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Entries Tagged as '“Centre of Romanian Studies – London”'

Poetry in Translation (CXCV): Rudyard KIPLING (1865 – 1935), ENGLAND “If”, “Dacă, doar…”, “Si”, “Tu seras un Homme, mon fils”

June 21st, 2013 · No Comments · Diaspora, International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, Translations

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

Dacă doar capul ţi-ai păstra, când toţi din jurul tău
L-ar pierde, dară vina lor în cârcă ţi-ar urca;
Dacă nădejdea ţi-ai păstra, când toţi s-ar îndoi,
Scuzându-se la nesfârşit, în îndoiala lor:
De-ai aştepta fără să fii trudit,
Mereu minţit, fără să poţi minţi,
Atunci când lumea te-ar urî, fără să poţi urî,
Si fără să te-mpăunezi, sau să te dai viteaz;

Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London,
© 2013 Copyright Constantin ROMAN

Si entre la turba das a la virtud abrigo;
si, marchando con reyes del orgullo has triunfado;
si no pueden herirte ni amigo ni enemigo;
si eres bueno con todos, pero no demasiado,
si puedes llenar los preciosos minutos
con sesenta segundos de combate bravío,
tuya es la Tierra y todos sus codiciados frutos,
y lo que más importa: ¡serás hombre, hijo mío!”
© Dra. Gloria M. Sánchez Zeledón de Norris Yoyita.

Si tu peux rencontrer Triomphe après Défaite
Et recevoir ces deux menteurs d’un même front,
Si tu peux conserver ton courage et ta tête
Quand tous les autres les perdront,

Alors les Rois, les Dieux, la Chance et la Victoire
Seront à tous jamais tes esclaves soumis,
Et, ce qui vaut mieux que les Rois et la Gloire
Tu seras un homme, mon fils.

(traduit de l’anglais par André Maurois)

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Poetry in Translation (CLXXII): Edmund Burke (1729 – 1797), Anglo-Irish Philosopher, Poet & Politician – “The Mirror”, “Oglinda”

March 11th, 2013 · 1 Comment · International Media, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Edmund Burke ,
(1729 – 1797), Irlanda

Mă uit în oglindă
Şi ce pot afla?
O faţă curioasă
Ce nu e a mea!

Căci sunt mult mai tânăr
Şi nici gras nu sînt
Ca cel din oglinda
La care mă uit.

O, Sfinte Sisoaie,
O rugă îţi fac
Găseste-mi oglinda
Mai veche de-un veac.

Căci cele de astăzi
Nu sunt cum au fost,
Fiind toate schimbate
Şi fără de rost!

Mai bine ignoră
Când riduri apar
Un lucru fiind sigur
Şi limpede, chiar.

Când faţa-i departe
De-a fi c-altă dată,
E timp ca oglinda
Să fie schimbată.

(Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London,
© 2013 Copyright Constantin ROMAN)

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Poetry in Translation (CLXIX): Emily LAWLESS (1845 – 1913), IRELAND – “In Spain”, “În Spania”

February 17th, 2013 · No Comments · Poetry, quotations, Translations

Emily LAWLESS
(1845 –1913)

Your sky is a hard and a dazzling blue,
Your earth and sands are a dazzling gold,
And gold or blue is the proper hue,
You say for a swordsman bold.

In the land I have left the skies are cold,
The earth is green, the rocks are bare,
yet the devil may hold all your blue and your gold
Were I only once back there!

Cerul vostru de fier e-un albastru de-azur
Iar pământul de aur sclipind
Amintind de strămoşii din vremi de demult
Dârji in luptă, cu pieptul flămând.

Dar in ţara bătrânilor mei. ceru-i aspru,
Munţii sterpi, iar moşia uitată.
Şi la naiba cu galbenii şi cu cerul albastru
Doar la vatra din sat să ne-ntoarcem odată.

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Poetry in Translation (CXLII): Parid TEFERICI (b. 1972, Albania), “In a Country as Small as This One”, “O ţară atât de mică”

November 10th, 2012 · No Comments · International Media, Poetry, Translations

The Albanian Leviathan is a sardine. The sitting rooms where men gather are tins of sardines. Truth, in order to find space there, has to be folded in two and then folded again.
In a country as small as this, so small that you could easily draw it on a one-to-one scale on this packet of cigarettes, you don’t know where and how to sit or support yourself: on the throat of your neighbour, or on the buttocks of the other fellow’s wife.
Seated, huddled around the coffee table, how can you greet anyone without jabbing someone else with your elbow? How can you pay a compliment without deafening someone?
We can see one another in our spoons, and we are warped.

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