classic poetry
Romance sonámbulo / Somnambulist Romance / Romanta somnambula
POSTED IN classic poetry, translated Spanish-English, translated Spanish-Romanian March 31, 2019
Romance sonámbulo / Somnambulist Romance / Romanta somnambulaVerde que te quiero verde.
Verde viento. Verdes ramas.
El barco sobre la mar
y el caballo en la montaña.
Con la sombra en la cintura
ella sueña en su baranda,
verde carne, pelo verde,
con ojos de fría plata.
Verde que te quiero verde.
Bajo la luna gitana,
las cosas le están mirando
y ella no puede mirarlas.*
Verde que te quiero verde.
Grandes estrellas de escarcha,
vienen con el pez de sombra
que abre el camino del alba.
La higuera frota su viento
con la lija de sus ramas,
y el monte, gato garduño,
eriza sus pitas agrias.
¿Pero quién vendrá? ¿Y por dónde…?
Ella sigue en su baranda,
verde carne, pelo verde,
soñando en la mar amarga.*
Compadre, quiero cambiar
mi caballo por su casa,
mi montura por su espejo,
mi cuchillo por su manta.
Compadre, vengo sangrando,
desde los montes de Cabra.
Si yo pudiera, mocito,
ese trato se cerraba.
Pero yo ya no soy yo,
ni mi casa es ya mi casa.
Compadre, quiero morir
decentemente en mi cama.
De acero, si puede ser,
con las sábanas de holanda.
¿No ves la herida que tengo
desde el pecho a la garganta?
Trescientas rosas morenas
lleva tu pechera blanca.
Tu sangre rezuma y huele
alrededor de tu faja.
Pero yo ya no soy yo,
ni mi casa es ya mi casa.
Dejadme subir al menos
hasta las altas barandas,
dejadme subir, dejadme,
hasta las verdes barandas.
Barandales de la luna
por donde retumba el agua.*
Ya suben los dos compadres
hacia las altas barandas.
Dejando un rastro de sangre.
Dejando un rastro de lágrimas.
Temblaban en los tejados
farolillos de hojalata.
Mil panderos de cristal,
herían la madrugada.*
Verde que te quiero verde,
verde viento, verdes ramas.
Los dos compadres subieron.
El largo viento, dejaba
en la boca un raro gusto
de hiel, de menta y de albahaca.
¡Compadre! ¿Dónde está, dime?
¿Dónde está mi niña amarga?
¡Cuántas veces te esperó!
¡Cuántas veces te esperara,
cara fresca, negro pelo,
en esta verde baranda!*
Sobre el rostro del aljibe
se mecía la gitana.
Verde carne, pelo verde,
con ojos de fría plata.
Un carámbano de luna
la sostiene sobre el agua.
La noche su puso íntima
como una pequeña plaza.
Guardias civiles borrachos,
en la puerta golpeaban.
Verde que te quiero verde.
Verde viento. Verdes ramas.
El barco sobre la mar.
Y el caballo en la montaña.FEDERICO GARCIA LORCA
————————————-Somnambulist Romance
Green how much I love you green.
The green wind. The green branch seen.
The boat out there on the sea
on the mount my horse to be.
With the shade around her waist
on the balcony she dreams
her green flesh, her green hair chaste
eyes of cold silver that beams.
Green how much I love you green
Under the gypsy moon, gem
things are watching her, unseen
and she can not look at them.X
Green how much I love you green
Great stars of the frost, unknown
on the fish of shadow lean
that opens the path of dawn.
The fig rubs the wind to harden
with sandpaper of its branch,
and the mountain, and the marten,
ruffle their sour patch.
But who’ll come? And from where haste…?
She’s still on her balcony,
her green flesh, her green hair chaste
dreaming of the bitter sea.X
– Man, I would like now to trade
my horse for your house, my friend
for your mirror, my old saddle
my knife for your blanket cuddle.
My friend, I am badly bleeding,
from the mount of Cabra riding.
– If I could, young man, I vow
that deal would be closed right now.
But no longer I’m myself ,
Nor is my house where I dwell.
My friend, I would like to die
in my bed and not astray
A bed of steel, to be mine
with the sheets of canvas fine
Don’t you see I’m wounded cold
from the chest up to the throat?
