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Абидосская невеста
Поэма "Абидосская невеста" написана Джорджем Гордоном Байроном в 1813г. Повествует о таких восточных проявлениях жестокости, как религиозный фанатизм и нетерпимость, семейный деспотизм и др.
79 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1813
2 people are currently reading
104 people want to read
About the author
Lord Byron
4,392 books2,102 followersGeorge Gordon Byron (invariably known as Lord Byron), later Noel, 6th Baron Byron of Rochdale FRS was a British poet and a leading figure in Romanticism. Amongst Byron's best-known works are the brief poems She Walks in Beauty, When We Two Parted, and So, we'll go no more a roving, in addition to the narrative poems Childe Harold's Pilgrimage and Don Juan. He is regarded as one of the greatest British poets and remains widely read and influential, both in the English-speaking world and beyond.
Byron's notabilty rests not only on his writings but also on his life, which featured upper-class living, numerous love affairs, debts, and separation. He was notably described by Lady Caroline Lamb as "mad, bad, and dangerous to know". Byron served as a regional leader of Italy's revolutionary organization, the Carbonari, in its struggle against Austria. He later travelled to fight against the Ottoman Empire in the Greek War of Independence, for which Greeks revere him as a national hero. He died from a fever contracted while in Messolonghi in Greece.
Byron's notabilty rests not only on his writings but also on his life, which featured upper-class living, numerous love affairs, debts, and separation. He was notably described by Lady Caroline Lamb as "mad, bad, and dangerous to know". Byron served as a regional leader of Italy's revolutionary organization, the Carbonari, in its struggle against Austria. He later travelled to fight against the Ottoman Empire in the Greek War of Independence, for which Greeks revere him as a national hero. He died from a fever contracted while in Messolonghi in Greece.
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Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews
July 4, 2018
Romance in the Pasha’s Court
4 July 2018 – Byron Bay
Well, since I’m in Byron Bay I thought it might be time to actually read some Lord Byron. Well, sort of because Byron Bay was discovered years before Lord Byron was running around fighting for Greek independence and writing Romantic poetry alongside the likes of Percy Shelly and Tennyson. One thing that I have noticed when I looked at by bookshelf was the lack of poetry that I have there and realised that maybe I needed to rectify that situation, though when it comes to Byron, it had more to do with a painting on the wall of one of the pubs where a guy reading Byron was being chased by a bunch of women, though since I wasn’t able to find a copy of his works at the two bookshops here I had to settle to reading one of his poems on my tablet (and that is one of the reasons I prefer real books, because people can see you are reading a real book and comment on it – that happened to me in Paris where as soon as I got my hands on a physical copy of A Moveable Feast people started noticing).
Well, Lord Byron was certainly an interesting character. He was one of the Romantics, and there are certainly a few poems to choose from, and I decided to go for a shorter one. The thing that makes him stand out is that he was such a passionate lover of Ancient Greek culture that he actually travelled to Greece to help them fight for their independence, and is even considered a hero over there. The other thing was that to say that he was a bit of a philanderer is a massive understatement, though as it turns out his one legitimate child, Ada Lovelace, is said to be one of the world’s first computer programmers (despite the fact that computers only existed in theory back then).
So, onto the poem. This is a rather tragic story, but then again I wouldn’t expect anything less from the Romantics. The thing with the Romance movement is that it actually isn’t all Mills and Boon type romance, or even those novels that you see with half-naked men on the cover bearing their sixpacks for everybody to see. No, their view of romance was quite dark and tragic – no everybody getting married and living happily ever after at the end of these poems.
The story is about a Turkish prince who falls in love with his half sister, however their father basically forbids them to marry, for obvious reasons. However, he runs away, becomes a pirate, and then learns that he actually isn’t related and that the only reason he lived with the Pasha was because his father (the previous Pasha) was killed when he was young (by the current Pasha no less), and he was adopted into his family. As such it seems that the way is clear for them to marry, except that the Pasha still really isn’t all that keen. Actually, he is blatantly opposed to the idea, so they have a fight, and the Pasha wins – end of poem.
Ahh, how tragic is the world of love. This isn’t any of that silly Hollywood rubbish – this is love in the real world. There is no compromise here, no winning over the reluctant stepfather or the convincing the other that you are actually a pretty decent person after all. No this is love in the real world where we are left for dead at the side of the road, heartbroken, and wondering what went wrong. This is a world were romances are destroyed and are never rekindled, where the lover is left wandering the dark and empty streets forever with no light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak.
