Do You Still Have Hope

If you can look at the sunset and smile, then you still have hope…

If you can find beauty in the colors of a small flower, then you still have hope…

If you can find pleasure in the movement of a butterfly, then you still have hope…

If the smile of a child can still warm your heart, then you still have hope…

If you can see the good in other people, then you still have hope…

If the rain breaking on a roof top can still lull you to sleep, then you still have hope…

If the sight of a rainbow still makes you stop and stare in wonder,

then you still have hope…

If the soft fur of a favored pet still feels pleasant under your fingertips,

then you still have hope…

If you meet new people with a trace of excitement and optimism,

then you still have hope…

If you give people the benefit of a doubt,

then you still have hope…

If you still offer your hand in friendship to others

that have touched your life, then you still have hope…

If receiving an unexpected card or letter still brings

a pleasant surprise, then you still have hope…

If the suffering of others still fills you with pain and frustration,

then you still have hope…

If you refuse to let a friendship die, or accept that it must end,

then you still have hope…

If you look forward to a time or place of quiet and reflection,

then you still have hope…

If you still buy the ornaments, put up the Christmas tree

or cook the turkey, then you still have hope…

If you still watch love stories or want the endings to be happy,

then you still have hope…

If you can look to the past and smile,

then you still have hope….

If, when faced with the bad, when told everything is futile, you can still look up and end the conversation with the phrase… yeah….BUT.. Then you still have hope…

Hope is such a marvelous thing. It bends, it twists, it sometimes

hides, but rarely does it break… It sustains us when nothing else can… It gives us reason to continue and courage to move ahead, when we tell ourselves we’d rather give in…

Hope puts a smile on our face when the heart cannot manage… Hope puts our feet on the path when our eyes cannot see it… Hope moves us to act when our souls are confused of the direction….

Hope is a wonderful thing, something to be cherished and nurtured, and something that will refresh us in return… And it can be found in each of us, and it can bring light into the darkest of places…

Never lose hope…

Todavía tienes esperanza

Si puedes mirar el atardecer y sonreír, entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si puedes encontrar la belleza en los colores de una pequeña flor, entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si puedes encontrar placer en el movimiento de una mariposa, entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si la sonrisa de un niño todavía puede calentar tu corazón, entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si puedes ver lo bueno en otras personas, entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si la lluvia que se rompe en la azotea todavía puede adormecerte, entonces todavía tienes esperanza...

Si la visión de un arco iris todavía te hace parar y mirar con asombro,

entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si el suave pelaje de una mascota favorita sigue siendo agradable bajo la punta de tus dedos,

entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si conoces gente nueva con un rastro de emoción y optimismo,

entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si le das a la gente el beneficio de una duda,

entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si aún ofreces tu mano en amistad a los demás

que han tocado tu vida, entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si recibir una tarjeta o carta inesperada todavía trae

una agradable sorpresa, entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si el sufrimiento de otros todavía te llena de dolor y frustración,

entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si te niegas a dejar que una amistad muera, o aceptar que debe terminar,

entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si espera un momento o lugar de quietud y reflexión,

entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si todavía compras los adornos, pones el árbol de Navidad

o cocinas el pavo, entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si sigues viendo historias de amor o quieres que las terminaciones sean felices,

entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si puedes mirar al pasado y sonreír,

entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

Si, cuando te enfrentas a lo malo, cuando te dicen que todo es inútil, aún puedes mirar hacia arriba y finalizar la conversación con la frase ... sí ... .Pero ... entonces todavía tienes esperanza ...

La esperanza es algo maravilloso. Se dobla, se retuerce, a veces

se esconde, pero rara vez se rompe ... Nos sostiene cuando nada más puede ... Nos da razones para continuar y valor para seguir adelante, cuando nos decimos a nosotros mismos que preferimos ceder...

La esperanza pone una sonrisa en nuestra cara cuando el corazón no puede ... La esperanza pone nuestros pies en el camino cuando nuestros ojos no pueden verlo ... La esperanza nos mueve a actuar cuando nuestras almas están confundidas en la dirección ...

La esperanza es algo maravilloso, algo que debemos valorar y nutrir, y algo que nos refrescará a cambio ... Y se puede encontrar en cada uno de nosotros, y puede llevar luz a los lugares más oscuros...

