Monday, April 30, 2012

The Earth

by Lucian Blaga - 1919

On our back we were lying in the grass: you and i.
The sky melted like wax in the burning of the Sun
flowing along the fields like a river.
Pressing silence was mastering the Earth
and a question fell through my soul to its bottom.

Wouldn't have to tell
anything the Earth? All this-Earth
unforgivingly large and killingly mute,
nothing?

To better hear it i pressed my ear
Against the ground - doubtful and obedient -
And from underground i heard
your heart's noisy beat.

The Earth was answering.


Sunday, April 29, 2012

Cowboys & Indians

About maybe 5 years ago i had an email signature that sounded like this:

"It's easy to win when you own both teams".

I kept that signature for about a year or so despite some cries from my "friends" to remove it. Until myself i got bored with it.

Kinda like when i was kid and i was playing villains and deputies with my childhood friends in my home-town.

We were splitting in two teams by affinities and who knows by what other completely childish criteria and started chasing each other, nobody was getting hurt, all that mattered was the action. Maybe just our throats after all that yelling. And all the neighbours were ignoring us, it was our escape in doing all the crazy things we couldn't normally do. It was a privileged time.

But it's bad for you when you're not enrolled in none of the teams and have to play the role of the ball  in a game or that of a yo-yo that you buy in a toy store. And you have to also look sad and/or mad all the time which in a situation like this only comes naturally.

Gloss

by Mihai Eminescu - 1883

Time is passing, time is coming,
All are old and all are new;
What is right and what is wrong
Ask yourself and reason too;
Don't you hope and don't go fretting,
What is wave like wave is gone;
If it's tempting, if it's calling,
You remain as cold as stone.

Many happen right before us,
In our ears the sound of many,
We remember more or less
If we ever listen any?...
You stay put or step aside,
Yourself rediscovering,
When with senseless noise in flight
Time is passing time is coming.

Don't you let the needle leaving
The cold reason's balance center
For an instant that is changing
For the happiness's cover,
Which from its own death is born
For an instant in our view;
To who knows no need to warn
All are old and all are new.

Watchful as to a vaudeville
Find yourself in the big world:
May someone play even devil,
You will guess him afterwards,
If they're crying, if they fight,
In your corner stand alone
Understanding from their art
What is right and what is wrong.

From the past the future fathom
Of the same page are two sides,
See the next top at the bottom
Those who learn to read them right;
All that's been or yet to come
In the present we have too,
But of meaningless of them
Ask yourself and reason too.

Cause to same old means are subject
All the things that still exist,
And since old times to the present
World is happy, world is triste;
Other masks, the same old story,
Other voices, the same setting,
For this life is illusory
Don't you hope and don't go fretting.

Don't you hope when see deceivers
Build a bridge to their success,
You'll be left behind by losers,
Even if you are the best;
Don't you fear they'll try again
To their own to brake them bones,
Don't associate with them:
What is wave like wave is gone.

With the sweet song of a mermaid
World is whirling shiny nets
To change actors in the setting
Pulling you like a magnet;
Sneak aside and run away,
Without even noticing,
From your distant path away
If it's tempting if it's calling.

If they laugh you step aside,
If they curse you shut your mouth;
What you want with your advice,
If you see they're way too loud;
Let them say what they will say
Let them pass and let begone;
If the world has gone astray
You remain as cold as stone.

You remain as cold as stone,
If it's tempting, if it's calling:
What is wave like wave is gone,
Don't you hope and don't go fretting;
Ask yourself and reason too
What is right and what is wrong;
All are old and all are new:
Time is passing, time is coming.



Translator's note:

Very few or only those who ever tried know what a huge effort is to translate a poem and try to keep the same words while making them rhyme and rhythm. But translating from real poets is not as difficult because their language is bound towards universality, on a secret, karmic level. If only the translator can put aside the emotional charge involved with translating from the greatest.

The form of this translation, especially the number of syllables in each verse, is not perfect, as the original in Romanian, but i did my best trying to build an intercultural bridge.