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Thread: Post poems of your native tongue

  1. #21
    Diplomat of the Holy Crown of Saint Stephen Sagitta Hungarica's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Mordid View Post
    Adam Asnyk, 18381897

    Do Mlodych

    Szukajcie prawdy jasnego plomienia!
    Szukajcie nowych, nie odkrytych drog...
    Za kazdym krokiem w tajniki stworzenia
    Coraz sie dusza ludzka rozprzestrzenia,
    I wiekszym staje sie Bog!

    Choc otrząśniecie kwiaty barwnych mitow,
    Choc rozproszycie legendowy mrok,
    Choc mgle urojen zedrzecie z blekitow,
    Ludziom niebianskich nie zbraknie zachwytow,
    Lecz dalej siegnie ich wzrok!

    Kazda epoka ma swe wlasne cele
    I zapomina o wczorajszych snach...
    Niescie wiec wiedzy pochodnie na czele
    I nowy udzial bierzcie w wiekow dziele,
    Przyszlosci podnoscie gmach!

    Ale nie depczcie przeszlosci oltarzy,
    Choc macie sami doskonalsze wzniesc;
    Na nich sie jeszcze swiety ogien żarzy
    I milosc ludzka stoi tam na strazy,
    I wy winniscie im czesc!

    Ze swiatem, ktory w ciemnosc już zachodzi
    Wraz z calą tęcza idealnych snow,
    Prawdziwa mądrosc niechaj was pogodzi
    I wasze gwiazdy, o zdobywcy młodzi,
    W ciemnosciach pogasna znow!

    In English....:



    TO THE YOUNG

    The brightening flame of truth pursue,
    Seek to discover ways no human knows.
    With every secret now revealed to you,
    The soul of man expands within the new.
    And God still bigger grows!

    Although you may the flowers of myths remove,
    Although you may the fabulous dark disperse,
    And tear the mist of fancy from above;
    Therell be no shortage of new things to love,
    Farther in the universe.

    Each epoch has its special goals in store,
    And soon forgets the dreams of older days.
    So, bear the torch of learning in the fore,
    And join the making of new eras lore.
    The House of the Future raise!

    But trample not the altars of the past!
    Although you shall much finer domes erect.
    The holy flames upon the stones still last,
    And human love lives there and guards them fast,
    And them you owe respect!

    Now with the world that vanishes from view,
    Dragging down the perfect rainbow of delight,
    Be gently reconciled in wisdom true.
    Your stars, oh, youthful conquerors, they, too,
    Will fade into the night!
    As in my commentary to the Welsh poem, this must definitely sound much better spoken, than in written form. Those who put down the laws of written Polish didn't cared much about the esthetics it seems to me.

    Justice for Hungary!

  2. #22
    Latvietis Waidewut's Avatar
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    Kā gulbji balti padebei iet by Eduards Veidenbaums

    Kā gulbji balti padebei iet,
    Tiem vēlētos es līdzi tālu skriet
    Tur tālumā, kur ziemas nepazīst,
    Kur rozes mūam zied un nenovīst.
    Kam velti laimību kāro tu, sirds?
    Met projām reiz cerības tumajā kapā:
    No saulainām lejām ir mirstīgais ķirts,
    Tam jādzīvo asaru dūksnājā slapjā,
    Kur dzeli un cirvji bez rimanās klaudz,
    Pēc maizes, pēc pārtikas vergi kur sauc,
    No stiprākā samīts kur vājākais lūzt,
    Un asins un sviedri ik dienas kur plūst

  3. #23
    Diplomat of the Holy Crown of Saint Stephen Sagitta Hungarica's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Waidewut View Post
    Kā gulbji balti padebei iet by Eduards Veidenbaums

    Kā gulbji balti padebei iet,
    Tiem vēlētos es līdzi tālu skriet
    Tur tālumā, kur ziemas nepazīst,
    Kur rozes mūam zied un nenovīst.
    Kam velti laimību kāro tu, sirds?
    Met projām reiz cerības tumajā kapā:
    No saulainām lejām ir mirstīgais ķirts,
    Tam jādzīvo asaru dūksnājā slapjā,
    Kur dzeli un cirvji bez rimanās klaudz,
    Pēc maizes, pēc pārtikas vergi kur sauc,
    No stiprākā samīts kur vājākais lūzt,
    Un asins un sviedri ik dienas kur plūst
    Interestingly I was reminded of Polish, Lithuanian, Estonian, Latin when reading this.

