{"title":"အံ့ဖွယ်ဇင်","description":null,"products":[{"product_id":"အံဖွယ်ဇင်-စစ်ကြီးကဘယ်လောက်ကြာဦးမှာလဲ","title":"Amazing Zen - How long will the war last?","description":"\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e Though chilled with horror\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e with a second blow\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e He struck it, and decided\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e then to look.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e \u003cstrong data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eTorquato Tasso (Jerusalem Liberated)\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eMost of the poems in How Long Will the War Last? use dramatic monologue. According to literary scholar M. H. Abrams \u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003ein\u003c\/span\u003e A Glossary of Literary Terms (7th ed, 1999), a dramatic monologue \u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eis a monologue in which a person expresses his private thoughts in his own words. The speech of an individual is not a romanticized version of life. It\u003c\/span\u003e \u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eis not a form of self-revelation. It is a way of relating his thoughts and ideas to society. Sometimes he brings out the people he wants to bring out and speak directly to them. In diplomatic poetry -\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eDon't let people know your pain.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e I have long hair.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e To make people know my pain\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e I put on jeans and a T-shirt.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e To make people not know my pain\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e I put on sunglasses.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e To make people not know my pain\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e I told jokes.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e Laughing.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eIt is said. Although there are poetic theories that say that the narrator of a poem cannot be the poet himself, this poem is an interior monologue by the poet Anbwe Zin \u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e. But sometimes pain is not so much an individual as an individual. It is something that is entangled in the stressful nature of society. In the poem Nightingale Season, after talking about pleasant situations, he suddenly says. Oh, how fun..., I invite my friend to visit, Really, I forgot my headache medicine, and he is directly communicating with the person he wants to call. It can even be interpreted that the narrator or Anbwe Zin in the poem keeps some parts of his pain for himself and expresses the rest in a different form. Therefore, his individuality is\u003c\/span\u003e \u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eclearly related to society.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eOdin had a saying about the poems of his predecessors. About suffering they were \u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003enever wrong, the Old Masters...). The suffering of the various characters in the poem is transmitted to society. Why? It is more evident in the poem of the common market.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eOnce upon a time, there were evening sweatshops lined up at a shop that cost 800 kyats.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e Oh... what are they building?\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e The stilt houses are still submerged...\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eThe poet's pain is not just about giving voice to the voiceless, but also about his humanity. His pain is not about the death of signs. It is the kind of pain that makes signs, symbols, alive. \u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eIt is the kind of pain that makes linguistic meanings productive.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eIn other words, we do not simply find pain in the stories of the poems or in the poems of Aung Bwe Zin. He sees pain as being relived in various ways, as trying to recreate it. This is because pain is not a pain that comes to the unconscious mind, but a pain that is far from the body. We see pain related to historical awareness (the game of shooting is no longer fun, the poem talks about wars and peace, and finally tears flow, the scene is blurry, the windows and doors are closed, and the city is old with a big shadow, now it is raining, now it is boiling, now it is shaking), class awareness, grief to defiance, and reactions to trying to leave the past behind (for example, in the poem Goodbye Today, the pain of the abnormal period is being crushed and destroyed... Give me my turn, give me my turn).\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eOne of the unique features of the book is its use of repetition. When you use repetition, it's like the narrator is screaming and exploding from his heart. In the poem \"Goodbye Today,\" it's like, \"I'll take a turn, I'll take a turn.\" In the poem \"We Have a Room,\" it's like, \"I'll take a turn.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e We have a room.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eNever opened\/opened.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e There's no madman lying in front of that room.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e There are no spider webs in front of that room.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e Welcome in front of that room. There is no sign.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e There is no December in front of that room.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e That room sometimes speaks.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eSometimes I cry, sometimes I laugh. Even in Sunday Lovers, which reveals the loss of leisure time in human life,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e Give me Sunday, give me Sunday, give me Sunday, every day\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e A day to rest\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e Give me Sunday, give me Sunday, give me Sunday, every day\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e The day I lost myself\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eIt is called a double wound. A wound that is both for oneself (in one's mind) and for society, \u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003ea\u003c\/span\u003e \u003cspan data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003emagical wound that changes in various forms\u003c\/span\u003e .\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003eIn short, most of the poems in this book are not the kind of poems that will make you choke and choke, or the kind that will make your head pop open. They are the kind of poems that will try to make you happy, whispering about the trauma that is spreading throughout the world. How satisfying is that? How soothing? Even if you find joy in the poems, you will have to watch what is happening in the narrator's self and be happy and hurt. What you want from poetry is what this book will contain. But if possible, I would recommend these poems to good translators.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\n \u003cp data-mce-fragment=\"1\"\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"စိတ်ကူးချိုချိုစာပေ","offers":[{"title":"ပုံနှိပ်စာအုပ်","offer_id":45539669737621,"sku":"","price":1350.0,"currency_code":"MMK","in_stock":false},{"title":"စာမြည်းရန်အီးဘွခ်","offer_id":45539669770389,"sku":"","price":0.0,"currency_code":"MMK","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0609\/9756\/6613\/products\/1_96a43212-d640-4864-a0f4-39e90208d236.jpg?v=1730252419"}],"url":"https:\/\/mgyoe.com\/en\/collections\/%e1%80%a1%e1%80%b6%e1%80%b7%e1%80%96%e1%80%bd%e1%80%9a%e1%80%ba%e1%80%87%e1%80%84%e1%80%ba.oembed","provider":"mgyoe.com","version":"1.0","type":"link"}