I guess this is why I love the Romantics so much, because they don’t speak to the ideal, but the speak to the realistic, or at least Byron does in this sense. Then again I noticed it with both of the Shelly’s as well, in particular Percy (who, in my opinion, is a far better writer than his wife, but then again that is just my opinion). Maybe it is because I never found happiness in love, but then again, romantic love doesn’t fill that empty void, no matter what Hollywood says. In fact, I recently watched a movie from the 80s where the main character professes his undying love out of the blue, and for some unknown reason they actually got together. Honestly, doing that only ends in tears, but then again, Hollywood really does seem to be disconnected from the real world.
4 July 2018 – Byron Bay
Well, since I’m in Byron Bay I thought it might be time to actually read some Lord Byron. Well, sort of because Byron Bay was discovered years before Lord Byron was running around fighting for Greek independence and writing Romantic poetry alongside the likes of Percy Shelly and Tennyson. One thing that I have noticed when I looked at by bookshelf was the lack of poetry that I have there and realised that maybe I needed to rectify that situation, though when it comes to Byron, it had more to do with a painting on the wall of one of the pubs where a guy reading Byron was being chased by a bunch of women, though since I wasn’t able to find a copy of his works at the two bookshops here I had to settle to reading one of his poems on my tablet (and that is one of the reasons I prefer real books, because people can see you are reading a real book and comment on it – that happened to me in Paris where as soon as I got my hands on a physical copy of A Moveable Feast people started noticing).
Well, Lord Byron was certainly an interesting character. He was one of the Romantics, and there are certainly a few poems to choose from, and I decided to go for a shorter one. The thing that makes him stand out is that he was such a passionate lover of Ancient Greek culture that he actually travelled to Greece to help them fight for their independence, and is even considered a hero over there. The other thing was that to say that he was a bit of a philanderer is a massive understatement, though as it turns out his one legitimate child, Ada Lovelace, is said to be one of the world’s first computer programmers (despite the fact that computers only existed in theory back then).
So, onto the poem. This is a rather tragic story, but then again I wouldn’t expect anything less from the Romantics. The thing with the Romance movement is that it actually isn’t all Mills and Boon type romance, or even those novels that you see with half-naked men on the cover bearing their sixpacks for everybody to see. No, their view of romance was quite dark and tragic – no everybody getting married and living happily ever after at the end of these poems.
The story is about a Turkish prince who falls in love with his half sister, however their father basically forbids them to marry, for obvious reasons. However, he runs away, becomes a pirate, and then learns that he actually isn’t related and that the only reason he lived with the Pasha was because his father (the previous Pasha) was killed when he was young (by the current Pasha no less), and he was adopted into his family. As such it seems that the way is clear for them to marry, except that the Pasha still really isn’t all that keen. Actually, he is blatantly opposed to the idea, so they have a fight, and the Pasha wins – end of poem.
Ahh, how tragic is the world of love. This isn’t any of that silly Hollywood rubbish – this is love in the real world. There is no compromise here, no winning over the reluctant stepfather or the convincing the other that you are actually a pretty decent person after all. No this is love in the real world where we are left for dead at the side of the road, heartbroken, and wondering what went wrong. This is a world were romances are destroyed and are never rekindled, where the lover is left wandering the dark and empty streets forever with no light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak.
I guess this is why I love the Romantics so much, because they don’t speak to the ideal, but the speak to the realistic, or at least Byron does in this sense. Then again I noticed it with both of the Shelly’s as well, in particular Percy (who, in my opinion, is a far better writer than his wife, but then again that is just my opinion). Maybe it is because I never found happiness in love, but then again, romantic love doesn’t fill that empty void, no matter what Hollywood says. In fact, I recently watched a movie from the 80s where the main character professes his undying love out of the blue, and for some unknown reason they actually got together. Honestly, doing that only ends in tears, but then again, Hollywood really does seem to be disconnected from the real world.
July 28, 2020
I'm no expert in poetry therefore I don't really have much to say. It was interesting and different than anything I've read before.
Jane Austen July 2020: Read a book by a contemporary of Jane Austen.
The Reading Rush 2020: 2/ Read a book that starts with the word “The”.