– Three hundred dark roses sad
on your white shirt blossomed fad.
Your blood oozes, smells like pelt
round the corners of your belt
But no longer I’m myself,
Nor is my house where I dwell.
Let me climb at least, you see
up to the high balcony,
let me go up there, let me,
up to the green balcony.
Balustrades towards the moon
where the waters sound in tune.X
The two friends already climb
to high balconies with chime.
Leaving trail of blood behind
Leaving trail of tears to hide.
The tin lanterns quite aloof
were trembling on the roof.
Crystal tambourines, thousands sight
were striking at the dawn light.X
Green how much I love you green.
The green wind. The green branch seen.
The two friends together climb.
The stiff wind, letting with grime
in their mouth a taste dazzles
of gall, of mint and of basil.
My friend! Where is she, now tell?
Where is she, my bitter girl?
How long did she wait for you!
How long would she still, who knew?
Her green flesh, her green hair dreams
eyes of cold silver that beams.X
On the water of the well
the gypsy girl swings in spell
Her green flesh, her green hair dreams
eyes of cold silver that beams.
An icicle of moon suave
holds her up, water above
The night intimate became
like a small piazza frame.
And the drunken civil guard
at the door were knocking hard..
Green how much I love you green.
The green wind. The green branch seen.
The boat out there on the sea
on the mount my horse to be.– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Romanta somnambula
Verde, cât te iubesc, verde!
Verde vânt, ramura verde.
Barca pe-ale marii unde,
calul sus pe-un varf de munte.
valurita-n umbra tandra
ea viseaza pe veranda,
verde fata, parul verde,
ochi de-argint lumina vede.
Verde, cât te iubesc, verde!
Sub o luna de tiganca
lucrurile-o vad, dar ea
ea nu poate sa le vada.X
Verde, cât te iubesc, verde!
Stele mari ingeruite
vin cu pestele de umbra
calea zilei vor deschide.
Smochinul raneste vântul
cu creanga-i neslefuita,
iar muntele precum jderul
zbarleste acru vesmantul.
Cine-o veni? Si pe unde?
Pe veranda ea ramasa
verde fata, părul verde,
marea-amara ea viseaza.X
– Prietene, sa schimb as vrea
calul meu pe casa ta,
Saua mea pe-a ta oglinda
şi cuţitul pe manta.
Om bun, sangerand in sa
vin din muntii de la Cabra.
Tinere, dac-as putea,
acest targ l-as incheia.
Ce-am fost mi-este doar umbra
Casa-mi nu mai e a mea
-Prietene, sa mor lasat
Omeneste-n al meu pat
Din otel de-ar fi, ofranda,
cu cearsafuri de olanda.
Nu-mi vezi rana adancata
din piept pan’ la beregata?
– Trei sute de roze negre
alba ta camasa poarta.
Sangele ti se prelinge
Pan’ la brau, miroase-a soarta
Ce-am fost mi-este doar umbra,
Casa-mi nu mai e a mea
Sa urc, ma lasa macar
Pâna la veranda doar
Lasa-ma sa urc, ma crede
Pân’ sus, la veranda verde,
Balustrada catre luna
Unde apa tot rasuna.X
Cei doi greu se catarara
Pan’ la-naltele balcoane,
urma de sânge lasara
urma de lacrimi amara.
Tremurau pe-acoperisuri
felinarele din tabla.
Cristal tamburine, mii
bateau tare-n zori de zi.X
Verde, cât te iubesc, verde!
Verde vânt, ramura verde.
Cei doi împreuna urca
Vântul pe buze usuca
gust de fiere nenoroc
de menta si busuioc.
Prietene, unde e ea?
Unde-i trista, fata mea?
Cât timp ea te-a asteptat
Cat timp te-o mai astepta
Fata frageda, par smoala,
Pe veranda verde, goala!X
In adancul de fântâna
Privea tiganca nebuna
verde fata, parul verde,
ochi de-argint lumina vede.
pe-un turtur de noua luna
asupra apei atarna
Noaptea e intimitate
ca o mica piata-n noapte.
Garzile Civile, bete,
Loveau in poarta cu sete.Verde, cât te iubesc, verde!
Verde vânt, ramura verde.
Barca pe-ale marii unde,
calul sus pe-un varf de munte.Maria Magdalena
Casida IX DE LAS PALOMAS OSCURAS
POSTED IN classic poetry, translated Spanish-English March 30, 2019
Casida IX
DE LAS PALOMAS OSCURASA Claudio Guillén
Por las ramas del laurel
vi dos palomas oscuras.
La una era el Sol,
la otra la Luna.
“Vecinitas”, les dije,
“dónde está mi sepultura?”
“En mi cola”, dijo el Sol.
“En mi garganta”, dijo la Luna.
Y yo que estaba caminando
con la tierra por la cintura
vi dos águilas de nieve
y una muchacha desnuda.
La una era la otra
y la muchacha era ninguna.
“Aguilitas”, les dije,
“dónde está mi sepultura?”
“En mi cola”, dijo el Sol.
“En mi garganta”, dijo la Luna.
Por las ramas del laurel
vi dos palomas desnudas.
La una era la otra
y las dos eran ninguna.(Diván del Tamarit)
FEDERICO GARCIA LORCA
———————————————
Casida IX
OF THE DARK DOVES
By the branches of the laurel
I saw two dark pigeons.
One was the Sun,
the other the Moon.
“Little neighbours,” I said,
“Where is my grave?”
“On my tail,” said the Sun.
“In my throat,” said the Moon.
And I was walking
with the earth by the waist
I saw two snow eagles
and a naked girl.
One was the other
and the girl was none.
“Little eagles,” I said,
“Where is my grave?”
“On my tail,” said the Sun.
“In my throat,” said the Moon.
By the branches of the laurel
I saw two naked pigeons.
One was the other
and both were none.
Maria Magdalena
A Valediction / Un adio
POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian March 30, 2019
A Valediction / Un adioIf we must part,
Then let it be like this.
Not heart on heart,
Nor with the useless anguish of a kiss;
But touch mine hand and say:
“Until to-morrow or some other day,
If we must part”.Words are so weak
When love hath been so strong;
Let silence speak:
“Life is a little while, and love is long;
A time to sow and reap,
And after harvest a long time to sleep,
But words are weak.”Ernest Christopher Dowson
——————————
Un adioDe-o fi sa pleci
Atunci sa fie-asa.
Nu-n inimi deci,
Nici inutilul chin de-a saruta ;
Atinge-mi mana doar si zi-mi deodata;
“Pe maine sau poate pe alta data,
De-o fi sa pleci”Vorba apune
Cand dragostea avu asa putere ;
Tacerea spune:
“dragostea-i lunga, viata-i o parere
un timp spre-a semana si a cosi,
dupa recolta lung timp spre-a dormi.”Vorba apune.
Maria Magdalena
i love you much(most beautiful darling) / te iubesc mult (draga mea cea mai frumoasa)
POSTED IN classic poetry, translated English-Romanian March 27, 2019
i love you much(most beautiful darling)
i love you much(most beautiful darling)
more than anyone on the earth and i
like you better than everything in the sky-sunlight and singing welcome your coming
although winter may be everywhere
with such a silence and such a darkness
noone can quite begin to guess(except my life)the true time of year-
and if what calls itself a world should have
the luck to hear such singing(or glimpse such
sunlight as will leap higher than high
through gayer than gayest someone’s heart at your eachnearness)everyone certainly would(my
most beautiful darling)believe in nothing but love
e.e. cummings
——————————————
te iubesc mult (draga mea cea mai frumoasa)
te iubesc mult (draga cea mai frumoasa)
mai mult decât oricine pe pamânt si
imi placi mult mai mult decat totul din cer-lumina soarelui si cantatul intampina sosirea-ti
desi iarna poate fi peste tot
cu o astfel de tacere si un asemenea întuneric
nimeni nu poate macar incepe sa ghiceasca(cu exceptia vietii mele) timpul adevarat al anului –
si daca ceea ce se numeste o lume ar avea
norocul sa auda astfel de canturi ( ori sa zareasca
asa lumina pe cand ar sari mai inalt decat inaltul
prin inima cuiva mai vesela decat cea mai vesela la fieceapropiere a ta) toti cu siguranta ar face-o
(draga mea cea ma frumoasa) sa crezi doar in iubire
Maria Magdalena
La mia fiamma / My flame
POSTED IN classic poetry, translated Italian-English March 25, 2019
La mia fiamma / My flame
La mia fiamma,
che niun aspro vento ha mai domata,
ancora guizza e lotta
che morte non già la trovi spenta,
accesa vuole
migrare in altra terra di sorpresa,
pendula oscillante nell’etere,
là donde venne, patria chiara,
e forse saperne il nome.
