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Poem #1:
what is even important enough to say?
i felt only an insensible thing.
debased, delusion reinforcing it:
a scorchingly sweet, serene, and peaceful bliss.
promising more than mere meager seconds,
days, weeks, or a quick meandering course--
ending in thorny thickets.
call me uncharted, far from the course:
in brisk, coarse, torrentially stormy seas,
atop a shambling ship of shoddy integrity.
which in spite of fortnights lacking light
and waves frighteningly breaking breathtakingly overboard,
was assured, come the morn, to set its sails once more,
abhorred by the sun's single eye of a dry, leering scorn.
Poem #2:
a briefly bellowing spring yielding to autumn typhoons,
you were a fiercely bitter, flitting and fleeting interlude;
intense, still, even once subdued.
sworn to furtive temperament, and
shifting mercurial mood--
the whole world's astir when it speaks of you.
in incoherent slurs, quite often obtuse,
acute quips insisting innocence
belie beleaguered realities beneath detailing
a dearth of indigent lies--
i implicitly spy that which lies inside deceitful eyes.
promised a world, forcefulness equipped to tip it--
received reprieve of "oh no, not me!" -- so insipid.
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Desem ki
Desem ki vakitlerden bir nisan akşamıdır,
Rüzgârların en ferahlatıcısı senden esiyor,
Sende seyrediyorum denizlerin en mavisini,
Ormanların en kuytusunu sende gezmekteyim,
Senden kopardım çiçeklerin en solmazını,
Toprakların en bereketlisini sende sürdüm,
Sende tattım yemişlerin cümlesini.
Desem ki sen benim için,
Hava kadar lazım,
Ekmek kadar mübarek,
Su gibi aziz bir şeysin;
Nimettensin, nimettensin!
Desem ki...
İnan bana sevgilim inan,
Evimde şenliksin, bahçemde bahar;
Ve soframda en eski şarap.
Ben sende yaşıyorum,
Sen bende hüküm sürmektesin.
Bırak ben söyleyeyim güzelliğini,
Rüzgârlarla, nehirlerle, kuşlarla beraber.
Günlerden sonra bir gün,
Şayet sesimi farkedemezsen,
Rüzgârların, nehirlerin, kuşların sesinden,
Bil ki ölmüşüm.
Fakat yine üzülme, müsterih ol;
Kabirde böceklere ezberletirim güzelliğini,
Ve neden sonra
Tekrar duyduğun gün sesimi gökkubbede,
Hatırla ki mahşer günüdür
Ortalığa düşmüşüm seni arıyorum.
Cahit Sıtkı Tarancı
-------------------------------------
Translate
If I say that
If I say that time is a night of April
The most refreshing wind is blowing from you
I am watching the bluest of seas at you
I am wandering most sheltered of forests at you
I picked up the most unwilting of flowers from you
I plowed the most abundant of soils at you
I tasted all of fruits at you
If I say that you are
Neccessary for me as much as air
Blessed as much as bread
and a dear thing like water.
You are of blessing, blessing
If I say that...
Believe me my love,believe,
You are a festival in my home, you are a spring in my garden
And an old wine on my dinner table
I live in you
You are ruling in me.
Let me to say your beauty
With winds, with rivers, with birds
One day after days
If you can´t notice my voice
From the voices of winds, rivers, birds
Know that I have died.
But don´t be upset, be at ease;
In grave I have bugs memorize your beauty
After a while
One day when you heard my voice at the vault of heaven
Remember it is judgment day
I have been looking for you around
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19th century's Brazilian Poet. Influenced by Lord Byron and Alfred de Musser, among others.
MEU SONHO
Álvares de Azevedo
EU
Cavaleiro das armas escuras,
Onde vais pelas trevas impuras
Com a espada sanguenta na mão?
Por que brilham teus olhos ardentes
E gemidos nos lábios frementes
Vertem fogo do teu coração?
Cavaleiro, quem és? — O remorso?
Do corcel te debruças no dorso…
E galopas do vale através…
Oh! da estrada acordando as poeiras
Não escutas gritar as caveiras
E morder-te o fantasma nos pés?
Onde vais pelas trevas impuras,
Cavaleiro das armas escuras,
Macilento qual morto na tumba?…
Tu escutas… Na longa montanha
Um tropel teu galope acompanha?
E um clamor de vingança retumba?
Cavaleiro, quem és? que mistério…
Quem te força da morte no império
Pela noite assombrada a vagar?
O FANTASMA
Sou o sonho de tua esperança,
Tua febre que nunca descansa,
O delírio que te há de matar!…
Thumbs Up |
Received: 37 Given: 29 |
19th century's Brazilian Poet. Influenced by Lord Byron and Alfred de Musser, among others.
MEU SONHO
Álvares de Azevedo
EU
Cavaleiro das armas escuras,
Onde vais pelas trevas impuras
Com a espada sanguenta na mão?
Por que brilham teus olhos ardentes
E gemidos nos lábios frementes
Vertem fogo do teu coração?
Cavaleiro, quem és? — O remorso?
Do corcel te debruças no dorso…
E galopas do vale através…
Oh! da estrada acordando as poeiras
Não escutas gritar as caveiras
E morder-te o fantasma nos pés?
Onde vais pelas trevas impuras,
Cavaleiro das armas escuras,
Macilento qual morto na tumba?…
Tu escutas… Na longa montanha
Um tropel teu galope acompanha?
E um clamor de vingança retumba?
Cavaleiro, quem és? que mistério…
Quem te força da morte no império
Pela noite assombrada a vagar?
O FANTASMA
Sou o sonho de tua esperança,
Tua febre que nunca descansa,
O delírio que te há de matar!…
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Mar Português by Fernando Pessoa.
Ó mar salgado, quanto do teu sal
São lágrimas de Portugal!
Por te cruzarmos, quantas mães choraram,
Quantos filhos em vão rezaram!
Quantas noivas ficaram por casar
Para que fosses nosso, ó mar!
Valeu a pena? Tudo vale a pena
Se a alma não é pequena.
Quem quere passar além do Bojador
Tem que passar além da dor.
Deus ao mar o perigo e o abismo deu,
Mas nele é que espelhou o céu.
----------------------------------------------
Oh salty sea, how much of your salt
Are tears of Portugal!
To get across you, how many mothers cried,
How many sons prayed in vain!
How many brides were never to marry
In order to make you ours, oh sea!
Was it worth it? Everything is worthy
If the soul is not small.
Who wants to go beyond Bojador,(*)
Must go beyond sufferance.
God gave the sea peril and abyss,
Yet upon it He also mirrored the sky.
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