Vuelvo con otra reseña de cine, esta vez con director español, el barcelonés J.A. Bayona al que parece que le va muy bien haciendo las américas. La peli de hoy es la secuela del reboot/secuela de la franquicia de dinosaurios más famosa de Hollywood, la saga de Jurassic Park.
Más que abrirse camino, podríamos decir que la vida artificial de estos dinosaurios "des-extinguidos" no parece diferir mucho de la de sus entregas anteriores, seguimos encontrando (y sufriendo) las mismas tramas una y otra vez. Millonarios vejetes, visionarios y con pocos escrúpulos, pero con unos nietos adorables, científicos también sin escrúpulos (ni memoria) que siempre reciben su karma siendo devorados demasiado rápido, escuadrones de mercenarios que quieren capturar dinosaurios con fines turbios, etc, etc, etc... Zzzzz...
La diferencia la tenemos en que la saga, especialmente en este nuevo lanzamiento, parece haber entrado en el efecto Dragon Ball. El enemigo (el "dinosaurio malo") cada vez es más salvaje, más malo, más indómito. Pero cuando sale la siguiente película, eso no es nada con el nivel de salvajismo y maldad del nuevo. Ya hace demasiado tiempo de aquel momento en el que nos sentimos acojonados por una recreación medio-CGI y medio animatrónica de un espectacular Tyranosaurius Rex. Y, al igual que el parque de marras, la saga necesita seguir vendiendo entradas.
El Indoraptor. Aun más malo, si cabe.
Habiendo sacado a lavar los trapos sucios fuera de casa, tengo que decir que salvando estos inconvenientes, es una película entretenida, salen dinosaurios a mansalva (a ver, ibas al cine a por eso, ¿no?). Tiene buen ritmo, las nuevas incorporaciones, aunque un poco tópicas, no desentonan demasiado en la química de los protagonistas principales, sobretodo en el de Cris Pratt, que sigue haciendo del humano más molón de la manada de bestias aunque ya no tenga tantos de esos chascarrillos preparados.
Si no vas a ir al cine esperando más que una película de entrenimiento (y dinosaurios, claro), has acertado. Porque, ¿que hay más jodidamente molón que un montón de dinosaurios recreados geneticamente en una isla desierta? ¡Exacto! Un dinosaurio medio T-Rex, medio raptor (con unas gotitas de Satanás in person, de lo malo que es el cabrón) acechando en una mansión victoriana en una noche de tormenta. Epic Win. Aunque el guión sea una mierda, pero esos ingredientes siempre molan.
Absténganse genetistas y/o personas que sepan suficiente de genética como para que te pueda explotar la cabeza con la explicación pseudo-científica. Sangre de ADN de dinosaurios en ámbar, que se ha conservado TAN bien desde hace millones de años, que apenas hay huecos en la cadena (nivel de suspensión de la incredulidad subiendo), le añado que pueda cruzar especies diferentes, de periodos diferentes, como si nada (S.I. en zona ámbar), añadirle genes de otras criaturas terrestres porque hacen cosas "guays" y que el resultado mantenga esas habilidades, perfectamente adaptadas a la nueva especie (S.I. en rojo), con genes preprogramados para obedecer estímulos en combate (S.I. en zona Danger), y que el cóctel no solo no crea una bestia mutante amorfa con tentáculos y babas sino que además es la repera en vinagre en todos los sentidos (S.I haciendo explotar sesos en 3, 2, 1...). Vamos, que si cojo una pieza de cada puzzle de la tienda, no solo encajan entre ellas a la perfección, sino que la imagen que forman todos ellos es de una belleza inconcebible. Sí, claro.
En fin, que es una peli de aventuras que, metiéndola aunque sea con calzador en el apartado de ciencia-ficción, resulta entretenida. Pero hasta ahí. Le pondremos un 6, pelado y rascado. Aunque la saga, me temo, vuelve a ser un reino caído...
