and still
the wonder
the hope
each time
up at bat
Month: July 2015
Ahmet Muhip Dıranas…
Another translation of a Turkish poet on the blog Forgotten Hopes.
-Let them be great-
I love great songs; let them be great,
Everything like a sea, a sky and sad.
If I love you, love is eternal in my heart,
If I am in love, you are not my woman but a goddess, a queen.
Seas keep inviting me to a journey, yet
I don't go, thinking of the day I would return.
I love great winds, let them be great
My love, my longing, all of them, everything and sad.
If one burns, he must burn like Kerem did.
He must even wake up from sleep on the judgment day...
-Translated by R. U.
Büyük Olsun Ben büyük şarkıları severim; büyük olsun, Deniz gibi, gökyüzü gibi her şey ve mahzun. Seviyorsam seni aşk ölümsüzdür gönlümce, Âşıksam kadınım değil tanrıçasın, ece. Denizler yolculuğa çağırır durur da beni Gitmem düşünerek geri döneceğim günü. Ben büyük rüzgârları severim; büyük olsun Aşkım da…
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A Papago song of the night
In the great night my heart will go out,
Toward me the darkness comes rattling,
In the great night my heart will go out.
translated by Frances Densmore & an unidentified interpreter
smile like a child
you smile
like a child
a summer morning
no school
all day play
ice cream
and chocolate bars
life waiting
your smile
a thought on war from the Native American Pima tribe
You may this this over, my relatives. The taking of life brings serious thoughts of the waste; the celebration of victory may become riotous.
translated by Frank Russell
an Inca song
My mother bore me,
Ah!
Within a raincloud,
Ah!
That I might weep with the rain,
Ah!
That I might whirl with the cloud,
Ah!
translated from the Quechua into French by R. & M. d’Harcourt
translated from the French into English by John Bierhorst
a Chippewa Dream Song
as my eyes
search
the prairie
I feel the summer
in the spring
translated by Frances Densmore
tenderness in my dream
in my dream
we sit
reading
how nice
you say
to do this
with someone
I cook
my famous linguine
with broccoli
we eat
staring
in each other’s
eyes
tenderness
in my dream
but only
in my dream
a Quiche poem about home: The Face of My Mountains
My voice speaks out
to your lips,
to your face:
give me thirteen times twenty days,
thirteen times twenty nights,
to bid farewell
to the face of my mountains,
the face of my valleys,
where once I roamed
to the four world-ends,
the four world-quarters,
seeking and finding
to feed me
and live.
translated into Spanish by Prologo de Francisco Monterde, then into English by John Bierhorst
among flowers
here
among flowers
I sing
your name
Leonard Durso 