Keats's Ode to a Nightingale

Sdílet
Vložit

Komentáře • 74

  • @philipstaveley8214
    @philipstaveley8214 Před 2 lety +48

    I could imagine that this is how John K himself would have spoken this Ode , a beautiful rendition , a subtle brilliance.

  • @mariewelch5073
    @mariewelch5073 Před 4 lety +54

    This is the best recitation of this poem I've watched thus far!

    • @keatsfoundation8049
      @keatsfoundation8049  Před 4 lety +4

      Thank you, Taylor W. So glad you appreciated it!

    • @mariewelch5073
      @mariewelch5073 Před 4 lety +3

      @@keatsfoundation8049 Of course! Thank you so much for bringing it to life.

  • @anthonyshipman7574
    @anthonyshipman7574 Před 2 lety +15

    Good LORD! Matthew Coulton understands poetry! I listened to both Benedict Cumberbatch and Stephen Frye (both great actors, btw) recite the same poem before I listened to this version, and they sounded like they were … well, reciting poetry. Like a 10th grade student reading Keats in front of the classroom. But Coulton here NAILS it! He understands the emotion … the sorrow and ecstasy of this magnificent work. Great job, Matthew Coulton! “When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe than ours!”

    • @peterphillips2069
      @peterphillips2069 Před 2 lety +2

      Thank you for your kind comments, which I will happily share with Matthew and the Keats House team.

  • @truthlover7531
    @truthlover7531 Před rokem +13

    It seems Keats himself is reciting this poem ! So beautiful ! So soothing ! So heart touching ! It was in our syllabus in the third semester of our English Hons. After three years I am hearing this beautiful recitation. This creates sensation in me . 😇😇😇😇

  • @iansdigby
    @iansdigby Před 2 lety +14

    Well that was a masterclass in poetry recital, of one of the greatest poems of the English language.
    The nightingale, the image, the year 1819, all have a meaning beyond this earth.

  • @user-ps6pg6uc1e
    @user-ps6pg6uc1e Před 9 měsíci +6

    Immortal poet.❤

  • @519djw6
    @519djw6 Před 3 měsíci +2

    This is my favorite poem in the English language. I've only spent two and a half days in London--but spent one of them at the Keats House in Hampstead. It is one of the best days that I've spent in my life.

  • @denisespinal7672
    @denisespinal7672 Před rokem +5

    This is one of the best recitation I've ever heard. Almost made me cry.

  • @cosmica281
    @cosmica281 Před 3 lety +12

    My soul feels wobbly after your recitation. Too much beauty in too short a time. Thank you.

  • @tonyfinlay24
    @tonyfinlay24 Před 2 lety +8

    Thankyou my favourite poem brought to life as if spoke by Keats himself amazing.

  • @jayachandranr3364
    @jayachandranr3364 Před 8 měsíci +2

    Appreciation from India. Thank you for your simple but powerful recitation.

  • @sunilkingare4553
    @sunilkingare4553 Před 3 měsíci +2

    Keats is pouring out his heart to his readers. Its no longer a pain of an individual, but it becomes a general .

  • @letslearn4039
    @letslearn4039 Před 4 lety +10

    You made yourself John Keats. Thanks! It's beautiful. I love John Keats as if I know him.

  • @avs4365
    @avs4365 Před rokem +5

    Incredible performance - simply intoxicating - thankyou.

  • @melodyavon
    @melodyavon Před 4 měsíci +3

    Not mechanic but a beautiful and emotionally brimming recitation.Lovely!👍

  • @samlev7977
    @samlev7977 Před 2 lety +4

    Perfect recitation. The best I heard. And I heard many

  • @odetojohnkeats8703
    @odetojohnkeats8703 Před 4 lety +7

    I've just found YOU KEATS FOUNDATION channel and am still trembling with a fathomless emotion, thank YOU thank YOU thank YOU 8th VI 2020

  • @kristenrosales2919
    @kristenrosales2919 Před 18 dny

    Excellent voice and diction on this poem! Ode on a Grecian Urn and Ode to a Nightingale are one of my favorite poems to read.