Cuando estaba escribiendo la entrada de vidojuegos de Android, al hablar de la (jodi##síma) dificultad de Ninja Arashi me ha venido a la cabeza este vídeo, escrito y animado por Guy Collins. Cuando lo ví, recordé muchas partidas, bien con mi vieja Master System II de Sega o más tarde con cualquiera de los PC's que tuve, sudando sangre para acabar juegos, incluso algunos que eran absurdamente complicados.
De hecho, buscando algo de información sobre este corto, acabo de descubrir que la expresión "Kaizo Trap" se refiere a ese momento en el que el programador (no vamos a culpar a la máquina por esto) ha puesto una trampa mortal precisamente en un momento en el que ya pareces estar fuera de peligro, con lo que por lo general consiguen matarte a traición. Si habéis jugado a Quake, ¿recordáis a un shambler puesto con toda la mala leche del mundo tras de una puerta de final de nivel? Pues eso precisamente.
Un corto de animación fabuloso, que tenía que compartir con vosotros:
Por cierto, he leído también que este corto tiene pistas por ahí introducidas (?) que desbloquean finales alternativos (???)... Así que he dicho, "Ah, vale", y os dejo la ayuda para los que seáis muy diestros con la informática, y ya me avisareis si lo conseguís... (porque lo que soy yo, no tengo ni habilidad ni tiempo...)
Pues sí, tal cual. Resulta que por lo general no suelo tener muchos problemas con los jueguecillos corras del móvil. Básicamente lo que hago es ir probando los que tienen mejor puntuación en Google Play y parece que son de mi estilo y que suelen acabar desinstalados en menos de una semana. Incluso muchos de los más famosos han pasado sin pena ni gloria por mi móvil cuando he visto que suelen ser un Pay-to-win o cuando simplemente no me gustaban las mecánicas con las que se regían.
Pero a veces encuentras cosas chulas. Y muy de vez en cuando, te sorprendes con varias novedades que te han hecho tilín, más o menos al mismo tiempo. Este post es un recopilatorio de tres de esos juegos, gratuitos para mas inri, que me han sorprendido muy agradablemente. ¿Empezamos?
3) Jurassic World Alive (Ludía)
No nos engañemos, no es más que una reimplementación del Pokemon Go que tan fuerte pegó hace poco más de un año. Sobre un plano de la zona en la que estás, cortesía de Google Maps, aparecen varios dinosaurios. Como no puedes ir a por ellos, lanzas un dron que tira dardos con los que captas su ADN (??? O bien los dardos tienen un super laboratorio genético en el interior y luego transmiten toda las cadenas de ADN de los diferentes cromosomas por bluetooth en segundos... o esto es un poco pillado de los pelos). En todo caso, la lista de dinosaurios es inmensa, y aunque parece que no te vaya a picar luego vas a bajar la basura y te sorprendes a ti mismo cruzando al otro lado de la calle porque al otro lado hay un dinoraurio raro... Aquí el colega Jack lo usa también para sacar a pasear a los niños, con la excusa de "venga, vamos a cazar dinosaurios".
2) Tactical Monsters (Gamex Games & Lemix Games)
Un juego cachondísimo que no engaña a nadie. Se basa en combates tácticos entre diferentes tipos de monstruos. Como si fuera la fase de combate del Heroes of Might & Magic III, los monstruos escogidos parten de la posición que tu les das (entre lo que se puede escoger, claro) para enfrentarte al adversario. Cada monstruo tiene sus particularidades concretas: pueden volar, tirar hechizos, ataque a distancia, todos tienen ataques especiales, etc. Además, hay montones de modos de juego que todos ellos proporcionan de una manera u otra diferentes premios en forma de joyas, oro o nuevas cartas de monstruos, que pueden subir de nivel en función de cuantas cartas del mismo tengas. Puedes potenciarlo hasta donde tu quieras a base pagar, pero para nada es obligatorio.
