Translations of future songs

[vitaly2 9]

Every poem is a future song having music already inside.

I think the Greek members would be pleased to read some poetry they might have forgotten or never even seen before.

And the translation is for my own reward for having typed the Greek sentences (no, just kidding it is a pleasure in itself).

The following poem by Kavafi explains it better about the pleasure.

Κάθε ποίημα κρατάει μέσα του κάποιο μελλοντικό τραγούδι. Νομίζω ότι τα μέλη Έλληνες θα το βρίσκουν εντιαφέρον να διαβάσουν κάποιο ποίημα δικά τους? Μπορεί να είναι και ένα ξεχασμένο.

Και η μετάφραση είναι για μένα: ως αμοιβή για τη δουλιά να τις έγραψα τις ελλινηκικες λέξεις στο υπολογιστή μου (όχι, ήταν ακόμι ένα μέρος ηδονής).

Για το ηδονή ακριβώς λέει το ποίημα του Καβάφη.

Αγάπισε την πιότερο

Αγάπισε την πιότερο αν μαγωνία την αποκτάς.

Σκέψου τί χαλαρή και τί κατώτερη

είν η ευκολοαπόκτητη ηδονή.

Η ηδονή η δική σου που την φθάνεις

πότε με ψέυδη, πάνδοτε κρυφά,

ζητώντας την με ανησυχία κ εμμονή,

σπάνια το σώμα βρίσκοντας που αισθάνεται όπως θέλεις,

που με την φαντασία την συμπληροίς,

μη την συγκρίνεις με αλλονών εύκολες απολαύσεις.

Love it more

You must love it more if with your anguish its acquired.

Think how it would be lax and lowly,

a pleasure easily obtained?

Your own pleasure achieved on your own,

at times with a deception, and always sneaking,

seeking it with apprehension and persistence,

and rarely finding the body as you had wanted to sense it,

so your imagination you are using for completion,

cant be compared with easy enjoyments of the others.

P.S. Of course, as you have guessed the poem is about the pleasure of making your own translation, instead of reading the one made by someone else.

(As always, corrections and comments are welcome.)

[vitaly2 9]

Οι Τέσσαρες Τοίχοι της Κάμαρας μου

Το ξέρω πούναι όλα φτωχικά

και που τους έπρεπαν στολίδια άλλα,

τους φίλους μου, πλέον αρχοντικά

και περισσότερα, και πιό μεγάλα.

Αλλά αυτά τα λόγια τί θα πούν;

Έχουν οι τοιχοι μου πιό καλούς τρόπους

και για τα δώρα μου δεν μαγαπούν.

Εκείνοι δεν ομοιάζουν τους ανθρώπους.

Έπειτα ξέρουν μόνο μια στιγμή

πως θα κρατήσουνε τα πράγματά μου

κεμένα. Η χαραίς μου κ οι καυμοί

και κάθε τι που έχω εδώ χάμου

γρήγορα θα περάθουν. Οι γεροί

τοίχοι για τέτοια δώρ αδιαφορούνε.

Ειναι μακρόβιοι κι απ την μικρή

ζωή μου τίποτε δεν απαιτούνε.

Four Walls of My Room

(from Kavafi)

I know that they all are very poor

and that they must have better decorations,

my friends, - more fashionable, for sure,

bigger, more numerous as in a mansion.

But those words how would they know?

They know better, yes, my house walls.

To love me for my gifts? They are not low,

not similar to those of the people, their goals.

And then, it will be only a brief moment

for them to hold my things and also myself.

All that I have: my joys and laments,

and all here on the floor and on the shelf

will quickly pass. So old and solid

they dont pay attention to such gifts.

Their life is long and nothing valid

my little life would offer just a whiff.

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and a reflection

Reflection on the Walls

Whatever I am writing, it's not for you,

false friends for whom I wrote the first poem.

It's not her fault - the poem's words were true.

You are just silent walls, all painted over.

They've lost their glamour, decorations of the walls,

unmoving and untouched by changing weather.

The corners chipped, paint's pieces fall,

but sun's reflection is a teasing feather.

To write a poem is to greet the morning sun,

to help him in his daily chores of a maker

of all things growing - with pain and fun.

He comes and speaks - he is not a faker.

[vitaly2 9]

Δυναμώσεις

Όποις το πνέυμα του ποθεί να δυναμώση

να βγή απ το σεβάς κι από την υποταγή.

Από τους νόμους μερικούς θα τούς φυλάξει,

αλλά το περισσότερο θα παραβαίνει

και νόμους κ έθιμα κι απ την παραδεγμένη

και την ανεπάρκουσα ευθύτητα να βγή.

Από ταίς ηδοναίς πολλά θα διδάχθή.

Την καταστρεπτική δεν θα φοβάται πράξι,

το σπίτι το μισό πρέπει να γκρεμισθή.