    Justice for Hungary!

  4. #24
    Super Moderator Sui Generis's Avatar
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    Lavinia

    Sana gitme demeyeceğim.
    şyorsun ceketimi al.
    Gnn en gzel saatleri bunlar.
    Yanımda kal.

    Sana gitme demeyeceğim.
    Gene de sen bilirsin.
    Yalanlar istiyorsan yalanlar syleyeyim,
    İncinirsin.

    Sana gitme demeyeceğim,
    Ama gitme, Lavinia.
    Adını gizleyeceğim
    Sen de bilme, Lavinia.

    zdemir Asaf

    ---------------------------

    Translate

    I shall not ask you not to go.
    You're cold, take my coat.
    These are the loveliest hours of the day.
    Stay at my side.

    I shall not ask you not to go.
    Still, you know best.
    Lies if you wish, lies I shall tell.
    Your feelings would be hurt.

    I shall not ask you not to go,
    But do not go Lavinia.
    I shall keep your name..
    You too, don't know, Lavinia.

    ---------------------------------

    "I shall keep your name..
    You too, don't know, Lavinia."

    Lavinia is a nickname was given by poet for girl his liked.

    One song for this poem


  5. #25
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    One of my favourite poems.


    Es-tu brune ou blonde ?
    Sont-ils noirs ou bleus,
    Tes yeux ?
    Je n'en sais rien, mais j'aime leur clart profonde,
    Mais j'adore le dsordre de tes cheveux.

    Es-tu douce ou dure ?
    Est-il sensible ou moqueur,
    Ton cœur ?
    Je n'en sais rien, mais je rends grce la nature
    D'avoir fait de ton cœur mon matre et mon vainqueur.

    Fidle, infidle ?
    Qu'est-ce que a fait.
    Au fait ?
    Puisque, toujours dispos couronner mon zle
    Ta beaut sert de gage mon plus cher souhait.

    Paul Verlaine


    Translate:

    Are you blonde or brunette?
    Are they black or blue,
    Your eyes ?
    I do not know, but I love their deep clarity,
    But I love the mess of your hair.
    Are you soft or hard?
    Is it sensible or mocking,
    Your heart ?
    I do not know, but I give thanks to nature
    To have done with your heart my teacher and winner.
    Faithful, unfaithful?
    What does it do.
    By the way ?
    Since, always willing to crown my zeal
    Your beauty is a pledge to my dearest wish.


    Paul Verlaine

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  7. #27
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    ROSES ARE RED
    VIOLETS ARE BLUE
    GO FUCK YOURSELF
    .

  8. #28
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    She Walks in Beauty
    (Lord Byron)


    'She walks in beauty, like the night
    Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
    And all thats best of dark and bright
    Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
    Thus mellowed to that tender light
    Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

    One shade the more, one ray the less,
    Had half impaired the nameless grace
    Which waves in every raven tress,
    Or softly lightens oer her face;
    Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
    How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

    And on that cheek, and oer that brow,
    So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
    The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
    But tell of days in goodness spent,
    A mind at peace with all below,
    A heart whose love is innocent!'






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    I love this poem. It's a 19th century parody about one guy's unrequited love leading to the death of dozens of people in town. I heard Kim Larsen perform it live once.

    Adolf var af stand velbren
    men han elsked' Thora uden held
    S sprang han lige ud fra Rundetrn
    og slog sig rent forskrkkeligt ihjel.

    Thora sad og grd ved nlen
    Da hun fik at vide Adolfs dd
    gik hun hen og drak af vitriolen
    og dde af den slemme drik hun nd.

    Adolfs fader tlte ikke
    at hans sn s skrkkelig omkom.
    Traurig hngte han sig i en strikke
    da frst han havde drukket flasken tom.

