Sunday, November 11, 2007

Dolores Haze, my car is limping

I once typed out the entire Lolita poem, word for word, exact punctuation, INCLUDING the French verse. Because it was one of the best poems ever. Love the rhyme scheme, the first verse and last verse... the poem was ten times better than the actual book. I have to do a book report on it (well, on some 12th grade reading level book... Josh is already doing Clockwork Orange and I can't stomach another go at the Vampire Chronicles) so I should it would be fitting to post it now. :3 I wish my poems were all as good as this.


Poem from Lolita
© Vladimir Nobokov

Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze.
Hair: brown. Lips: scarlet.
Age: five thousand three hundred days.
Proffesion: none, or "starlet".

Where are you hiding, Dolores Haze?
Why are you hiding, darling?
(I talk in a daze, I walk in a maze,
I cannot get out, said the starling).

Where are you riding, Dolores Haze?
What make is the magic carpet?
Is a Cream Cougar the present craze?
And where are you parked, my car pet?

Who is your hero, Dolores Haze?
Still one of those blue-caped star-men?
Oh the balmy days and the palmy bays,
And the cars, and the bars, my Carmen!

Oh Dolores, that juke-box hurts!
Are you still dancin', Darlin'?
(Both in worn levis, both in torn t-shirts,
And I, in my corner, snarlin').

Happy, happy is gnarled McFate
Touring the States with a child wife,
Plowing his Molly in every State
Among the protected wild life.

My Dolly, my folly! Her eyes were vair,
And never closed when I kissed her.
Know an old perfume called Soleil Vert?
Are you from Paris, mister?

L'autre soir un air froid d'opera m'alita:
Son fele-bien fol est qui s'y fie!
Il neige, le decor s'ecroule, Lolita!
Lolita, qu'ai-je fait de ta vie?

Dying, dying, Lolita Haze,
Of hate and remorse, I'm dying.
And again my hairy fist I raise,
And again I hear you crying.

Officer, officer, there they go-
In the rain, where that lighted store is!
And her socks are white, and I love her so,
And her name is Haze, Dolores.

Officer, officer, there they are-
Dolores Haze and her lover!
Whip out your gun and follow that car,
Now tumble out, and take cover.

Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze.
Her dream-gray gaze never flinches.
Ninety pounds is all she weighs
With a height of sixty inches.

My car is limping, Dolores Haze,
And the last long lap is the hardest,
And I shall be dumped where the weed decays,
And the rest is rust and stardust.


NOTE ABOUT ME! Nikki came over this weekend. :3 She was tired from a sleepover the night before, but we had fun anyways. Mostly we laid around and talked about fanstuff.

1 Comments:

Blogger Jordan said...

oh... that's a wonderful poem. It's going to stay with me for days. I absolutely love Lolita.

11/24/2007 10:07 PM  

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