1) Ninja Arashi (Black Panther Studio)
Un arcade 2D de los de toda la vida, solo que hecho con una definición y un nivel de detalle propio de esta época. Dificultad endiablada la que tiene que afrontar nuestro ninja regresado del averno, para ejecutar su venganza. Los diferentes escenarios son preciosos, con un Japón medieval visitado durante lo que parece el ocaso, todo muy sombrío, pero a la vez super-detallado. ¿He comentado ya la altísima dificultad, verdad? El terreno está plagado de trampas y emboscadas y no hay contador de vida que valga, una lanza, una bala o una mala caída de devuelven al principio sin compasión. Además, tiene algo que me encanta. El juego da créditos a sus creadores a través de publicidad (optativa, muchas veces) o si quieres comprar mejoras con dinero real para facilitar el juego, pero que en ningún caso son obligatorias ni suponen una traba de no hacerlas. Para mi, un imprescindible al 100%.
Lo dicho, ya que se han pegado una currada y aun así han tenido el (raro) detalle de dejar que puedan jugarse al máximo sin gastar ni un €, yo creo que se merecen una oportunidad.
En la entrada anterior comentaba cómo me gusta encontrarme supuestas casualidades que no lo son tanto, sino en realidad "grados de relación", como en el caso de la canción de los Maiden de la que se inspiraron en el poema que estudié el último cuatrimestre, un poema que para mi era desconocido, aunque me sonó mucho...
De animalesmascotas.com (no se yo si como mascota...)
Pues bien, suma y sigue. El caso es que el ave que aparece en el poema, el albatros, o Diomeda epomophora, no suele ser un animal del que uno suela oír hablar a menudo. Y sin embargo... de nuevo, ese tilín de algo que encajaba dentro de mi cabeza, en ese apartado caótico de los recuerdos. Y de nuevo, efectivamente, no era casualidad. Damas y caballeros, ¿recuerdan uds. el albatros colgando del cuello del anciano marinero? pues ahí va la versión de los (muy muy muy) geniales Monty Python:
Es posible que este fuese el único sketch que haya visto de este grupo de cómicos durante mi infancia y, mira tu por donde, tenía que ser precisamente otro (peculiar) homenaje al poema de Coleridge.
Lo que son las cosas a veces...
Y como no puedo resistirme... ¡Bonus video! Uno que descubrí ya de mayorcito, pero que no puedo evitar añadirlo a la entrada de hoy. A los que no os guste el humor británico no os lo recomiendo. Pero si os gusta, lo encontrareis hilarante. Prepararos para llorar de la risa:
Hay una ley no escrita que todos los estudiantes han tenido que aprender, generalmente por las malas, que dice que si no tienes más remedio que distraerte un rato de lo que estudias, por lo menos que sea con algo relacionado con lo que estudias. Es una manera de no perder el tiempo... del todo.
¿Os acordais cuando hace algún tiempo me encontré con una curiosa casualidad cuando me leía La Tempestad de Shakespeare? Ésta casualidad, concretamente. Pues me ha vuelto a pasar. Y he de decir que me encanta. No el que me suene algo y no sepa de qué (eso me jode mucho), sino las casualidades curiosas, que luego resultan que no lo son tanto.
Más que me suene, suele ser una sensación de Dejà vu, que dicen los franceses(literalmente, ya visto; pronúnciese /deyá fí/, no se os ocurra hacerlo a la castellana porque suena a aspirante a gafapasta que da alergia...) y que luego los (perdón, ahora las) hermanos (-as) Wachowsky adeptaron a la mitología de Matrix. Es la sensación de haber vivido ya algo con anterioridad.
Así pues, os explico. Me encuentro repasando poemas que ya tendría que haber leído antes para un examen que está demasiado cerca (genio y figura hasta la sepultura, en fin...) y me encuentro con un poema (que resulta ser famosísimo) de Samuel Taylor Coleridge, un clásico de la poesía romántica inglesa de finales del siglo XVIII. Me lo leo y no solo me encanta, sino que además me recuerda mucho a algo. Menos mal que cuando me pasa esto tengo la suerte o la habilidad de encontrarlo rápido, sino me veo esa noche en vela dándole vueltas al coco a ver qué rayos es eso. Obsesivo que es uno a veces.
