Daddy - Sylvia Plath
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- เผยแพร่เมื่อ 6 ก.ย. 2024
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On our channel, we use the power of artificial intelligence to transform beautiful poems into captivating musical experiences. Every day, we share a new video that breathes life into poetry through the art of music.
What will you find on Our Symphony?
Selected poems from world literature
Emotion-filled music tailored to each poem
Visually engaging photos
If you have a passion for the fusion of literature and music, this is the perfect place for you.
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Daddy
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time--
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal
And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.
In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend
Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.
It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene
An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.
The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.
I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You--
Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.
You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who
Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.
But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I’m finally through.
The black telephone’s off at the root,
The voices just can’t worm through.
If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two--
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There’s a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.
Poem: Sylvia Plath
Music & Singer: AI
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Man thank you so much for making this masterpiece, you don't know how much you guys helped me in my literary studies and exams , I actually have an exam few hours from now, and I kinda memorized about a half of it so far , thanks a lot , sending love and respect from Syria 🇸🇾
Thank you:) I hope your exams go well and everything in your life turns out the way you want it to. Sending love and respect to Syria 🌼
@@OurSymphonyy Thanks man , I did great in the exam, and 10 out of 50 questions were about "Daddy" as missing words questions , thank you, I'll check out other songs in your channel when I have my exams finished, Love this kinda music, respect 🙏🏻
@@CR-id4sh I'm glad your exam went well, my friend. I hope the rest go just as smoothly! :)