  • @rupak47431
    @rupak47431 Před rokem +3

    Such a gem.. superb Coulton

  • @ausmiku
    @ausmiku Před rokem +4

    Best version I've heard !

  • @graciecu
    @graciecu Před 6 měsíci +1

    Bravo!!!!!!!!! It was an amazing performance. Thank you so much.

  • @arifaoishi62
    @arifaoishi62 Před rokem +2

    Getting goosebumps

  • @somnathlala7192
    @somnathlala7192 Před rokem +7

    Fantastic, each words are felt in the deepest core of the heart.

  • @Vesnicie
    @Vesnicie Před rokem +5

    Wonderful! I know this poem so well yet I feel as if I've just heard it for the first time.

  • @progressivelearningcentre
    @progressivelearningcentre Před 10 měsíci +4

    I felt every charm of this verse in my blood vessels

  • @cba21
    @cba21 Před rokem +3

    Excellent! I am moved.

  • @apurva1240
    @apurva1240 Před 3 lety +4

    A thing of beauty is a Joy forever! :)

  • @hrangarao5075
    @hrangarao5075 Před rokem +3

    Excellent recitation.Thank you so much.

  • @sumi-13
    @sumi-13 Před 10 měsíci +3

    It's really like Jonh Keats tells about the nightingale ode to his friend, Charls Armitage Brown which he just has written under a plum tree.

  • @janetbrodesser236
    @janetbrodesser236 Před 9 měsíci +2

    Is there anything like it, listening to these thoughts so skillfully, so empathetically? Thank you.

  • @davidmccarter9479
    @davidmccarter9479 Před 2 lety +5

    You have absolutely nailed this, thank you.

  • @rareword
    @rareword Před 6 měsíci +3

    Ode to a Nightingale
    BY JOHN KEATS
    My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
    My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
    Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
    One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
    'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
    But being too happy in thine happiness,-
    That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees
    In some melodious plot
    Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
    Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
    O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
    Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
    Tasting of Flora and the country green,
    Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
    O for a beaker full of the warm South,
    Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
    With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
    And purple-stained mouth;
    That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
    And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
    Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
    What thou among the leaves hast never known,
    The weariness, the fever, and the fret
    Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
    Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
    Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
    Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
    And leaden-eyed despairs,
    Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
    Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
    Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
    Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
    But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
    Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
    Already with thee! tender is the night,
    And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
    Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
    But here there is no light,
    Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
    Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
    I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
    Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
    But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
    Wherewith the seasonable month endows
    The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
    White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
    Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
    And mid-May's eldest child,
    The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
    The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
    Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
    I have been half in love with easeful Death,
    Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
    To take into the air my quiet breath;
    Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
    To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
    While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
    In such an ecstasy!
    Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain-
    To thy high requiem become a sod.
    Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
    No hungry generations tread thee down;
    The voice I hear this passing night was heard
    In ancient days by emperor and clown:
    Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
    Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
    She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
    The same that oft-times hath
    Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
    Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
    Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
    To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
    Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
    As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
    Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
    Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
    Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
    In the next valley-glades:
    Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
    Fled is that music:-Do I wake or sleep?

  • @HerAeolianHarp
    @HerAeolianHarp Před 3 lety +6

    Thank you so much for honoring the poetry and life of John Keats. I'm glad to have discovered your channel.

  • @donaldauguston9740
    @donaldauguston9740 Před 3 lety +4

    Thank you Matthew. This was just marvelous! DA

  • @aidamhz2585
    @aidamhz2585 Před 4 lety +4

    I'm so glad a keats foundation exists honestly I am just starting but yay

  • @69erthx1138
    @69erthx1138 Před 25 dny

    A wonderful anachronism of Keats Sir.

  • @timwhite4530
    @timwhite4530 Před rokem +3

    I am going to a concert in St Matthews Church, Northampton tonight, which includes a musical interpretation of the Ode, by the composer HH-H.
    I am not familiar with it, but having listened through three times, l feel at least s little prepared now.
    I hardly feel that a musical interpreter can improve on this version here.

  • @AllergicToMango
    @AllergicToMango Před 2 lety +3

    The only person who disliked this video is Ben Cumberbatch who is jealous of this wonderful reading.

  • @apurva1240
    @apurva1240 Před 3 lety +2

    You are Amazing Matthew Coulton...! its the best recitation... better than even Ben Whishaw's version.!