Sibilla Aleramo
——————————————–
My flameMy flame,
that no harsh wind has ever tamed,
still flicker and fight
so death doesn’t already find it turned off,
turned on wants
to migrate to another land by surprise
pendulum oscillating in the ether
whence it came, clear homeland
and perhaps learn the name.
Maria Magdalena
Heidenröslein / Frail Rose of the Field
POSTED IN classic poetry, translated German-English March 23, 2019
Heidenröslein / Frail Rose of the Field
Sah ein Knab’ ein Röslein stehn,
Röslein auf der Heiden,
War so jung und morgenschön,
Lief er schnell es nah zu sehn,
Sah’s mit vielen Freuden.
Röslein, Röslein, Röslein rot,
Röslein auf der Heiden.
Knabe sprach: “Ich breche dich,
Röslein auf der Heiden.”
Röslein sprach: “Ich steche dich,
Dass du ewig denkst an mich,
Und ich will’s nicht leiden.”
Röslein, Röslein, Röslein rot,
Röslein auf der Heiden.
Und der wilde Knabe brach
‘s Röslein auf der Heiden;
Röslein wehrte sich und stach,
Half ihr doch kein Weh und Ach,
Musste es eben leiden.
Röslein, Röslein, Röslein rot,
Röslein auf der Heiden.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
—————————–
Frail rose of the field
Once a boy a frail rose saw
Frail rose of the field,
It was young without a flaw
near it he had to go
charmed by her he kneeled,
Frail rose, frail rose, frail rose red,
Frail rose of the field.
Then the boy: “I shall pick thee,
Frail rose of the field.”
The frail rose: “I shall stick thee,
That you’ll always think of me,
And, I’ll have a shield.”
Frail rose, frail rose, frail rose red,
Frail rose of the field.
Still the rough boy the rose picked,
Frail rose of the field.
The frail rose fought thus and pricked,
No pain could help to inflict,
Alas, fate was sealed.
Frail rose, frail rose, frail rose red,
Frail rose of the field.
Maria Magdalena
La Rosa
POSTED IN classic poetry, Summer August 1, 2018
La Rosala inmarcesible rosa que no canto,
la que es peso y fragancia,
la del negro jardín en la alta noche,
la de cualquier jardín y cualquier tarde,
la rosa que resurge de la tenue
ceniza por el arte de la alquimia,
la rosa de los persas y de Ariosto,
la que siempre está sola,
la que siempre es la rosa de las rosas,
la joven flor platónica,
la ardiente y ciega rosa que no canto,
la rosa inalcanzable.Jorge Luis Borges
Les nourritures spirituelle
POSTED IN classic poetry, Summer July 30, 2018
Les nourritures spirituelle
Magdalena
Layla and Majnun
POSTED IN classic poetry, Summer July 30, 2018
Layla and MajnunShow me
the most damaged
parts of your soul
and I will show you
how it still shines like gold…
Nizami
La o fotografie
POSTED IN classic poetry July 6, 2018
La o fotografie
Mă uit privind fotografia
În care chipu-ţi stă cuprins
Şi de pe care vitregia
Nici o lumină n-a desprins.Eşti tot aşa ca altădată,
Precum erai şi te-am visat.
De ramă veşnic apărată,
La tine timpul n-a intrat.Prin marginile ei de piatră
Cu care dârz te-mprejmuii,
Chiar de-ar fi vrut să te lovească,
Duşmanul n-a putut lovi.Privesc la tine, cea de-afară
Ce-n nici o ramă nu te-ai vrut
Şi peste care timpul, fiară,
Ca toate fiarele-a trecut.De-ar fi să te găsesc acuma
După portret şi nu te-aş şti,
Aş răscoli întreaga lume
Şi nu te-aş mai putea găsi.Virgil Carianopol
