classic poetry

SPERRIGES MORGEN / OBSTRUCTIVE TOMORROW

POSTED IN classic poetry, Spring March 13, 2018

Sperriges morgen / Obstructive tomorrow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The best translation of Paul Celan by MICHAEL HAMBURGER, SUFFOLK,

1979 AND 1987

Written in March

POSTED IN classic poetry, Spring March 13, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Written in March

The Cock is crowing,
The stream is flowing,
The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter,
The green field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding like one! 10

Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
The ploughboy is whooping–anon–anon:
There’s joy in the mountains;
There’s life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone!

William Wordsworth

Memory of a scent / Doftminne

POSTED IN classic poetry, Spring March 13, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Memory of a scent / Doftminne

The melancholy of Lapland lakes!
The dead wash of the low waves against the shore!
I remember them, I remember the boats shaped like peapods
I remember a scent of pipesmoke in the chilly clear air.
……………………………………………………………………………….
Doftminnne

DE lappländska sjöarnas melankoli!
De korta vågornas döda slag emot stranden!
Jagg minns dem,jag minns de ärtskidformade båtarna
jag minns en doft av piprök i kyligt klar luft.

GUNNAR EKELÖF

translated by Leonard Nathan

Gunnar Ekelöf

POSTED IN classic poetry, Spring March 13, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Songs of something else

 

“It was clear for me that I knew nothing. I took words one by one and tried to determine their values. I placed word beside word and succeeded after a great deal of trouble in piecing together a complete sentence – naturally with no meaning in it – but composed a word values. It was the meaning underneath I was looking for – a kind of ALCHIMIE DU VERBE”

 

Gunnar Ekelöf

Dear March – Come in –

POSTED IN classic poetry, Spring March 1, 2018

Dear March - Come in -


Dear March - Come in - 
How glad I am -
I hoped for you before -
Put down your Hat - 
You must have walked -
How out of Breath you are - 
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest -
Did you leave Nature well - 
Oh March, Come right upstairs with me -
I have so much to tell -

I got your Letter, and the Birds - 
The Maples never knew that you were coming -
I declare - how Red their Faces grew - 
But March, forgive me - 
And all those Hills you left for me to Hue - 
There was no Purple suitable - 
You took it all with you - 
 
Who knocks? That April -
Lock the Door -/blockquote
He stayed away a Year to call 
When I am occupied - 
But trifles look so trivial 
As soon as you have come
 
That blame is just as dear as Praise 
And Praise as mere as Blame -


Emily Dickinson

Coincidence / Coincidenta

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian February 9, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Coincidence

 

By the time you swear you’re his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying –
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.

Dorothy Parker
………………………………………………………………
Coicidenta

Pe cand juri c-a lui vei fi
Ofuri tanguite
el promite pe vecii
patima fierbinte
Lady, trebuie sa stii :
unul din doi minte !

 

Romanian version, Maria magdalena Biela

Life / Viata

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian February 7, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life

 

 

My life closed twice before its close;

It yet remains to see

If Immortality unveil

A third event to me,

 

 

So huge, so hopeless to conceive,

As these that twice befell.

Parting is all we know of heaven,

And all we need of hell.

 

 

 

Emily Dickinson

………………………………………………………………..

Viata

 

De doua ori cortina a cazut

ramâne a se vedea

de Nemurirea pe-a mea scena

un act trei va juca,

 

un act prea greu de conceput

ca cele de-altadat’,

Plecarea-i tot ce stim de Rai,

si tot ce vrem din Iad.

 

 

 

Romanian version, Maria Magdalena Biela

Oda (in metru antic) / Ode (in antique meter)

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated Romanian-English February 6, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oda (in metru antic)

Nu credeam să-nvăţ a muri vrodată;
Pururi tânăr, înfăşurat în manta-mi,
Ochii mei nălţam visători la steaua
Sîngurătăţii.

Când deodată tu răsărişi în cale-mi,
Suferinţă tu, dureros de dulce…
Pân-în fund băui voluptatea morţii
Ne’ndurătoare.

Jalnic ard de viu chinuit ca Nessus.
Ori ca Hercul înveninat de haina-i;
Focul meu a-l stinge nu pot cu toate
Apele mării.

De-al meu propriu vis, mistuit mă vaiet,
Pe-al meu propriu rug, mă topesc în flăcări…
Pot să mai re’nviu luminos din el ca
Pasărea Phoenix?

Piară-mi ochii turburători din cale,
Vino iar în sân, nepăsare tristă;
Ca să pot muri liniştit, pe mine
Mie redă-mă!
Mihai Eminescu
………………………………………
Ode (in antique meter)

 

Didn’t believe I’d ever learn to die;
Ever young, veiled in my toga,
My dreamy eyes I always raised to the star
Of solitude.

When suddenly you emerged in my way,
deep agony, you, painfully sweet…
I drank to the bottom the voluptuousness of death
merciless.

Doleful I burn alive tortured like Nessus.
Or like Hercules poisoned by his tunic;
My ardor to quench I cannot with all
waters of the sea.

Devoured by my own dream, I sigh and moan,
On my own pyre, I am melting in flames…
May I resurrect luminous from it, like
the Phoenix Bird?

Perish from my way the bewildering eyes,
Return to my heart, sweet indifference;
So I can peacefully die,
To me myself return!

English version, Maria Magdalena Biela

A song

POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian February 5, 2018

 

A song

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish you sat on the sofa
and I sat near.
the handkerchief could be yours,
the tear could be mine, chin-bound.
Though it could be, of course,
the other way around.

 

I wish you were here, dear
I wish you were here.
I wish we were in my car,
and you’d shift the gear.
we’d find ourselves elsewhere,
on an unknown shore.
Or else we’d repair
To where we’ve been before.

 

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish I knew no astronomy
when stars appear,
when the moon skims the water
that sighs and shifts in its slumber.
I wish it were still a quarter
to dial your number.

 

I wish you were here, dear,
in this hemisphere,
as I sit on the porch
sipping a beer.
It’s evening, the sun is setting;
boys shout and gulls are crying.
What’s the point of forgetting
If it’s followed by dying?
Joseph Brodsky
…………………………………..
Un cantec

Sa fii aici as vrea, draga mea
Sa fii aici as vrea.
As vrea ca eu sa pot sta
langa tine pe canapea.
Batista ar putea fi a ta
lacrima ar putea fi a mea, pe barbie
desi desigur s-ar putea
si invers sa fie.

 

Sa fii aici as vrea, draga mea
Sa fii aici as vrea.
as vrea sa fim in masina
si tu viteza ai schimba.
Altundeva ne-am putea regasi
pe-un tarm necunoscut
de nu, am putea reveni
la locul doar de noi stiut.

 

Sa fii aici as vrea, draga mea
Sa fii aici as vrea.
as vrea sa nu stiu astronomie
cand stelele-ar aparea
cand luna cutremura apa invinsa
ce ofteaza foind in somn bun
as vrea ca luna sa fie o fisa
telefonul sa-ti sun.

 

Sa fii aici , draga mea, as vrea
Sa fii in emisfera mea.
eu stand  pe veranda
o bere as savura..
E seara, soarele-asfinteste ;
baietii si pescarusii tipa.
uitarea ce sens mai meneste
daca in moarte totul se-nfiripa ?

In romaneste, Maria Magdalena Biela

Happy Anniversary, Mihai Eminescu!

POSTED IN classic poetry, Winter 2018 January 15, 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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