  • @anubhamukherji
    @anubhamukherji Před 3 lety +3

    Using it for my classroom viewing 👍

  • @eduardodifarnecio2336
    @eduardodifarnecio2336 Před 3 lety +1

    considered complaining but on second viewing a charming and affecting performance. subscribed.

  • @HansDunkelberg1
    @HansDunkelberg1 Před 2 lety +2

    Masterful!

  • @lukekennett6325
    @lukekennett6325 Před 2 lety

    Beautiful.

  • @sohambabii
    @sohambabii Před 7 měsíci

    Beautiful..

  • @krishanuchattopadhyay7006

    Lovely 😍😍😍😍

  • @tribhuban
    @tribhuban Před rokem +1

    Great 👏👏👏

  • @mdrashelmia4726
    @mdrashelmia4726 Před rokem

    Perfect

  • @jefferyhitchmough1790
    @jefferyhitchmough1790 Před 11 měsíci +1

    This is a really good rendition. Close to the best...

  • @Idazle
    @Idazle Před 3 lety +1

    I can't think of a better and more touching reading of this ode, and I've heard quite a few.

  • @anosensei
    @anosensei Před rokem

    If you are interested in an analysis of this poem, please click here: czcams.com/video/PoVy5zvRJHc/video.html

  • @JaiSriRamGOD
    @JaiSriRamGOD Před 7 měsíci

    I see this poem for jssc cgl from india

  • @pushpalroyhdfc
    @pushpalroyhdfc Před 11 měsíci

    Is it true?

  • @gmk2222
    @gmk2222 Před 3 měsíci

    Malcolm Guite sent me

  • @asmajan3358
    @asmajan3358 Před 4 měsíci +1

    POETRY FOUNDATION
    POEMS & POETS
    HARRIET
    ARTICLES
    VIDEO
    PODCASTS
    LEARN
    EVENTS
    POETRY MAGAZINE
    ABOUT US
    Newsletter
    Search
    Search by Poem or Poet
    Ode to a Nightingale
    BY JOHN KEATS
    My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
    My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
    Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
    One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
    'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
    But being too happy in thine happiness,-
    That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees
    In some melodious plot
    Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
    Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
    O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
    Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
    Tasting of Flora and the country green,
    Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
    O for a beaker full of the warm South,
    Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
    With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
    And purple-stained mouth;
    That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
    And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
    Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
    What thou among the leaves hast never known,
    The weariness, the fever, and the fret
    Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
    Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
    Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
    Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
    And leaden-eyed despairs,
    Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
    Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
    Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
    Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
    But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
    Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
    Already with thee! tender is the night,
    And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
    Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
    But here there is no light,
    Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
    Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
    I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
    Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
    But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
    Wherewith the seasonable month endows
    The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
    White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
    Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
    And mid-May's eldest child,
    The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
    The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
    Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
    I have been half in love with easeful Death,
    Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
    To take into the air my quiet breath;
    Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
    To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
    While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
    In such an ecstasy!
    Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain-
    To thy high requiem become a sod.
    Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
    No hungry generations tread thee down;
    The voice I hear this passing night was heard
    In ancient days by emperor and clown:
    Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
    Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
    She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
    The same that oft-times hath
    Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
    Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
    Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
    To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
    Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
    As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
    Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
    Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
    Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
    In the next valley-glades:
    Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
    Fled is that music:-Do I wake or sleep?

  • @alastairgreen2077
    @alastairgreen2077 Před 15 dny

    Keats', not Keats's.

  • @kompetop
    @kompetop Před rokem +1

    ivii

  • @kompetop
    @kompetop Před rokem +1

    ромолос

  • @rohanrohan4167
    @rohanrohan4167 Před rokem

    Well try excellent

  • @basavaraj.vastrad5617
    @basavaraj.vastrad5617 Před 10 měsíci

    When.had.read.poem.l.was.student.apprectiation 6:11 .Nightingel.poeme. 6:11 6:11johan.keats. 6:11

  • @aemarsey
    @aemarsey Před rokem

    man why tf i have to study this nonsense in my graduation why couldnt they just put story

  • @tamalimaiti1836
    @tamalimaiti1836 Před 11 měsíci

    Best version I have heard!