Nunca pierdas la esperanza…

Do you like it or not? I like the poem because it encourages me, it says things that make one reflect and I realize that there are things I still do that are named in the poem.

Arco iris

(Mario Benedetti)

A veces

por supuesto

usted sonríe

y no importa lo linda

o lo fea

lo vieja

o lo joven

lo mucho

o lo poco

que usted realmente

sea

sonríe

cual si fuese

una revelación

y su sonrisa anula

todas las anteriores

caducan al instante

sus rostros como máscaras

sus ojos duros

frágiles

como espejos en óvalo

su boca de morder

su mentón de capricho

sus pómulos fragantes

sus párpados

su miedo

sonríe

y usted nace

asume el mundo

mira

sin mirar

indefensa

desnuda

transparente

y a lo mejor

si la sonrisa viene

de muy

de muy adentro

usted puede llorar

sencillamente

sin desgarrarse

sin deseperarse

sin convocar la muerte

ni sentirse vacía

llorar

sólo llorar

entonces su sonrisa

si todavia existe

se vuelve un arco iris.

Rainbow

Sometimes

of course

you smile

and it doesn’t matter how pretty

or how ugly

how old

or how young

how much

or how little

you really 

are

You smile

as if it was

a revelation

and your smile cancels

all previous ones 

they instantly expire

their faces like masks

their eyes hard

fragile

like oval mirrors

their biteable mouth

their capricious chin

their fragrant temples

their eyelids

their fear

You smile 

and you’re born

takes on the world

looks

not looking

defenceless

naked

transparent

and maybe

if the smile comes 

from very

very deep

you can cry

simply

not tearing apart

not despairing

not invoking death

not feeling empty either

cry

just cry

then your smile 

if it’s still there

becomes a rainbow.

I like this poem because talks about the smile that  shows how a person really is.

Tus ojos

(Octavio Paz)

Tus ojos son la patria del relámpago y de la lágrima, 

silencio que habla, 

tempestades sin viento, mar sin olas, 

pájaros presos, doradas fieras adormecidas, 

topacios impíos como la verdad, 

o toño en un claro del bosque en donde la luz canta en el hombro de un árbol y son pájaros todas las hojas, 

playa que la mañana encuentra constelada de ojos, 

cesta de frutos de fuego, 

mentira que alimenta, 

espejos de este mundo, puertas del más allá, 

pulsación tranquila del mar a mediodía, 

absoluto que parpadea, 

páramo.

Your Eyes

Your eyes are the homeland of lightning and of tears,

silence that speaks,

storms without wind, ocean without waves,

caged birds, dormant golden beasts,

topazes as wicked as the truth,

autumn in a clearing of the forest in which the light sings on the shoulder of a tree

and all the leaves are birds,

a seashore that the morning finds starry-eyed,

a fruit basket of fire,

a lie that nurtures,

mirrors of this world, doors of the beyond,

calm pulsation of the sea at midday,

all that twinkles,

drizzling rain.

 

I like this poem because it talks about how the eyes can tell us more than words, we can communicate with others only with looks

Butterfly

Exercises:
1: A rhyming word for "leaps" Reaps
2: The homophone for "hear"Here
3: A synonym for "eat"Nourish

4: What happens first in the poem? 
     a. the butterfly flies
     b the caterpillar eats
     c. the chrysalis is formed
     d. the caterpillar creeps

5: What is the silken home?
     a. a flower
     b. a butterfly
     c. the chrysalis
     d. the sculpture

6: How does the speaker of the poem feel about the butterfly? How do you know? He is amazed by what the caterpillar does and how it becomes.

5 Steps to Analyzing a Poem: Messy Room

Step 1:

• What is the subject of the poem? A person who complains about a messy room
• Who is speaking? A person
• Who is the narrator speaking to? To the owner of the room

Step 2:

• Why was the poet written the poem? Because he wanted to leave a message to people.
• What is he/ she trying to say? That we tend to see the mistakes of others but not ours.
• Is it an emotional response to something? It is a response to society, since it tends to judge people.
• Is it trying to elicit an emotional response? More than an emotional change, look for a change of mentality.
• Is it portraying a message or opinion on a subject or event? I think it shows a situation where the message is clear and concrete, on a current issue today.

