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Entries Tagged as 'poet'

Poetry in Translation (LXXVIII): Philip Larkin (1922-1985) – “Heads in the Women’s Ward” (Azil)

October 2nd, 2010 · 2 Comments · PEOPLE, Poetry, Translations

Philip Larkin
Heads in the Women’s Ward (1972)

On pillow after pillow lies
The wild white hair and staring eyes;

Jaws stand open; necks are stretched
With every tendon sharply sketched;

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Poetry in Translation (LXXVII): W.B. Yeats (1865-1939) – “Cloths of Heaven” (Manta Celesta:

October 1st, 2010 · 1 Comment · PEOPLE, Poetry, Translations

W.B. Yeats (1865–1939)

Poet Irlandez, Premiul Nobel pentru Literatura

MANTA CELESTA

Manta celesta de as fi avut

Cu flori de aur si margarint,

Pe-a noptii straie, de-azur cernut,

In umbre cu sclipire de argint,

Sub pasii tai de mult le-as fi tinut.

Dar fiind sarac, doar vise de pripas

Mai pot s-astern pe drum, in calea-ti lunga:

Ai grije, cand pasesti, sa nu se franga,

Caci este totul ce mi-a mai ramas!

(Versiune in limba Romana – Constaantin ROMAN, Londra, Copyright 2010, All rights reserved)

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Poetry in Translation (LXXIV): Marin Sorescu (b. 1950) – “Exile”

March 26th, 2010 · 1 Comment · PEOPLE, Poetry, Translations

EXIL (Marin Sorescu)
Au inflorit cartofii in Marmatia / si voi tocmai acum plecati spre sud /cand ceru-i aiurit si descusut / cand se confunda bocetul cu natia ? /

EXILE

As the potato flowers are in bloom
You take the road which ever us do part?
Now that the sky is gray and overcast
And tears confound the country and the doom?

The grief will be for you the new abode
Perhaps a warmer grave and newer ethos
We shall unearth those emerald potatoes
Those precious stones dug out from where we hoed.

What kind of God preserved in secret heavens
May still be glad to gather our bones
With you, with us we cry on our tombs
With you with us a story ends in ruins.
(Translated from Romanian by Constantin ROMAN)

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Poetry in Translation (LXXIII-LXXV): Al. O. Teodoreanu, aka ‘Pastorel’ – “At Stalin’s Death”

February 12th, 2010 · No Comments · PEOPLE, Poetry, Translations

At Stalin’s death I cried my eyes out / The secret being truly gritty: / We’ll have instead to go about / Licking the arse of a Committee.

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Nobel prize Winner – Exorting Romania to be honest about its Communist Past

October 8th, 2009 · No Comments · Diaspora, PEOPLE

Herta MUELLER 2009 Nobel Prize for Literature (Romanian-born German from the Banat of Timisoara, living in Berlin) ——————————————————————————————— Herta Müller has a sharp sense of realities, as demonstrated in her article published in Tagesspeil of 17 July 2008, which is echoed by the Frankfurter Rundschau: “It is a scandal that Romania put forward as its [...]

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Poetry in Translation (XLVIII-LIII): Josef Ozga MICHALSKI (1919-2002, Polonia): Sase poezii

August 22nd, 2006 · Comments Off · PEOPLE, Poetry, Translations

Josef Ozga MICHALSKI, Poland (1919-2002) poems Romanian translation
(In roamaneste de Constantin ROMAN,
Bucuresti 1965)

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Poetry in Translation (XXXVII): Bernardo ATXAGA – Poet Basc (n.1951), “VIATA” (Bizitzak)

June 16th, 2006 · Comments Off · PEOPLE, Poetry, Translations

Viata ne-apare
ca un sir de contraste:
Cand nu e-o jungla
E complect desarta
de ori ce vis.

La fel ca Toamna asta,
Cu ferigi palite,
cand i-e dor de
Zapada
si de haite de Lupi
sa fie despuiata
ca infinitul iarna.

Iar Soarelui, Soarelui i-e dor
de raza de lumina pura
orbind ca sageata memoria
Albinelor.

In timp ce Noaptea,
Noaptea viseaza doar
la prima clipa
Cand a fost noapte.

Si-asa
ca Nici o data
sau
ca Intotdeauna
imi bate inima-n
ritmul
acestor doua extreme, fiind, din pacate,
tot ce-mi doresc.

