April, 2013

Tristesse / Sadness

POSTED IN translated French-English April 13, 2013

Tristesse

J’ai perdu ma force et ma vie,
Et mes amis et ma gaieté;
J’ai perdu jusqu’à la fierté
Qui faisait croire à mon génie.

Quand j’ai connu la Vérité,
J’ai cru que c’était une amie ;
Quand je l’ai comprise et sentie,
J’en étais déjà dégoûté.

Et pourtant elle est éternelle,
Et ceux qui se sont passés d’elle
Ici-bas ont tout ignoré.

Dieu parle, il faut qu’on lui réponde.
Le seul bien qui me reste au monde
Est d’avoir quelquefois pleuré.

Sadness

I lost my energy, my life,
I lost my friends and all my laughter
I lost so much up to my pride
who made me think I was a Master.

When I met the Truth one day
I thought to be a friend to trust
When I understood and saw its way
I already felt the disgust.

And yet it is everlasting
and those who really were passing
down here , they have all took no heed

God talks, we must try answering
The only left for me good thing
Is to have had a few times cried.

Alfred de Musset

English version by Maria Magdalena Biela

The Story is the Rose

POSTED IN contemporary poetry April 7, 2013

The Story is the Rose

I am no Philosopher
That has never been my role.
I only have a story
And that story is a Rose.

chapter 1
In fire gold is tested
I am tested by the gold
But I have no use for riches
When my story is a Rose

chapter 2
In the Name of Love
Into the fire of love I go
To burn away this image of
The story of the Rose

chapter 3
Melting into ashes
The mystery unfolds
Death is an illusion
And my story is my Rose

chapter 4
Should we meet together
Upon this storied Road
Please, sit down and share
Your story of the Rose

chapter 5
I have no love for grammar
Nor love for weighted tomes
I only: love our stories
Each story is a Rose.

chapter 6
When I hear your Voice
In any tongue or tone
I am the child listening
To a story of a Rose

chapter 7
I am an empty vessel
There is nothing that I know
I too but beg and plead
And offer up this Rose

Garnet Shaw Robbie April 2013

for Magdalena Biela

Falkenlied / The Falcon song

POSTED IN classic poetry April 6, 2013

Ich zôch mir einen valken mêre danne ein jâr.
dô ich in gezamete als ich in wolte hân
und ich im sîn gevidere mit golde wol bewant,
er huop sich ûf vil hôhe und floug in anderiu lant.

Sît sach ich den valken schône fliegen:
er fuorte an sînem fuoze sîdîne riemen,
und was im sîn gevidere alrôt guldîn.
got sende si zesamene die gerne geliep wellen sin!

I raised a falcon for more than a year
and when she was tame as I wished, and reared,
her feathers all gilded with golden strands,
she hopped up and flew off to other lands

since then other falcons I’ve seen in the sky
their jess straps of silk on their feet as they fly
all golden and scarlet and gleaming a feather
May God grant that true lovers come together.

by Der von Kürenberg

Translated version by Elwin Wirkala

The soul selects…

POSTED IN classic poetry April 6, 2013

The soul selects…

The Soul selects her own Society —
Then — shuts the Door —
To her divine Majority —
Present no more —

Unmoved — she notes the Chariots — pausing —
At her low Gate —
Unmoved — an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat —

I’ve known her — from an ample nation —
Choose One —
Then — close the Valves of her attention —
Like Stone —

Emily Dickinson