Step 3:

• What are the different emotions and feelings of the poet? I think he feels that the world is full of people who are dedicated to judging others, and a feeling of sadness and disappointment for the people around us.
• What is the mood or atmosphere of the poem? An atmosphere of criticism.
• How has the poet used different poetic techniques to show these attitudes and feelings? The poet uses the different techniques so that the poem goes with a concrete message and easy to understand

Step 4:

• What are the different poetic techniques the poet has used to show the attitudes and feelings in the poem? The poetic techniques he uses to understand the poem are reticence, apostrophe and chaotic enumeration
• How has the poet shown these feelings through form and structure? The way he demonstrates it is by describing things that the speaker criticizes and then changing the initial situation for what really happened
• How has the poet used poetic devices to show these feelings? He has used them in a way that completely changed the meaning of the poem in the last lines, thus demonstrating an emotion of criticism to one of self-criticism

Step 5:

• How do you feel about the poem? I feel that I should reflect on how I act
• How well does the poet get the messenger across? It comes implicitly but easily understood.
• What is the impact of the poem on the reader ? The impact that causes a reflection in the reader as it makes one think about his actions.

Video

a) What line or lines of the poem do you like the most and why?

My favorite line is "It’s the fire in my eyes" because the eyes are the window of the soul and you can see in them really how is a person.

b) What is the message the poem is trying to give? Why do you believe so?

The message of the poem is that women love themselves, I think this because all the time it talks about the characteristics and the beauty of each woman

c) Are women "phenomenal"? Explain.

Yes, because we are all different, we are strong and our beauty is in the uniqueness of every woman,that's why I think we're all phenomenal.

Poems

Where the sidewalks ends 

( Shel Silverstein)

There is a place where the sidewalk ends

And before the street begins,

And there the grass grows soft and white,

And there the sun burns crimson bright,

And there the moon-bird rests from his flight

To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black

And the dark street winds and bends.

Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow

We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,

And watch where the chalk-white arrows go

To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,

And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,

For the children, they mark, and the children, they know

The place where the sidewalk ends.

Donde la acera acaba

Hay un lugar, un sito, donde la acera acaba,

donde la calle aún no ha comenzado;

allí la hierba crece blanca y blanda

y allí el sol carmesí brilla y calienta

y allí la luna alada reposa de su vuelo

y se baña en la brisa mentolada.

Larguémonos de aquí, donde el humo es tan negro

y las lúgubres calles nos constriñen.

Lejos de las canteras de las flores de asfalto

con pasos calculados y sin prisa,

que nos guíen las flechas de tiza blanca al sitio

donde la acera acaba. 

Sí; sin prisa y con pasos calculados,

por el camino blanco de las flechas de tiza

que pintaron los niños, porque los niños saben

bien cuál es el lugar donde la acera acaba. 

Tiny Feet

(Gabriela Mistral)

A child's tiny feet, 

Blue, blue with cold, 

How can they see and not protect you? 

Oh, my God! 

Tiny wounded feet, 

Bruised all over by pebbles, 

Abused by snow and soil! 

Man, being blind, ignores 

that where you step, you leave 

A blossom of bright light, 

that where you have placed 

your bleeding little soles 

a redolent tuberose grows. 

Since, however, you walk 

through the streets so straight, 

you are courageous, without fault. 

Child's tiny feet, 

Two suffering little gems, 

How can the people pass, unseeing.

Piecesitos de Niños

Piececitos de niño,

azulosos de frío,

¡cómo os ven y no os cubren,

Dios mío!

¡Piececitos heridos

por los guijarros todos,

ultrajados de nieves

y lodos!

El hombre ciego ignora

que por donde pasáis,

una flor de luz viva

dejáis;

que allí donde ponéis

la plantita sangrante,

el nardo nace más

fragante.

Sed, puesto que marcháis

por los caminos rectos,

heroicos como sois

perfectos.

Piececitos de niño,

dos joyitas sufrientes,

¡cómo pasan sin veros

las gentes!

Maya Angelou's Biography

Marguerite Annie Johnson Angelou (April 4, 1928 to May 28, 2014), known as Maya Angelou, was an American author, actress, screenwriter, dancer, poet and civil rights activist best known for her 1969 memoir, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, which made literary history as the first nonfiction best-seller by an African-American woman. Angelou received several honors throughout her career, including two NAACP Image Awards in the outstanding literary work (nonfiction) category, in 2005 and 2009.