    Moderen fik knap fornummen
    at de andre sdan vandred' bort
    fr hun tog en snaps af opiummen
    og sov sig dd, ak livets fryd er kort.

    Thoras far var dd, men mo'ren
    troede Thora mored' sig p bal.
    Da hun hrte Thora var kreporen
    hun droned' sig i Fredrik'holms kanal.

    Thoras onkel, ham sergenten,
    da han fatted' Thora var ej mer'
    skd han sig og elve brn og tanten
    med rgfrit krudt fra et rep'tergevr

    Deres skrdder var af slagsen,
    da han mrked' Thora var ej mer,
    myrded' han sig samme dag med saksen.
    Da konen s det dde hun af skrk.

    Og en mand der kom fra Fy-en,
    sknt han ingen af dem havde kendt,
    da han s hvor galt det var i byen
    s skd han sig ved Thoras hus omtrent.

    Jeg, som drejer denne kasse,
    jeg er ked af livet, ser I vel,
    men jeg vil ikke d som denne masse,
    nej, jeg vil langsomt drikke mig ihjel.
    Spoiler!


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    We have some great poems but the translations are not so great quite often, so it's a little meaningless to post them. So, I will post a French sonnet with it's English and Greek translations.
    It's more of an anti-romanticist statement. That's why it's great imo.

    Le Coucher du Soleil Romantique

    Que le soleil est beau quand tout frais il se lve,
    Comme une explosion nous lanant son bonjour!
    Bienheureux celui-l qui peut avec amour
    Saluer son coucher plus glorieux qu'un rve!

    Je me souviens!... J'ai vu tout, fleur, source, sillon,
    Se pmer sous son oeil comme un coeur qui palpite...
    Courons vers l'horizon, il est tard, courons vite,
    Pour attraper au moins un oblique rayon!

    Mais je poursuis en vain le Dieu qui se retire;
    L'irrsistible Nuit tablit son empire,
    Noire, humide, funeste et pleine de frissons;

    Une odeur de tombeau dans les tnbres nage,
    Et mon pied peureux froisse, au bord du marcage,
    Des crapauds imprvus et de froids limaons.


    Charles Baudelaire

    Ρομαντικό Ηλιοβασίλεμα

    Πόσο ο ήλιος είναι ωραίος όταν ολόδροσος ανατέλλει,
    σαν μια έκρηξη μας εκτοξεύει την καλημέρα του!
    - Πανευτυχής εκείνος - εκεί που μπορεί μαζί με τον έρωτα
    να χαίρεται την δύση του πιο δοξασμένη κι απ' όνειρο!

    Θυμάσαι! Όλα τα είδα, λουλούδι, πηγή, αυλάκι,
    να λιγώνονται κάτω απ' το μάτι του σαν καρδιά που πάλλει...
    - Ας τρέξουμε προς τον ορίζοντα, είν' αργά, ας τρέξουμε γρήγορα,
    για να αδράξουμε τουλάχιστον της δύσης την ηλιαχτίδα.

    Αλλά μάταια κυνηγώ τον Θεό που αποσύρεται,
    Η ακάθεκτη Νύχτα εγκαθιστά το βασίλειο της,
    μαύρη, υγρή, απαίσια, γεμάτη ανατριχίλες.

    Μια μυρωδιά τάφου μες της νύχτας τα σκοτεινά πέπλα επιπλέει,
    και το πόδι μου φοβισμένο συνθλίβει, στου βάλτου την όχθη,
    απρόβλεπτους φρύνους και κρύα σαλιγκάρια.

    The Sunset of Romanticism

    How beautiful the Sun is when newly risen
    He hurls his morning greetings like an explosion!
    Fortunate the one who can lovingly salute
    His setting, more glorious than a dream!

    I remember!... I have seen all, flower, stream, furrow,
    Swoon under his gaze like a palpitating heart...
    Let us run to the horizon, it's late,
    Let us run fast, to catch at least a slanting ray!

    But I pursue in vain the sinking god;
    Irresistible Night, black, damp, deadly,
    Full of shudders, establishes his reign;

    The odor of the tomb swims in the shadows
    And at the marsh's edge my timid foot
    Treads upon slimy snails and unexpected toads.

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