Jane Austen July 2020: Read a book by a contemporary of Jane Austen.
The Reading Rush 2020: 2/ Read a book that starts with the word “The”.
February 26, 2024
Lord Byron has never failed to touch me with his tragedies, his poetry is so beautiful and thought provoking. He is without a doubt my favourite poet.
Here are some of my favourite lines from "The Bride of Abydos":
"Haroun, who saw my spirit pining
Beneath inaction's sluggish yoke,
His captive, though with dread, resigning,
My thraldom for a season broke,
On promise to return before
The day when Giaffir's charge was o'er.
'Tis vain — my tongue can not impart
My almost drunkenness of heart,
When first this liberated eye
Survey'd Earth, Ocean, Sun and Sky,
As if my spirit pierced them through,
And all their inmost wonders knew!
One word alone can paint to thee
That more than feeling — I was Free!
Ev'n for thy presence ceased to pine;
The World — nay — Heaven itself was mine!"
"The winds are high, and Helle's tide
Rolls darkly heaving to the main;
And Night's descending shadows hide
That field with blood bedew'd in vain,
The desert of old Priam's pride;
The tombs, sole relics of his reign,
All — save immortal dreams that could beguile
The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle!"
"Dear — as his native song to exile's ears,
Shall sound each tone thy long-loved voice endears.
For thee in those bright isles is built a bower
Blooming as Aden in its earliest hour.
A thousand swords, with Selim's heart and hand,
Wait — wave — defend — destroy — at thy command!
Girt by my band, Zuleika at my side,
The spoil of nations shall bedeck my bride.
The Haram's languid years of listless ease
Are well resign'd for cares — for joys like these:
Not blind to fate, I see, where'er I rove,
Unnumber'd perils — but one only love!
Yet well my toils shall that fond beast repay,
Though fortune frown or falser friends betray.
How dear the dream in darkest hours of ill,
Should all be changed, to find thee faithful still!
Be but thy soul, like Selim's, firmly shown;
To thee be Selim's tender as thine own;
To soothe each sorrow, share in each delight,
Blend every thought, do all — but disunite!
Once free, 'tis mine our horde again to guide;
Friends to each other, foes to aught beside:
Yet there we follow but the bent assign'd
By fatal Nature to man's warring kind:
Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease!
He makes a solitude, and calls it — peace!"
Here are some of my favourite lines from "The Bride of Abydos":
"Haroun, who saw my spirit pining
Beneath inaction's sluggish yoke,
His captive, though with dread, resigning,
My thraldom for a season broke,
On promise to return before
The day when Giaffir's charge was o'er.
'Tis vain — my tongue can not impart
My almost drunkenness of heart,
When first this liberated eye
Survey'd Earth, Ocean, Sun and Sky,
As if my spirit pierced them through,
And all their inmost wonders knew!
One word alone can paint to thee
That more than feeling — I was Free!
Ev'n for thy presence ceased to pine;
The World — nay — Heaven itself was mine!"
"The winds are high, and Helle's tide
Rolls darkly heaving to the main;
And Night's descending shadows hide
That field with blood bedew'd in vain,
The desert of old Priam's pride;
The tombs, sole relics of his reign,
All — save immortal dreams that could beguile
The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle!"
"Dear — as his native song to exile's ears,
Shall sound each tone thy long-loved voice endears.
For thee in those bright isles is built a bower
Blooming as Aden in its earliest hour.
A thousand swords, with Selim's heart and hand,
Wait — wave — defend — destroy — at thy command!
Girt by my band, Zuleika at my side,
The spoil of nations shall bedeck my bride.
The Haram's languid years of listless ease
Are well resign'd for cares — for joys like these:
Not blind to fate, I see, where'er I rove,
Unnumber'd perils — but one only love!
Yet well my toils shall that fond beast repay,
Though fortune frown or falser friends betray.
How dear the dream in darkest hours of ill,
Should all be changed, to find thee faithful still!
Be but thy soul, like Selim's, firmly shown;
To thee be Selim's tender as thine own;
To soothe each sorrow, share in each delight,
Blend every thought, do all — but disunite!
Once free, 'tis mine our horde again to guide;
Friends to each other, foes to aught beside:
Yet there we follow but the bent assign'd
By fatal Nature to man's warring kind:
Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease!
