Double Feelings
Little am I understoodBy the world and worldlings in it;If, in ever-varying mood,I can vibrate in a minuteFrom the dirge which moves the heartInto passion, pain, or pity—To the laughing songs which startFancies strange, enigmas witty.
What am I?—a man midst men—All their faults and frailties sharing;What am I?—a citizen,All my country's sorrows bearing.For my love, joy-tears to shedWhen my visions glance upon her—Grief-tears, on my country's head,To pour out for her dishonour.
Love for me a garland bright,Of the sweetest flowers has braided;Home, with thorns and aconite,Has my forehead sadly shaded;When I touch my lyre I seeShadowy hands the gore-drops flingingOn the strings, while from the treeFalling leaves disturb my singing.
Words in this poem
- dirge n.
- A piece of music of a mournful character, to accompany funeral rites; a funeral hymn. [Contraction of Lat. dirige, direct thou (imperative of dirigere), the first word of a funeral hymn (Lat. transl. of Psalm v. 8) beginning, "Dirige, Domine, in c]
- witty a.
- Possessed of wit; knowing; wise; skillful; judicious; clever; cunning. [AS. witig, wittig. See Wit, n.]
- dishonour n.
- Lack of honor; disgrace; ignominy; shame; reproach. [OE. deshonour, dishonour, OF. deshonor, deshonur, F. déshonneur; pref. des- (L. dis-) + honor, honur, F. honneur, fr. L. honor. See Honor.]
- sadly adv.
- Wearily; heavily; firmly.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Double Feelings is in the public domain. This text is taken from Translations from Alexander Petofi, the Magyar Poet, by Sir John Bowring (London: Trübner & Co., 1866), Internet Archive, the John Bowring translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Sándor Petőfi, Double Feelings, in Translations from Alexander Petofi, the Magyar Poet (1866), text of Internet Archive, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petofi-poems-bowring/double-feelings.html, id L29833.
Form and metre
Double Feelings is 24 lines in 3 stanzas of 8 lines each. The metre is trochaic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 92%).
See other poems in trochaic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -A-ABCBC understood · itA · mood · minuteA · heartB · pityC · startB · wittyC
- 2 ABABC-C- menA · sharingB · citizenA · bearingB · shedC · her · headC · dishonour
- 3 ABABCDCD brightA · braidedB · aconiteA · shadedB · seeC · flingingD · treeC · singingD
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against trochaic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Little am I understood | 7 | /˘···˘/ |
| By the world and worldlings in it; | 8 | ········ |
| If, in ever-varying mood, | 8 | ··/˘/˘˘· |
| I can vibrate in a minute | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| From the dirge which moves the heart | 7 | ······· |
| Into passion, pain, or pity— | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| To the laughing songs which start | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Fancies strange, enigmas witty. | 8 | /˘·˘/˘/˘ |
| What am I?—a man midst men— | 7 | ······· |
| All their faults and frailties sharing; | 8 | ····/˘/˘ |
| What am I?—a citizen, | 7 | ····/˘˘ |
| All my country's sorrows bearing. | 8 | ··/˘/˘/˘ |
| For my love, joy-tears to shed | 7 | ······· |
| When my visions glance upon her— | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| Grief-tears, on my country's head, | 7 | ····/˘· |
| To pour out for her dishonour. | 8 | ·····˘/˘ |
| Love for me a garland bright, | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Of the sweetest flowers has braided; | 9 | ··/˘/˘·/˘ |
| Home, with thorns and aconite, | 7 | ····/˘˘ |
| Has my forehead sadly shaded; | 8 | ··/˘/˘/˘ |
| When I touch my lyre I see | 7 | ······· |
| Shadowy hands the gore-drops flinging | 9 | /˘˘····/˘ |
| On the strings, while from the tree | 7 | ······· |
| Falling leaves disturb my singing. | 8 | /˘·˘/·/˘ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.