Lo mejor que puedo hacer es no explicar NADA del poema y recomendar su lectura. De verdad, es una pasada. Y si os gusta la literatura fantástica / gótica como a mí, os va a encantar. Palabrita.
Así pues, aprovechando que es de dominio público lo copio a continuación (y así de paso le doy algo de calidad a este blog tan friki, que ya empezaba a ser hora). Si alguien tiene problemas con el inglés en versión poética, podéis encontrar una traducciones castellanas bastante majas por la web sin ningún problema. Aunque os recomiendo la inglesa.
THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER
IN SEVEN PARTS
By Samuel Taylor Coleridge
PART THE FIRST.
It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
"By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
"The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
May'st hear the merry din."
He holds him with his skinny hand,
"There was a ship," quoth he.
"Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!"
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.
He holds him with his glittering eye--
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years child:
The Mariner hath his will.
The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:
He cannot chuse but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.
The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily did we drop
Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the light-house top.
The Sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he!
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.
Higher and higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon--
The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.
The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;
Nodding their heads before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.
The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,
Yet he cannot chuse but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.
And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong:
He struck with his o'ertaking wings,
And chased south along.
With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe
And forward bends his head,
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And southward aye we fled.
And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold:
And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.
And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen:
Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken--
The ice was all between.
The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around:
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound!
At length did cross an Albatross:
Thorough the fog it came;
As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.
It ate the food it ne'er had eat,
And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The helmsman steered us through!
And a good south wind sprung up behind;
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariners' hollo!
In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white Moon-shine.
"God save thee, ancient Mariner!
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!--
Why look'st thou so?"--With my cross-bow
I shot the ALBATROSS.
PART THE SECOND.
The Sun now rose upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,
Still hid in mist, and on the left
Went down into the sea.
And the good south wind still blew behind
But no sweet bird did follow,
Nor any day for food or play
Came to the mariners' hollo!
And I had done an hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay
That made the breeze to blow!
Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious Sun uprist:
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
That bring the fog and mist.
The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow followed free:
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.
Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
'Twas sad as sad could be;
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea!
All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody Sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the Moon.
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.
About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.
And some in dreams assured were
Of the spirit that plagued us so:
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.
And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.
Ah! well a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung.
PART THE THIRD.
There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye,
When looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.
At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist:
It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.
A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it neared and neared:
As if it dodged a water-sprite,
It plunged and tacked and veered.
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
We could not laugh nor wail;
Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,
And cried, A sail! a sail!
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard me call:
Gramercy! they for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in,
As they were drinking all.
See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!
Hither to work us weal;
Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel!
The western wave was all a-flame
The day was well nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright Sun;
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the Sun.
And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,
(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)
As if through a dungeon-grate he peered,
With broad and burning face.
Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,
Like restless gossameres!
Are those her ribs through which the Sun
Did peer, as through a grate?
And is that Woman all her crew?
Is that a DEATH? and are there two?
Is DEATH that woman's mate?
Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-Mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.
The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were casting dice;
"The game is done! I've won! I've won!"
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out:
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea.
Off shot the spectre-bark.
We listened and looked sideways up!
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,
My life-blood seemed to sip!
The stars were dim, and thick the night,
The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white;
From the sails the dew did drip--
Till clombe above the eastern bar
The horned Moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.
One after one, by the star-dogged Moon
Too quick for groan or sigh,
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.
Four times fifty living men,
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.
The souls did from their bodies fly,--
They fled to bliss or woe!
And every soul, it passed me by,
Like the whizz of my CROSS-BOW!
PART THE FOURTH.
"I fear thee, ancient Mariner!
I fear thy skinny hand!
And thou art long, and lank, and brown,
As is the ribbed sea-sand.
