Alcman. Night Poem.
Over the drowsy earth still night prevails; Calm sleep the mountain tops and shady vales, The rugged cliffs and hollow glens; The cattle on the hill. Deep in the sea, The countless finny race and monster brood Tranquil r…
The Sri Lanka Podcast: Poetry From The Jungle
There’s a particular sound to the jungle-a layered quiet of leaves, birds, and distant water. It’s from within that atmosphere that The Sri Lanka Podcast: Poetry From The Jungle finds its voice. Produced by The Ceylon Press, each episode is recorded at the Flame Tree Estate & Hotel, nestled in the wilds northwest of Kandy. This isn’t a standard literary analysis show; it’s an experience of resonance. Here, timeless poems by renowned authors are read aloud, allowing their rhythms and meanings to intertwine with the ambient sounds of a Sri Lankan forest. The setting does more than provide backdrop-it actively shapes how you hear each word, offering a fresh and quietly profound perspective on verses you thought you knew. This podcast invites a slower kind of listening, where a classic sonnet might be punctuated by a monsoon shower or the call of a hornbill. It’s for anyone who believes place matters, that the environment where a story is told becomes part of the story itself. Tune in for a unique fusion of the literary and the natural, a deliberate retreat into the world of spoken art framed by one of the planet’s most vibrant soundscapes.
Episodes
Anna Akhmatova. Poem Without a Hero.
I have lit my treasured candles, one by one, to hallow this night. With you, who do not come, I wait the birth of the year. Dear God! the flame has drowned in crystal, and the wine, like poison, burns Old malice bites th…
Alun Lewis. All Day It Has Rained.
All day it has rained, and we on the edge of the moors Have sprawled in our bell-tents, moody and dull as boors, Groundsheets and blankets spread on the muddy ground And from the first grey wakening we have found No refu…
Allen Ginsberg. My Sad Self.
Sometimes when my eyes are red I go up on top of the RCA Building and gaze at my world, Manhattan— my buildings, streets I’ve done feats in, lofts, beds, coldwater flats —on Fifth Ave below which I also bear in mind, its…
Abu Nuwas. In The Bath-House.
In the bath-house, the mysteries hidden by trousersAre revealed to you.All becomes radiantly manifest.Feast your eyes without restraint!You see handsome buttocks, shapely trim torsos,You hear the guys whispering pious fo…
Catullus. Poem 5.
Let us live, my Lesbia, and love,and the rumors of rather stern old menlet us value all at just one penny!Suns may set and rise again;for us, when once the brief light has set,an eternal night must be slept.Give me a tho…
Andrew Marvell. To His Coy Mistress.
Had we but world enough and time,This coyness, lady, were no crime.We would sit down, and think which wayTo walk, and pass our long love’s day.Thou by the Indian Ganges’ sideShouldst rubies find; I by the tideOf Humber w…
Breyten Breytenbach. A Footnote Under The Night Of History.
in the night when everything was blackburnt to a cross of ashon the blind glassand the dog’s bark a dark kiteblowing away in darkness to where the moontears like the keel of a sinking boatI dreamt my languagethe title pa…
Alun Lewis. The Jungle.
The Ceylon Press publishes a range of podcasts including The History Of Sri Lanka; the off-grid Jungle Diaries podcast; Island Stories, the podcast that explores what makes Sri Lanka, Sri Lankan; the Wild Isle Podcast: S…
