Bookworms. I don't even like the word. Still, it applies to me - I have been one as far back as I can remember and I cannot imagine life otherwise. The truth is that very few things match the pleasure of a good book and the joys, the knowledge it gives you. Don't tell me you don't have time to read. Don't tell me book lovers hide in books and forget to live; comfortable with second-hand experiences. Book lovers live a thousand lives, they write a thousand books, they travel in time and space. Book lovers are scary. They know so much, they have seen the depths of human souls, they have seen the light and touched the darkness, they have an understanding of things other people will never have.
William Styron
Monday, 2 June 2014
Poetry month
And here's the result of all the work students from class 10B at Emídio Garcia Secondary School in Bragança did during poetry month. Apart from everything that can be seen in the posts below there were oral presentations in class where students had to show their work, explain their options and discuss the poems they had been working on. It was hard work but it was also worth it and they did a great job. Congratulations, class!
Poetry month at Emídio Garcia on PhotoPeach
I'm nobody by Emily Dickinson
The students created several posters using their own photographs to illustrate the poem or parts of it.
Work by Inês Trovisco and Rita Trovisco
Work by Inês Trovisco and Rita Trovisco
Tonight at noon by Adrian Henri
The students read the poem and created a video to present it to class.
Then they used images from the video to create some posters which can be seen in this slideshow:
Tonight at noon on PhotoPeach
The students also worked the text in different ways. They rewrote the text beginning with Tonight at midnight...
Then they tried to expand the poem keeping the meaning and style...
And they adapted the original poem into Portuguese...
Work by Inês Trovisco and Rita Trovisco
Then they used images from the video to create some posters which can be seen in this slideshow:
Tonight at noon on PhotoPeach
The students also worked the text in different ways. They rewrote the text beginning with Tonight at midnight...
Then they tried to expand the poem keeping the meaning and style...
And they adapted the original poem into Portuguese...
Work by Inês Trovisco and Rita Trovisco
Autobiography in five chapters by Portia Nelson
The students created a Prezi to present the poem to the class.
They also created several posters to display on the school grounds...
... as well as a visual presentation and story cubes as can be seen in the photos.
They also created several posters to display on the school grounds...
... as well as a visual presentation and story cubes as can be seen in the photos.
Sit, by Vikram Seth
The students created a Prezi based on the poem.
Sit, drink your coffee here; your work can wait awhile.
You're twenty-six, and still have some life ahead.
No need for wit; just talk vacuities, and I'll
Reciprocate in kind, or laugh at you instead.
The world is too opaque, distressing and profound.
This twenty minutes' rendezvous will make my day:
To sit here in the sun, with grackles all around,
Staring with beady eyes, and you two feet away.
Work by Ana Rodrigues and Marina Vaz
Sit, drink your coffee here; your work can wait awhile.
You're twenty-six, and still have some life ahead.
No need for wit; just talk vacuities, and I'll
Reciprocate in kind, or laugh at you instead.
The world is too opaque, distressing and profound.
This twenty minutes' rendezvous will make my day:
To sit here in the sun, with grackles all around,
Staring with beady eyes, and you two feet away.
Work by Ana Rodrigues and Marina Vaz
Sunday, 1 June 2014
Antilamentation by Dorianne Laux
You can find the original poem here.
Then the students created their own version of it.
Then the students created their own version of it.
Regret
nothing
The moments
you spent with him
The nights
that left you sleepless
The
feelings that he caused on you
The arguments
and smiles you had together
Regret
nothing
The strange
jokes that you made
The times
you were upset for no reason
The night he
cuddled you to sleep
All the
smiles on his face
Regret
nothing
The days you didn't follow her advice
The days
you came home crying and she just hugged you
All the
times you yelled at her
All the times
that you told her "I love you"
Regret
nothing
The days
you fell asleep with him
The moments
when you didn't want to see him
Everything
he taught you
And don't
regret being proud of him.
Work by Ariana Fernandes and Daniela Galvão
The magic box, Kit Wright
Dead thick by Brian Patten
One of the students recorded the poem and the other mimed it creating a short video.
Then they attempted a translation into Portuguese.
Then they attempted a translation into Portuguese.
Como
uma porta
Não. Não tenho acompanhado as coisas modernas.
Não leio um livro há anos.
Livros de estudo? Alguns, mas nada de novo.
Reparem, não é que eu não
Tenha vontade, só que
Tenha vontade, só que
Nada captou a minha atenção.
Mesmo assim, eu gosto do que li: Hardy,
Golding, folheio
Graham Greene se tiver de ser.
Mas não, nada de novo. Reparem
Eu leio as críticas. Elas contêm
Muitas observações.
Após ler algumas vejo que
Posso criar a minha própria opinião.
Estou muito ocupado para a literatura, é esse o problema.
Estou à espera de uma promoção. Idealmente o que eu
gostaria
Era um trabalho em administração.
O que é que eu faço? Ensino. Inglês.
É cansativo. Os alunos são burros.
Não têm nada entre as orelhas.
Sabe que mais? Alguns deles
Não lêem um livro há anos.
Funeral blues, W. H. Auden
Based on the poem below by W. H. Auden the students created a visual presentation that was displayed on the school grounds.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Work by Maria Beatriz and Filipa Pizarro
Totally like whatever you know? by Taylor Mali
After reading the poem the students recorded their own voices and used the audio for a short video. Later on they decided to create a similar poem in Portuguese criticizing the way teens speak in their country.
Tipo bué de swag só que não
Tipo bué de swag só que não
Não sei se já reparaste, mas, tipo
Perdeu a pica toda falar como se, sabes,
Soubesses o que tás a dizer..
Ou acreditares nessas cenas
que acabaste de dizer..
Porque um gajo nem nota o que diz..
E, tipo, ya, fica mal, mas a gente tá
tipo..
LOL quero lá saber..
Mas, tipo, esta cena fica bué mal..
A gente pensa que tá a falar
com bué SWAG..
Mas no fim, é fatelas.. Toda
a gente consegue ver..
Mas eu nao sou o primeiro a dizê-lo,
E apesar de falar da mesma maneira..
Sei que está errado.. E que fica mal..
Por isso peeps.. Acordem... Essa cena
já passou..
Mas, olha, se curtes,
continua, LOL, importo-me bué..
Só que não.
Work by Eduardo
Afonso and Ali El-Zein
Dreams by Langston Hughes
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
Work by Ana Paula and Ana Soraia
The wife of Bafa, by Patience Abgabi
The students read the poem and tried to impersonate the character in a video.
Work by Maria Inês Rito and Ana Vilela
Work by Maria Inês Rito and Ana Vilela
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