Tradus in Romaneste de Constantin Roman
dupa versiunea Engleza de Amaia Gabantxo
Londra SW1, Iunie 2006

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Poetry in Translation (XXIX – XXXIII): Flavia TEOC (b. 1971) – Five Poems

May 15th, 2006 · Comments Off · PEOPLE, Poetry, Translations

THE SONG OF THE HAMSTER’S COAT

As of today
You are free to go downtown.
The trees’ green tops
Will bend like grass blades
The hot shoulder of the beautiful woman
Is only a passing idol
You, brown hamsters,
You will soon learn this thing
Like all real men do.

CANTECUL HAINEI DE HARCIOG

De azi
Aveti voie sa iesiti in oras.
Varfurile verzi ale copacilor
Se vor apleca asemeni firului de iarba
Umarul cald al femeii frumoase
E doar un idol de-o clipa
Voi, harciogii bruni
Veti invata acest lucru
Ca toti barbatii adevarati.

END OF SUMMER

The sleepy summer presses in its palm
My old cup of tea
With a chipped rim.
August is almost ancient
With his short-sighted eyes fixed on the hot
Brew, while its thoughts are already chasing
The hunt in the polar plains.
The sleepy summer could hardly
Suppress a yawn, as wide as the Blue
Sea.
From now on, thinking of herself,
She will be less talkative.

SFARSIT DE VARA

Somnoroasa vara strange-n palme
Ceasca mea de ceai
Cu buza plesnita.
August e aproape batran
Si-a fixat ochii miopi in licoarea
Fierbinte, dar gandul lui a inceput
Vanatoarea la poluri.
Somnoroasa vara abia si-a
Oprit un cascat, mare cat golful
Albastru.
Vorbind despre sine, de-acum
N-o sa mai fie atat de guraliva.

SUNDAY

It’s nine o’clock
The well-fed cat will fall asleep
Under the red sun.

Afternoon is a fragile realm
The block of butter is melting
In the hot pan.

At seven in the evening, I will bathe
In the pool of my chest my heavy face
Sulphur-like flaxen, lone as the mist.

At ten I say my prayers.
But till tomorrow
All will be forsaken.

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Poetry in Translation (XXIV): Ion Caraion – “Seul au Monde” / “Singur pe lume”

November 12th, 2005 · Comments Off · Diaspora, PEOPLE, Poetry, Translations

- Où vous emmènnent-ils, Monsieur?
- Dans le jardin, mon rêve.
- Pour quoi faire, Monsieur?
- Pour me fusiller, mon rêve.
- Parce qu’ils ont des balles, Monsieur?
- Parce qu’ils ont le temps, mon rêve.
- Où vous enterreront-ils, Monsieur?
- Sous la neige, mon rêve.
- Avez-vous peur, Monsieur?
- Je trouve ça révoltant, mon rêve.
- Qui doit-on prévenir, Monsieur?
- Les feux de l’enfer, mon rêve.
- Ça va aller quand même, Monsieur?
- Il fera nuit, mon rêve.
- Qui est votre plus proche parent, Monsieur?
- Je suis seul au monde, mon rêve.
- Voulez-vous boire un verre, Monsieur?
- Qu’est-ce que ça va me coûter, mon rêve?
- Peu importe le prix, Monsieur.
- Le calice est-il empoisonné, mon rêve?
- Vous n’en voulez pas, Monsieur?
- Casse-le en mille morceaux, mon rêve!
- Doit-on vous pleurer, Monsieur?
- Inutile, mon rêve.
- Bonne nuit, Monsieur.
- Dormons ensemble, mon rêve!
- Je dors seul, Monsieur.

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Alone in the World

by Ion Caraion. Translated by Constantin Roman.

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Poetry in Translation (XXI): Rodica Draghincescu, (b. 1962) – “Nocturnal Embrace”

April 10th, 2005 · Comments Off · Books, PEOPLE, Poetry, Translations

Nocturnal embrace (II)
(Caresse nocturne II)

Evening is set

I swim to the bottom of my inner self

like a sea creature

I avoid memory

Under the bridge of solitude

I steal more secretly than the night

when I go hungry of limbo

I derail amongst the calendar days

tattooing their bodies with embers

“whom amongst you

will come to look for me?”

(Translated from French by Constantin ROMAN)
April 2005

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