"I fear thee and thy glittering eye,
And thy skinny hand, so brown."--
Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest!
This body dropt not down.
Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.
The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie:
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I.
I looked upon the rotting sea,
And drew my eyes away;
I looked upon the rotting deck,
And there the dead men lay.
I looked to Heaven, and tried to pray:
But or ever a prayer had gusht,
A wicked whisper came, and made
my heart as dry as dust.
I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And the balls like pulses beat;
For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky
Lay like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.
The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
Nor rot nor reek did they:
The look with which they looked on me
Had never passed away.
An orphan's curse would drag to Hell
A spirit from on high;
But oh! more horrible than that
Is a curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet I could not die.
The moving Moon went up the sky,
And no where did abide:
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside.
Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmed water burnt alway
A still and awful red.
Beyond the shadow of the ship,
I watched the water-snakes:
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.
Within the shadow of the ship
I watched their rich attire:
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coiled and swam; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.
O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare:
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware:
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.
The self same moment I could pray;
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.
PART THE FIFTH.
Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise be given!
She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,
That slid into my soul.
The silly buckets on the deck,
That had so long remained,
I dreamt that they were filled with dew;
And when I awoke, it rained.
My lips were wet, my throat was cold,
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,
And still my body drank.
I moved, and could not feel my limbs:
I was so light--almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessed ghost.
And soon I heard a roaring wind:
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails,
That were so thin and sere.
The upper air burst into life!
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about!
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.
And the coming wind did roar more loud,
And the sails did sigh like sedge;
And the rain poured down from one black cloud;
The Moon was at its edge.
The thick black cloud was cleft, and still
The Moon was at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag,
A river steep and wide.
The loud wind never reached the ship,
Yet now the ship moved on!
Beneath the lightning and the Moon
The dead men gave a groan.
They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,
Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;
It had been strange, even in a dream,
To have seen those dead men rise.
The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;
Yet never a breeze up blew;
The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do:
They raised their limbs like lifeless tools--
We were a ghastly crew.
The body of my brother's son,
Stood by me, knee to knee:
The body and I pulled at one rope,
But he said nought to me.
"I fear thee, ancient Mariner!"
Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest!
'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,
Which to their corses came again,
But a troop of spirits blest:
For when it dawned--they dropped their arms,
And clustered round the mast;
Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,
And from their bodies passed.
Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the Sun;
Slowly the sounds came back again,
Now mixed, now one by one.
Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the sky-lark sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning!
And now 'twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel's song,
That makes the Heavens be mute.
It ceased; yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.
Till noon we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.
Under the keel nine fathom deep,
From the land of mist and snow,
The spirit slid: and it was he
That made the ship to go.
The sails at noon left off their tune,
And the ship stood still also.
The Sun, right up above the mast,
Had fixed her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion--
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.
Then like a pawing horse let go,
She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.
How long in that same fit I lay,
I have not to declare;
But ere my living life returned,
I heard and in my soul discerned
Two VOICES in the air.
"Is it he?" quoth one, "Is this the man?
By him who died on cross,
With his cruel bow he laid full low,
The harmless Albatross.
"The spirit who bideth by himself
In the land of mist and snow,
He loved the bird that loved the man
Who shot him with his bow."
The other was a softer voice,
As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he, "The man hath penance done,
And penance more will do."
PART THE SIXTH.
FIRST VOICE.
But tell me, tell me! speak again,
Thy soft response renewing--
What makes that ship drive on so fast?
What is the OCEAN doing?
SECOND VOICE.
Still as a slave before his lord,
The OCEAN hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the Moon is cast--
If he may know which way to go;
For she guides him smooth or grim
See, brother, see! how graciously
She looketh down on him.
FIRST VOICE.
But why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
SECOND VOICE.
The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.
Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high
Or we shall be belated:
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner's trance is abated.
I woke, and we were sailing on
As in a gentle weather:
'Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high;
The dead men stood together.