He makes a solitude, and calls it — peace!"
June 29, 2017
Zarifliği ile gönül okşuyor. Bir hikayeden ziyade uzun bir şiiri andırıyor.
Şiire doyacaksınız, eğer öyle bir şey mümkünse.
Şiire doyacaksınız, eğer öyle bir şey mümkünse.
January 19, 2018
In which bad old Lord Byron almost pens a narrative poem about incest, only to bail out on it and write instead a revenge tragedy with a mythic ending.
The daughter, Zuleika, and the (supposed) son, named Selim, of a Turkish Pasha called Giaffir, are thrown into turmoil when their father informs that he is to give the hand of his beloved girl away in marriage for political reasons.
In actuality, Selim is the son of Guaffir's brother, who the ambitious Pasha murdered long ago, retaining the boy and bringing him up as his son, though he mistreats and despises him (He rear'd me, not with tender help, / But like the nephew of a Cain) keeping him from manly pursuits and then accusing him of being 'Greek in soul if not in creed'.
Byron has the pseudo-siblings vow to love each only for ever and share a less than chaste kiss before one of them at least knows the truth, after which Selim becomes to Zulieka "yet now my more than brother!"
I enjoyed the first canto in particular, which sets the scene for something more than the second delivered. Byron varies the meter a fair bit, and he used Turkish phrases well for some of his rhymes, such as chibouque (pipe), Comboloio (rosary) and Galiongée (sailor).
I think Byron preferred Selim as a lover than a fighter.
I did anyway.
The daughter, Zuleika, and the (supposed) son, named Selim, of a Turkish Pasha called Giaffir, are thrown into turmoil when their father informs that he is to give the hand of his beloved girl away in marriage for political reasons.
In actuality, Selim is the son of Guaffir's brother, who the ambitious Pasha murdered long ago, retaining the boy and bringing him up as his son, though he mistreats and despises him (He rear'd me, not with tender help, / But like the nephew of a Cain) keeping him from manly pursuits and then accusing him of being 'Greek in soul if not in creed'.
Byron has the pseudo-siblings vow to love each only for ever and share a less than chaste kiss before one of them at least knows the truth, after which Selim becomes to Zulieka "yet now my more than brother!"
I enjoyed the first canto in particular, which sets the scene for something more than the second delivered. Byron varies the meter a fair bit, and he used Turkish phrases well for some of his rhymes, such as chibouque (pipe), Comboloio (rosary) and Galiongée (sailor).
I think Byron preferred Selim as a lover than a fighter.
I did anyway.
June 28, 2016
The second of the Turkish tales wasn't as good as the first (The Giaour). The story felt rushed, especially in the concluding canto. But, I enjoyed it, hence the 3 stars. I was especially fond of the XII stanza of the 1st canto. Fast pacing, lovely verse. The first few lines are:
He lived — he breathed — he moved — he felt;
He raised the maid from where she knelt;
His trance was gone — his keen eye shone
With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt;
With thoughts that burn — in rays that melt.
November 18, 2017
Whatever Lord Byron wrote is top of the top. This is a very sad but very sweet tale of love, in a way that only Byron can express. These are not just poems. They are immortal masterpieces. Humankind can wait as long as they want, but they will never find a better poet than Lord Byron.
July 26, 2025
A turkish the Giaffir rebukes his supposed son, Selim. Selim professes his love for his half-sister, Zuleika, Giaffir's daughter. Selim relates how Giaffir had killed Abdallah, Selim's father and Giaffir's brother. Selim's story continues as he tells her that he learned of his true identity from one of his father's loyal servants, Haroun, and that since Selim himself was raised by Giaffir, he was detested and maltreated. He became a pirate so that he could gather a posse for revenge, and asserts his lust for Giaffir's blood. He fails, though and is slain by Giaffir leaving Zuleika heartbroken and she dies of sorrow.
An interesting short story-style poem with very intrinsic details from Persian lore as well as some Western poets referenced.
An interesting short story-style poem with very intrinsic details from Persian lore as well as some Western poets referenced.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 23, 2024
Another excellent tale of Lord Byron
May 5, 2024
Byron entangles you within so many passions from line to line—it’s awesome to experience.
Read
August 25, 2024way too much of a flop for me i fear
July 13, 2025
Amorous, vengeful and boring to read.
Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews