translated Finnish-Romanian

Elegia yksinäisyydelle / Elegia singurătatii / Elegy to loneliness

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated Finnish-Romanian July 31, 2022

Elegia yksinäisyydelle / Elegia singurătatii / Elegy to loneliness

Yksin oot sinä, ihminen, kaiken keskellä yksin,
yksin syntynyt oot, yksin sa lähtevä oot.
Askelen, kaksi sa luulet kulkevas rinnalla toisen,
mutta jo eelläs hän on taikka jo jälkehes jäi,
hetken, kaksi sa itseäs vastaan painavas luulet
ihmisen, kaltaises — vierasta lämmititkin!
Silmää löytänyt et, joka vois sun katsehes kestää,
kättä sa et, joka ei liukunut luotasi pois.
Kylmä on ystävän mieli ja kylmä on armahan rinta.
Huulet liikkuvat vain, rinta on liikkumaton.
Leikkihin kumppanin löydät, et toden riemuhun, tuskaan.
Hiipua yksikseen tuntehes polttavin saa.
Ystävän, armaan vain oma kaipuus sulle on luonut,
houreen, jok’ katoaa, kun sitä kohti sa käyt.
Niin olet yksin, sa ihminen, yksin keskellä kaiken,
yksin syntynyt oot, yksin sa lähtevä oot,
yksin erhees kätket ja yksin kyyneles itket.
Ainoa uskollinen on oma varjosi vain.

Antero Koskenniemi

……………………………

Elegia singurătatii

Singur ești tu, omule, printre toate esti singur,
Singur te-ai născut, te vei duce singur.
Un pas, doi, crezi că mergi cu cineva alături,
deja insa te-a depasit, ori ti-a ramas in urma,
pentr-o clipă sau două crezi că imbratisezi
un alt om ca tine — ins-un străin la piept ai încălzit!
N-ai aflat ochi care să suporte a te vedea,
nici mână care să nu fuga de tine.
Rece-i mintea unui prieten și rece-i pieptul iubit.
Buzele mișcă doar, pieptul e neclintit.
Partener de joc gasesti, nu pentru-a adevarului bucurie, amar.
Cea mai arzătoare emoție-ti va muri in zadar.
Prieten, iubit, doar propriul tau dor i-a creat
iluzie ce dispare cand te-ai apropiat.
Astfel, singur esti, omule, printre toate esti singur,
singur te-ai născut, te vei duce singur,
singur îți ascunzi greșelile și îți plângi singur lacrimile.
Credincioasa mereu ti-e doar propria umbră.

………………………………..

Elegy to loneliness

Lonely are you, man, among all lonely,
lonely you were born, lonely you’ll be going.
A step or two you think walking with someone at your side,
but already he’s gone ahead or he is left behind,
a moment or two you think you hold
another, like you – but a stranger you’ve warmed!
You did not find eyes that could bear seeing you,
nor a hand that would not slide away from you.
Cold is the friend’s mind, the beloved soul’s cold.
Only lips moving are, merciless is the soul.
A playmate you find, not for truth’s joy or pain
your most ardent emotion must die in vain.
The friend, the beloved, only your own longing has created for
your delusion, that vanishes when you come close to.
So, lonely are you, man, among all lonely,
lonely you were born, lonely you’ll be going.
lonely you hide your faults and weep your tears lonely
always faithful to you is your own shadow only.

trad. M. M. Biela

SUOMENMAA / TARA FINLANDEI

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated Finnish-Romanian October 10, 2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SUOMENMAA / TARA FINLANDEI

Maa kunnasten ja laaksojen,
Mi on tuo kaunoinen?
Tuo hohteess’ kesäpäivien,
Tuo loisteess’ pohjan tulien,
Tuo talven, suven ihana,
Mi ompi soma maa?

Siell’ tuhansissa järvissä
Yön tähdet kimmeltää
Ja Kanteleitten pauhina
Siell’ kaikuu ympär’ kallioi’
Ja kultanummen hongat soi:
Se ompi Suomenmaa.

En milloinkaan mä unohtais
Sun lempeet’ taivastas,
En tulta heljän aurinkos,
En kirkast’ kuuta kuusistos,
En kaskiesi savua
Päin pilviin nousevaa.

Ol’ monta näissä laaksoissa
Tok’ aikaa ankaraa,
kun yöseen halla hyyrteinen
Vei vainiomme viljasen;
Mut toivon aamu, toivon työ
Taas poisti hallayön.

Viel’ monta näissä laaksoissa
on käynyt kauhua,
Kun sota surman, kuolon toi
Ja tanner miesten verta joi:
Mut sankarien kunnian
Sai Suomi loistavan.

Nyt ihanainen, kallis maa
On meidän ainiaan;
Tuoss’ aaltoileva peltomme,
Tuoss’ viherjäinen niittymme,
Tuoss’ metsiemme jylhä yö
Ja meriemme vyö!

Tuon lehtimetsän kaikunaa
Mi autuus kuullella,
kun valjetessa aamusen
Siell’ pauhaa torvi paimenen,
Tai koska laulain laaksossa
Käy impi illalla!

Mi autuus helmaas nukkua,
Sä uniemme maa,
Sä kehtomme, sä hautamme,
Sä aina uusi toivomme,
Oi Suomenniemi kaunoinen,
Sä iänkaikkinen!

Aleksis Kivi

……………………………….

TARA FINLANDEI

Ce-ntruchipari de idealuri
e-acest taram cu vai si dealuri?
Cu zori de vara ireala,
cu stralucirea boreala,
cu ierni albastre, veri arzand,
ce nume porti, pamant?

Acolo, in oglinzi de lacuri
stelele stralucesc de veacuri,
acolo, printre stanci, cu jale
rasuna Kantele, pe cale,
si-n camp de aur pini rasuna:
e Finlanda strabuna.

Nicicand sa uit nu as putea
albastru-ti cer, privirea ta,
a soarelui lumina blanda,
sau luna prin molizi lucinda,
sau focul viu, innoitor
‘naltandu-se la nor.

Caci fost-au in acest tinut
vremuri prea grele de trecut,
cand gerul noptii Nordului
furat-a mana campului,
dar truda si credinta-n cer
ucid al noptii ger.

Si multe, groaznice nevoi
s-au abatut in aste vai,
razboiul crud si sangeros
a adapat pamant setos
cu sange de eroi, dar ei
sunt gloria Finlandei.

Acum, taram, minune vie
e-a noastra tara pe vecie,
unde campia unduieste
si lunca verde straluceste,
si noaptea de paduri adanci,
si marile cu stanci.

Rasuna frunza codrului,
ferice-asculti chemarea lui,
cand zori de ziua se destrama,
buciumul de pastor te cheama,
sau cand pe vale vine seara,
cantand merge fecioara.

Sa dorm la tine-n poala iara,
a visurilor noastra tara,
al nostru leagan si mormant,
speranta noua, nou cuvant,
peninsula in cer, ofranda!
Tu, vesnica Finlanda!

in romaneste, Maria Magdalena Biela

Vaalin valta / Puterea de a alege

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated Finnish-Romanian July 6, 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vaalin valta / Puterea de a alege

 

Muilla olkoon vaalin valta,
mull’ ei ollut milloinkaan;
kuljin yltä taikka alta,
itseäni täytin vaan;
minkä tein, mun tehdä täytyi,
mit’ en tehnyt, voinut en;
vihdoin ilta hämärtäytyi,
lankes hetki hiljainen.

Pankaa patsas haudalleni,
kiveen tämä kirjoitus:
”Synkkä niinkuin sydämeni
oli mulle sallimus.
Itse iskin piistä tulta,
sytyin, hehkuin tuokion,
paloi paras laulu multa,
tässä tuhka tumma on.”

Eino Leino

———————–
Puterea de a alege

Poata altii sa aleaga,
eu nicicand nu am putut;
zbor, taras, o viata-ntreaga
doar pe mine m-am nascut;
ce-am facut, a fost porunca,
ce n-am facut, n-am putut;
in sfarsit in mine-i seara,
si-n tacere am cazut.

Pe mormant sa-mi puneti piatra,
si pe ea puneti a scrie:
“Ca si inima-mi amara
mi-a fost soarta pe vecie.
Singur cremenea am ars-o
ca sa luminez o clipa,
mi s-a ars al vietii cantec,
sunt cenusa din aripa”

In romaneste, Maria Magdalena

Mirror / Oglinda

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated Finnish-Romanian April 12, 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mirror / Oglinda

A white room and a party going on
and I was standing with some friends
under a large gilt-framed mirror
that tilted slightly forward
over the fireplace.
We were drinking whiskey
and some of us, feeling no pain,
were trying to decide
what precise shade of yellow
the setting sun turned our drinks.
I closed my eyes briefly,
then looked up into the mirror:
a woman in a green dress leaned
against the far wall.
She seemed distracted,
the fingers of one hand
fidgeted with her necklace,
and she was staring into the mirror,
not at me, but past me, into a space
that might be filled by someone
yet to arrive, who at that moment
could be starting the journey
which would lead eventually to her.
Then, suddenly, my friends
said it was time to move on.
This was years ago,
and though I have forgotten
where we went and who we all were,
I still recall that moment of looking up
and seeing the woman stare past me
into a place I could only imagine,
and each time it is with a pang,
as if just then I were stepping
from the depths of the mirror
into that white room, breathless and eager,
only to discover too late
that she is not there.

MARK STRAND
————————————————–
Oglinda

O camera alba si o petrecere continuand
si eu stand in picioare cu cativa prieteni
sub o oglinda mare cu rama aurita
care se inclina usor inainte
peste semineu.
Beam whiskey
si unii dintre noi, nesimtind durere,
incercau sa decida
in ce nuanta precisa de galben
soarele apunand ne colora bautura.
Am inchis ochii scurt timp,
apoi am privit in sus in oglinda:
o femeie in rochie verde se rezema
de peretele departat.
Parea distrasa,
degetele de la o mana
se jucau cu colierul,
si ea privea fix in oglinda,
nu la mine, ci peste mine, intr-un spatiu
ce putea fi umplut de cineva
inca nesosit, care in acel moment
putea sa inceapa calatoria
care l-ar fi dus eventual spre ea.
Apoi, deodata, prietenii mei
au spus ca e timpul sa mergem.
Asta a fost cu ani in urma,
si desi am uitat
unde am mers si cine eram noi toti,
imi amintesc inca acel moment privind in sus
si vazand femeia privind fix peste mine
intr-un loc pe care mi-l puteam doar imagina,
si de fiece data simt o durere,
ca si cum chiar atunci as pasi
din adancurile oglinzii
in acea camera alba, fara suflare si dornic
doar sa descopar prea tarziu
ca ea nu este acolo.

Maria Magdalena

SMÄRTAN / THE PAIN / DUREREA / KIPU

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated Finnish-English, translated Finnish-Romanian April 5, 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SMÄRTAN / THE PAIN / DUREREA / KIPU

 

Lyckan har inga sånger, lyckan har inga tankar, lyckan har ingenting.

Stöt till din lycka att hon går sönder, ty lyckan är ond.

Lyckan kommer sakta med morgonens susning i sovande snår,

lyckan glider undan i lätta molnbilder över djupblå djup,

lyckan är fältet som sover i middagens glöd

eller havets ändlösa vidd under baddet av lodräta strålar,

lyckan är maktlös, hon sover och andas och vet av ingenting…

Känner du smärtan? Hon är stark och stor med hemligt knutna nävar.

Känner du smärtan? Hon är hoppfullt leende med förgråtna ögon.

Smärtan ger oss allt vad vi behöva –

hon ger oss nycklarna till dödens rike,

hon skjuter oss in genom porten, då vi ännu tveka.

Smärtan döper barnen och vakar med modern

och smider alla de gyllene bröllopsringarna.

Smärtan härskar över alla, hon slätar tänkarens panna,

hon fäster smycket kring den åtrådda kvinnans hals,

hon står i dörren när mannen kommer ut från sin älskade…

Vad är det ännu smärtan ger åt sina älsklingar?

Jag vet ej mer.

Hon ger pärlor och blommor, hon ger sånger och drömmar,

hon ger oss tusen kyssar som alla äro tomma,

hon ger den enda kyssen som är verklig.

Hon ger oss våra sällsamma själar och besynnerliga tycken,

hon ger oss alla livets högsta vinster:

kärlek, ensamhet och dödens ansikte.

 

EDITH SÖDERGRAN

 

—————————-

THE PAIN

 

Happiness has no songs, happiness has no thoughts, happiness has nothing.

Smash your happiness until she breaks, for happiness is evil.

Happiness comes slowly in the sleepy sighs of morning bushes

happiness glides away in light clouds over deep blue depths,

happiness is the field that sleeps in the glow of afternoon

or the sea’s endless spirit under the bath of vertical rays,

happiness is powerless, she sleeps and breathes and knows nothing …

Do you feel the pain? she is strong and big with secretly clenched fists.

Do you feel the pain? she is hopefully smiling with weeping eyes.

The pain gives us everything we need –

she gives us the keys to the kingdom of death,

she pushes us through the gate, as we still hesitate.

The pain baptizes the children and awakes with the mother

and forges all the golden wedding rings.

the pain rules over everyone, she caresses the forehead of the thinker,

she fastens the jewelery around the loved woman’s neck,

she stands in the doorway when the man comes out from his beloved …

What else is the pain giving to her loved ones?

I know no more.

She gives beads and flowers, she gives songs and dreams,

she gives us a thousand kisses that are all empty,

she gives the only kiss that is real.

she gives us our rare souls and strange things,

she gives us all the highest benefits of life:

love, loneliness and the face of death.

———————————————-

DUREREA

 

Fericirea nu are cântece, fericirea nu are gânduri, fericirea nu are nimic.

Izbeste fericirea pana se face bucati , căci fericirea este diabolica.

Fericirea vine liniștit in suspinul adormit al tufisurilor diminetii.,

fericirea se îndepărtează în nori ușori peste adâncimile albastre,

fericirea este câmpul care doarme în strălucirea amiezei

sau spiritul infinit al mării scaldata in raze verticale,

fericirea este neputincioasă, ea doarme și respiră și nu știe nimic…

Simți durerea? E puternică și mare, cu pumnii stransi în secret.

Simți durerea? Zâmbește sperand cu ochii umflati de plans.

Durerea ne dă tot ce avem nevoie –

ea ne dă cheile împărăției morții,

ne împinge prin poarta, fiindcă încă ezităm.

Durerea botează copiii și vegheaza cu mama

și falsifica toate verighetele de aur.

Durerea stă la dispoziția tuturor, mangaie fruntea gânditorului,

ea leagă bijuteriile la gâtul femeii,

ea sta in pragul ușii când bărbatul pleaca de la iubita sa …

Ce altceva durerea dăruiește celor dragi?

Nu mai știu.

Oferă margele și flori, dă cantece și vise,

ea ne dă o mie de sărutări care sunt toate goale,

Ea dă singurul sărut care este real.

Ea ne dă sufletele noastre rare și lucrurile ciudate,

ea ne dă cele mai mari beneficii ale vieții:

iubirea, singurătatea și fața morții.

—————————————

KIPU

 

Onnella ei ole lauluja, onnella ei ole ajatuksia, onnella ei ole mitään.

Tönäise onneasi niin, että se särkyy, sillä onni on paha.

Onni tulee hiljaa aamun huokauksessa nukkuvissa pensaissa,

onni liukuu pois kevyissä pilvissä yli syvänsinisen syvyyden,

onni on tasanko, joka nukkuu keskipäivän hehkussa

tai meren loputon aava auringon pystysuorien säteiden paahteessa,

onni on voimaton, se nukkuu ja hengittää

eikä tiedä mistään mitään…

Tunnetko kivun? Se on vahva ja iso ja sillä on

kädet salaa nyrkissä.

Tunnetko kivun? Se hymyilee toiveikkaasti

itkettynein silmin.

Kipu antaa meille kaiken, mitä tarvitsemme –

se antaa meille kuoleman valtakunnan avaimet,

se työntää meidät portista sisään,

kun me vielä epäröimme.

Kipu kastaa lapset ja valvoo äidin kanssa

ja takoo kaikki kultaiset vihkisormukset.

Kipu hallitsee kaikkia, se siloittaa ajattelijan otsan,

se kiinnittää korun halutun naisen kaulaan,

se seisoo ovella, kun mies tulee ulos rakkaansa luota…

Mitä muuta kipu antaa rakkailleen?

En tiedä enää.

Se antaa helmiä ja kukkia, se antaa lauluja ja unelmia,

se antaa meille tuhat suudelmaa, jotka kaikki ovat tyhjiä,

se antaa ainoan todellisen suudelman.

Se antaa meille omalaatuiset sielumme ja

kummalliset mieltymyksemme,

se antaa meille kaikki elämän parhaat edut:

rakkauden, yksinäisyyden ja kuoleman kasvot.

Maria Magdalena

Skönhet / Frumusetea / Beauty

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated Finnish-English, translated Finnish-Romanian April 4, 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Skönhet / Frumusetea / Beauty

Vad är skönhet? Fråga alla själar –
skönhet är varje överflöd, varje glöd, varje överfyllnad och varje stort armod;
skönhet är att vara sommaren trogen och naken intill hösten;
skönhet är papegojans fjäderskrud eller solnedgången som bebådar storm;
skönhet är ett skarpt drag och ett eget tonfall: det är jag,
skönhet är en stor förlust och ett tigande sorgetåg,
skönhet är solfjäderns lätta slag som väcker ödets fläkt;
skönhet är att vara vällustig som rosen eller att förlåta allting för att solen skiner;
skönhet är korset munken valt eller pärlbandet damen får av sin älskare,
skönhet är icke den tunna såsen i vilken diktare servera sig själva,
skönhet är att föra krig och söka lycka,
skönhet är att tjäna högre makter.

EDITH SÖDERGRAN
—————————–
Frumusetea

Ce-i frumusetea? Intreaba orice suflet-
frumusetea este fiece revarsare, fiece stralucire, fiece abundenta
si fiece saracie mare;
frumusetea este sa fii credincios verii si sa mergi goala spre toamna;
frumusetea este penajul unui papagal ori apusul ce prevesteste furtuni;
frumusetea este o trasatura accentuata si tonul personal : Eu sunt
frumusetea este o grea pierdere si o procesiune funerala tacuta,
frumusetea este usoara miscare a evantaiului care trezeste briza destinului:
frumusetea este sa fii voluptuoasa precum un trandafir
ori sa ierti totul pentru ca soarele sa straluceasca;
frumusetea este crucea aleasa de calugar ori margelele
pe care o doamna le are de la iubitul ei
frumusetea nu este sosul fin din care care poetii se servesc,
frumusetea este sa porti un razboi spre a cauta fericirea,
frumusetea este sa servesti puteri mai inalte
——————————————–
Beauty
What is beauty? Ask All Souls –
beauty is every abundance, every glow, every overflow
and every great poverty;
beauty is to be faithful to the summer and go naked to the fall;
beauty is the parrot’s spring thrust or the sunset that invokes storm;
beauty is a sharp feature and its own tone: I am,
beauty is a great loss and a silent funeral,
beauty is the light stroke of the fan that awakens the fate;
beauty is to be voluptuous as the rose or to forgive everything for the sun to shine;
beauty is the cross chosen by a monk or the beaded
a lady gets from her lover,
beauty is not the thin sauce in which poets serve themselves,
beauty is to wage war and seek happiness,
beauty is to serve higher powers.

 

Maria Magdalena

Joskus / Candva / Sometimes

POSTED IN translated Finnish-English, translated Finnish-Romanian May 8, 2018

Rakkautta Helsingissä / Dragoste in Helsinki / Love in Helsinki

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, Spring, translated Finnish-English, translated Finnish-Romanian May 7, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rakkautta Helsingissä

Rakas,
mennään jonnekin missä
kukaan ei heittele meitä kuoleilla kaloilla.

Suudellaan kääpiötaatelipalmun katveessa
ja kerrostalojen katoilla.

Kaupunki avaa ovensa meille,
näyttää paikoja, joita me emme tunteneet,
joissa me olemme onnellisia.

Mennään siis sinne missä
kukaan ei heittele meitä kuoleilla kaloilla.
Jaakko Hämeen Anttila
…………………………………..
Iubite,
hai sa mergem undeva
unde nimeni nu arunca cu pesti morti in noi.

Sa ne sarutam la umbra curmalului
si pe acoperisurile blocurilor.

Orasul isi deschide usa pentru noi,
ne arata locuri, pe care nu le-am cunoscut,
unde suntem fericiti.

Sa mergem deci acolo unde
unde nimeni nu arunca cu pesti morti in noi.
……………………………..
Beloved,
let’s go there where
nobody throws dead fish at us.

Let’s kiss in the shade of the date palm
and on the roof of the flats.

The city opens its door to us,
shows us places which we didn’t know,
where we are happy.

so let’s go there
where nobody throws dead fish at us.
Romanian and English version,

Maria Magdalena Biela

Happy birthday, Hilja Onerva Lehtinen!

POSTED IN classic poetry, Spring, translated Finnish-English, translated Finnish-Romanian April 28, 2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tropiikin alla

 

Yhden kerran elämässä tuliruusu aukee
yhden yön se kukoistaa ja aamulla jo raukee
sill’ on syvä silmänluonti, kutsuva ja kuuma
sill’ on hehkuheteillänsä keskiöiden huuma

Sill’ on lehti verinen ja purppurainen huuli
sill’ on tuoksu huumava kuin kevätaron tuuli.
Taita tulikukkanen ja juo sen kuuma mesi
elä hetki, nauti hetki, kaadu paikallesi!

 

Hilja Onerva Lehtinen

 

At Tropics

Only once in a lifetime the fire-rose opens eyes
only for a night it blossoms and by morning dies
for one night it has a deep glance, calling through the fire
for one night its glowing stamens have midnight’s desire.

For one night a bloody petal and a purple lip,
its intoxicating fragrance, springtime’s windy steppe,
break away the burning flower, drink its essence fever
Live a moment, carpe diem and then die forever !

 

La Tropice

Un moment in asta viata roza de foc e in floare,
doar o noapte infloreste,pana dimineata moare;
isi deschide ochi adanci si chematori in soapte,
in stamine-are extazul miezului de noapte.

Are sangerie frunza, buze purpurii,
parfum orfic, vantul stepei verilor pustii.
Frange infocata floare, bea-i din trup esenta,
Fii si bucura-te-o clipa, uita-ti existenta!

 

Happy Eternity on your birthday, Hilja Onerva Lehtinen, the Fire Rose of Finnish poetry

 

 

Romanian and English versions by Maria Magdalena Biela

Kevättä / Primavara

POSTED IN translated Finnish-Romanian January 16, 2014

Kevättä

Eräs on – on eräs – eräs on,
lahja liian rikas kohtalon,
eräs, jonka vuosi katu tää
rakas on ja rakkahaksi jää.

 

Viheriöi, oksa keväinen!
Viheriöi, pyydän, rukoilen!
Kuule: kasvat kadun varrella,
jota eräs saattaa kulkea.

 

Puhkee kukkiin, oksa vihreä!
Ilahutajoka sydäntä
kevättuoksuasi tulvien
mutta erästä, ah, eniten.

 

Eila Kivikkaho

 

 

Primavara

Este unul – unul – numai unul.
Dar ce mi l-a dat Destinul bunul.
Unul, pentru care strada vaga
draga este, si ramane draga.

Inverzeste creanga-n primavara!
Te implor, te rog , fii verde iara!
Haide, cresti la margine de strada
poate “unul” meu o sa te vada!

Infloreste creanga verde cruda!
Fiecare inima surada.
Varsa crud miros de Primavara.
Pentru “unul” meu fii verde iara.

 

 

 

Traducere in Limba romana Maria Magdalena Biela

 

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