Έτσι θ αναπτυχθή ενάρετα στήν γνώση.

Strengthening

He, who his spirit is aspiring to strengthen,

leave them behind, submission and respect.

Of all the laws a few only are for keeping,

while in the most cases hell be breaking

the laws and customs, and let him also shed

his righteousness both the one respectful

and that stemming of weakness: let them go.

From pleasures he will get his many teachings.

He will be not afraid of a disastrous action.

This way he virtuously will advance in knowledge.

[vitaly2 9]

Τεχνητά ’νθη

Δεν θέλω τους αληθινούς ναρκίσσους μηδέ κρίνοι

μαρέσουν, μηδέ ρόδ αληθήνά.

Τους τετριμμένους, τους κοινούς κήπους κοσμούν. Με δείνει

η σάρκα των πικρία, κούραση, κι οδύνη

τα κάλλη των βαρυούμαι τα φθαρτά.

Δόστε με άνθη τεχνητά η δόξαις του τσινιού και του μετάλλόυ

που δεν μαραίνονται και δεν σαπίζουν, με μορφαίς που δεν γερνούν.

’νθη των εξαισίων κήπων ενός τόπου άλλου,

που Θεωρίαις, και Ρυθμοί, και Γνώσεις κατοικούν.

’νθη αγαπώ από υαλί ή από χρυσό πλασμένα,

της Τέχνης της πιστής δώρα πιστά,

με χρώματ απ τα φυσικά πιό εύμορφα βαμμένα,

και με σεντέφι και με σμάλτο δουλευμένα,

με φύλλα και κλωνάρια ιδανικά.

Παίρνουν την χάρι των από σοφή κι αγνότατη Καλαισθησία,

μέσα στά χώματα δεν φύτρωσαν και μες σταίς λάσπαις ρυπαρά.

Εάν δεν έχουν άρωμα, θα χύσουμ ευωδία,

θα κάψουμ εμπροστά των μύρα αισθηματικά.

Artificial Flowers

I dont want narcissi that are real neither the lilies

are to my liking, nor the rose beds.

They decorate parks plain and common with bodies giving

me an impression of bitterness, exhaustion, grieving

their beauty perishable is tiring and sad.

Give me the artificial flowers of enamel and metal glory

that dont wilt and rot, in their non-ageing shape.

Flowers of perfect gardens from another story

where Theories, Styles and Knowledge flourish safe.

I love the flowers that are from glass or gold created,

these truthful gifts coming from the Art of truth,

more beautiful than in the nature are their colors painted,

of mother-of-pearl and enamel elaborated,

with leaves and twigs in an ideal structure fused.

Their grace is born from the Taste ingenious and pure,

they did not sprout from the soil and from the dirty mud.

The scent they lack so a perfume well pour,

Well burn in front of them the aromatic oil of love.

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and a reflection

Forget-me-not

After Ive seen the play of artificial fashion -

a show business of music, love and friends,

in real flowers I am finding consolation

of an imperfect nature perishable creation,

reminder that a start is headed to an end.

I dont bring the flowers to my house

and for my birthday please them dont kill.

I like to go outside to seek and browse

forget-me-nots on a steep sunny hill.

Their smell is that of a common grass in a forest,

their beauty is not plain for hungry bees

hungry for love, they come and go, honest.

They smile and leave, to come back dont promise.

But flowers have for company their trees.

I am partial to them because I think they love me:

at least to understand they seem to try.

They say: Next time were now busy tanning

and I accept their kind transparent lie.

[vitaly2 9]

A bit unreasonable it is. But on a rainy Sunday

a poetry lover is being put in a lyrical mood.

And songs of love dont die at least till Monday:

in a cave of loneliness acoustics is very good.

Προσθέσις

Αν εύτυχής ή δυστυχής είμαι δεν εξετάζω.

Πλην ένα πράγμα με χαράν στο νού μου πάντα βάζω

που στην μεγάλη πρόσθεσι (την πρόσθεσί των πού μισώ)

που έχει τόσους αριθμούς, δεν είμ εγώ εκεί

απ ταίς πολλαίς μονάδες μιά. Μες στ ολικό ποσό

δεν αριθμήθικα. Κι αυτή η χαρά μ αρκεί.

Addition

My happiness or unhappiness I dont evaluate.

Except that of one thing I am happy I must state:

that of the great addition (dealing with those by me hated)

including so many numbers, I am not a part

not one of many units. In a total amount fated

I dont count. This joy will do for a start.

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and a comment

Team

Ive always wanted to be one of a team

united by a common sense of humans

thats putting first a natural esteem

of the equality, and then the manners tuning.

So many numbers are there in the line

to reach equality and the very last is mine.

The last is not the least

if you count in reverse.

The last seat at a feast

is for the fire exit first.

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Loneliness is not a desease

it is rather a friend

who says I cant give what you need

and stays with you to the end.