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Entries Tagged as 'WWI'

Constantin ROMAN – Love at the time of the Swine Flu (Part I of 2)

November 1st, 2016 · No Comments · Diary, Education, History, OPINION, PEOPLE, quotations, Short Stories & Cameos

Besides, psychologists and sundry therapists, even those with an address in Harley Street, were very strange creatures and odd balls. Often, they took such profession as a result of their own intractable psychological problems, in the first place. Look at Freud, for example, say no more!

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Poetry in Translation (CCCXVIII): Marjorie Lowry Christie PICKTHALL (1883-1922), ENGLAND/CANADA – “Marching Men”, “Soldaţi”

February 3rd, 2015 · No Comments · Books, Famous People, International Media, OPINION, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Under the level winter sky
I saw a thousand Christs go by.
They sang an idle song and free
As they went up to calvary.

Careless of eye and coarse of lip,
They marched in holiest fellowship.
That heaven might heal the world, they gave
Their earth-born dreams to deck the grave.

With souls unpurged and steadfast breath
They supped the sacrament of death.
And for each one, far off, apart,
Seven swords have rent a woman’s heart.
În iarna cerului de plumb,
Văzut-am mii de sfinţi trecând.
Cântau un imn să uite-amarul,
Purtând, cu fruntea sus, calvarul.

Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London
© 2015 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

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POETRY IN TRANSLATION (CCXLI): Herbert ASQUITH, (1881-1947), ENGLISH Poet, “The Fallen Subaltern”, “Soldatul-Erou”

December 23rd, 2013 · No Comments · International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

The Fallen Subaltern
Hebert Asquith
(1881-1947)

The starshells float above, the bayonets glisten;
We bear our fallen friend without a sound;
Below the waiting legions lie and listen
To us, who march upon their burial-ground.
Soldatul-Erou
Herbert Asquith
(1881-1947)

În cânt de clopote şi în sclipiri de săbii
Tovaraşul de arme-l îngropăm,
Iar în ţărână suflete-adormite
Ascultă cum păşim mormântul lor.
Rendered in Romanian by: Constantin ROMAN,
© 2013, Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

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Poetry in Translation (CV): Lt.-Col. Med. Dr. John Alexander MCCRAE (Canada) – In Flanders Fields; Pe-al Flandrei Câmp

June 2nd, 2012 · 2 Comments · International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

PE-AL FLANDREI CÂMP
[ Lt.-Col. Dr. John Alexander McCrae (1872-1918), Canada ]

Pe-al Flandrei câmp, maci înfloresc
Plecându-şi capul printre cruci,
Sub care fraţii nostri zac, sub ceruri
Unde-aud, deabea, un vajnic cânt de ciocârlii,
Prin bubuit de tunuri, nefiresc.

Noi suntem morţii, care nu demult
Ne bucuram de soarele din cer.
Iubeam şi eram mult-iubiţi, dar astăzi zacem amorţiţi,
Pe-al Flandrei câmp.

Luaţi mai departe facla dela noi:
Din braţul care cade, luaţi-o sus
Să puneţi capăt greului război.
De veţi cădea în luptă, n-om putea
Să mai dormim, dar macii roşii-n veci vor înflori
Pe-al Flandrei câmp.

Versiune in limba Română
Constantin ROMAN
Londra, 3 Iunie 2012
© Constantin Roman, London, 2012

In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae, May 1915

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Historical Background:
During the early days of the Second Battle of Ypres a young Canadian artillery officer, Lieutenant Alexis Helmer, was killed on 2nd May, 1915 in the gun positions near Ypres. An exploding German artillery shell landed near him. He was serving in the same Canadian artillery unit as a friend of his, the Canadian military doctor and artillery commander Major John McCrae.
As the brigade doctor, John McCrae was asked to conduct the burial service for Alexis because the chaplain had been called away somewhere else on duty that evening. It is believed that later that evening, after the burial, John began the draft for his now famous poem “In Flanders Fields”.

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