All stood together on the deck,
For a charnel-dungeon fitter:
All fixed on me their stony eyes,
That in the Moon did glitter.
The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never passed away:
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.
And now this spell was snapt: once more
I viewed the ocean green.
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen--
Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Nor sound nor motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea,
In ripple or in shade.
It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring--
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.
Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Yet she sailed softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze--
On me alone it blew.
Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed
The light-house top I see?
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this mine own countree!
We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,
And I with sobs did pray--
O let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep alway.
The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So smoothly it was strewn!
And on the bay the moonlight lay,
And the shadow of the moon.
The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,
That stands above the rock:
The moonlight steeped in silentness
The steady weathercock.
And the bay was white with silent light,
Till rising from the same,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came.
A little distance from the prow
Those crimson shadows were:
I turned my eyes upon the deck--
Oh, Christ! what saw I there!
Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,
And, by the holy rood!
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.
This seraph band, each waved his hand:
It was a heavenly sight!
They stood as signals to the land,
Each one a lovely light:
This seraph-band, each waved his hand,
No voice did they impart--
No voice; but oh! the silence sank
Like music on my heart.
But soon I heard the dash of oars;
I heard the Pilot's cheer;
My head was turned perforce away,
And I saw a boat appear.
The Pilot, and the Pilot's boy,
I heard them coming fast:
Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy
The dead men could not blast.
I saw a third--I heard his voice:
It is the Hermit good!
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
The Albatross's blood.
PART THE SEVENTH.
This Hermit good lives in that wood
Which slopes down to the sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears!
He loves to talk with marineres
That come from a far countree.
He kneels at morn and noon and eve--
He hath a cushion plump:
It is the moss that wholly hides
The rotted old oak-stump.
The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk,
"Why this is strange, I trow!
Where are those lights so many and fair,
That signal made but now?"
"Strange, by my faith!" the Hermit said--
"And they answered not our cheer!
The planks looked warped! and see those sails,
How thin they are and sere!
I never saw aught like to them,
Unless perchance it were
"Brown skeletons of leaves that lag
My forest-brook along;
When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,
That eats the she-wolf's young."
"Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look--
(The Pilot made reply)
I am a-feared"--"Push on, push on!"
Said the Hermit cheerily.
The boat came closer to the ship,
But I nor spake nor stirred;
The boat came close beneath the ship,
And straight a sound was heard.
Under the water it rumbled on,
Still louder and more dread:
It reached the ship, it split the bay;
The ship went down like lead.
Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,
Which sky and ocean smote,
Like one that hath been seven days drowned
My body lay afloat;
But swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.
Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,
The boat spun round and round;
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.
I moved my lips--the Pilot shrieked
And fell down in a fit;
The holy Hermit raised his eyes,
And prayed where he did sit.
I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,
Who now doth crazy go,
Laughed loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro.
"Ha! ha!" quoth he, "full plain I see,
The Devil knows how to row."
And now, all in my own countree,
I stood on the firm land!
The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.
"O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!"
The Hermit crossed his brow.
"Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say--
What manner of man art thou?"
Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woeful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.
Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns;
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.
I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach.
What loud uproar bursts from that door!
The wedding-guests are there:
But in the garden-bower the bride
And bride-maids singing are:
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!
O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.
O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company!--
To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!
Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us
He made and loveth all.
The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.
He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man,
He rose the morrow morn.
Sí, puede que sea un poco largo, pero ¿a que es una pasada? Os suena también o no... porque a mi eso del Ancient Mariner... me sonaba mucho, pero mucho. Así que como mi cerebro no daba tregua, busco por internet (que es como leer la última página de la novela, a ver quién es el esquivo villano) y... voilà!
Ya decía yo que me sonaba. Evidentemente era por el título de la canción, cuando yo escuchaba este disco no solía leerme las letras en inglés (craso error), por lo que no conocía que esta bonita adaptación (de un grupo inglés) del famoso poema (inglés también). Me encanta cuando diferentes aficiones se encuentran...
