a lamp. Ray upon ray It cloaked the snow with perfect light. And where she was there was no night Nor could be, ever. God is sure, And in his hands are things secure.</p

„He brings man's freedom in his hands“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: He brings man's freedom in his hands, Not as a coin that may be spent or lost But as a living fire within the heart, Never quite quenched — because he brings to all, The thought, the wish, the dream of brotherhood, Never and never to be wholly lost, The water and the bread of the oppressed, The stay and succor of the resolute, The harness of the valiant and the brave, The new word that has changed the shaken world. And, though he die, his word shall grow like wheat And every time a child is born, In pain and love and freedom hardly won, Born and gone forth to help and aid mankind, There will be women with a right to say "Gloria, gloria in excelsis deo! A child is born!" Innkeeper's wife

„The sign was an eagle. It flew east.“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: I went fasting, as is the law. My body hurt but not my heart. When the dawn came, I was out of sight of the village. I prayed and purified myself, waiting for a sign. The sign was an eagle. It flew east. Sometimes signs are sent by bad spirits. I waited again on the flat rock, fasting, taking no food. I was very still — I could feel the sky above me and the earth beneath. I waited till the sun was beginning to sink. Then three deer passed in the valley going east — they did not mind me or see me. There was a white fawn with them — a very great sign.

„These I see,
Blazing through all eternity,
A fire-winged sign, a glorious tree!“

—  Stephen Vincent Benét
Context: It is not given me to trace The lovely laughter of that face, Like a clear brook most full of light, Or olives swaying on a height, So silver they have wings, almost; Like a great word once known and lost And meaning all things. Nor her voice A happy sound where larks rejoice, Her body, that great loveliness, The tender fashion of her dress, I may not paint them. These I see, Blazing through all eternity, A fire-winged sign, a glorious tree!

Help us translate English quotes

Discover interesting quotes and translate them.

Translate quotes
Siguiente
Aniversarios de hoy
José Manuel Balmaceda Foto
José Manuel Balmaceda8
Ex presidente de Chile 1840 - 1891
 Iturbide Foto
Iturbide1
1783 - 1824
Roberto Fontanarrosa Foto
Roberto Fontanarrosa89
1944 - 2007
Otros (number)s aniversarios hoy
Autores similares
Vicente Aleixandre Foto
Vicente Aleixandre12
poeta español
Daniel Keyes3
escritor estadounidense
Rudyard Kipling Foto
Rudyard Kipling13
escritor británico