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Poetry in Translation (CCCXVII): Constantin ROMAN (b. 1941), ROMANIA/ENGLAND – “Abbot Kir”, “Abatele Kir“

February 1st, 2015 · Famous People, History, International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, POLITICAL DETENTION / DISSENT, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CCCXVII): Constantin ROMAN (b. 1941), ROMANNIA/ENGLAND – “Abbot Kir”, “Abatele Kir”

Abbot Felix KIR, Mayor of Dijon, of cocktail repute, Cleric, Deputy - French National Assembly

Abbot Felix KIR, Mayor of Dijon, of cocktail repute, Cleric, Deputy – French National Assembly

Constantin ROMAN (b. 1941)
ABBOT KIR

Our good Abbot Kir
Had a dream rather queer,
Even though, he agreed, somewhat vain…
To his flute of Champagne
He would add some cassis
And he found the result utter bliss!
* * * * * *

Abbot Felix Kir: "Kir Royale"

Abbot Felix Kir: “Kir Royale”

Constantin ROMAN (n. 1941)
ABATELE KIR

Când Abatele Kir, de acel renume,
S-a trezit din vis,
Turnând şampanie-n casis,
N-a crezut de fel,
Că acest cocktail,
Îi va duce o faimă în lume.

* * * * * *


Dijon City Hall

Dijon City Hall

SHORT BIO: Abbot Félix KIR (January 22, 1876 – April 26, 1968) was a French Catholic priest, resistance fighter and politician.
Born at Alise-Sainte-Reine on the Côte-d’Or, he entered the seminary at Plombières-lès-Dijon in 1891 to be ordained 1901. After his graduation he worked as a parish priest. During the occupation of France in World War II, Abbot Kir took an active part in the French Resistance, helping with the escape of 5,000 prisoners of war from a camp at Longvic. He was arrested and condemned to death, but he was released because of his status. He continued organizing operations, and was seriously wounded, but escaped interrogation by the Gestapo.
In 1945 he was made a knight of the Légion d’honneur and was elected mayor of Dijon and to the French National Assembly. He remained mayor of Dijon up to his death.
He was a colourful character, with a sharp sense of humour. He worked in his lifetime he wanted to create his own legend by claiming extraordinary feats. Somewhat eccentric, he never hesitated to wear a policeman cap to direct the traffic outside the town hall of Dijon, where he was mayor. He was reputed to have answered a Communist deputy who challenged his faith, on the basis that people believed in God without seeing him, the Abbot replied: “And my ass, you’ve not seen it either and yet it exists!”. Felix Kir was the last Member to have worn a priest’s cassock on the benches of the Chamber of Deputies and in the gallery of the National Assembly. At the rostrum of the meeting, he had this formula:

” My dear fellow-members, I am accused of turning my coat and yet, you see, it is black on either side!”

The Internationally- popular cocktail “Kir”, named in his honor, is a mixture of white burgundy wine, traditionally Aligoté, mixed with Crème de Cassis, a sweet, blackcurrant-flavored liqueur. The Canon always served it to the guests of Dijon’s City Hall, where he was mayor for decades. When going by train to Paris he is reputed to carry a shopping bag containing a bottle of white wine and a bottle of blackcurrant liqueur and offered a “Kir” to his fellow travellers.
During an official visit to France, the Soviet leader, Nikita Khrushchev came specially to Dijon on 28 March 1960 to meet with Canon Kir. However this interview never took place as the Canon was adviced against it by the Bishop of Dijon, because of persecution of Catholics in communist countries. Still, Canon Kir met a few weeks later Nikita Khrushchev at the Soviet Embassy in Paris. There he was invited to visit the Kremlin in September 1964 where he was received by Krushchev himself.
(Adpted from the French Wikipedia)
NOTE: When ordering a “kir”, in France, waiters sometimes ask whether you want it made with crème de cassis (blackcurrant), de mûre (blackberry) or de pêche (peach).
The International Bartenders Association gives a recipe using 1/10 crème de cassis, but French sources typically specify more; 19th century recipes for blanc-cassis recommended 1/3 crème de cassis, which modern tastes find cloyingly sweet, and modern sources typically about 1/5. Replacing the crème de cassis with blackcurrant syrup is discouraged.

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Poetry in Translation (CCCXVI): Walt WHITMAN (1819-1892), U.S.A. – “To a Stranger”, “Trecătorule”

January 31st, 2015 · Famous People, International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CCCXVI): Walt WHITMAN (1819-1892), U.S.A. – “To a Stranger”, “Trecătorule”

Walt WHITMAN (1819-1892)

Walt WHITMAN (1819-1892)


Walt WHITMAN (1819-1892),
To a Stranger

PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream),
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate,
chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me,
I ate with you, and slept with you – your body has become not yours only, nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass- you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you- I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone,
I am to wait- I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

* * * * * * *
Walt Whitman
Walt WHITMAN (1819-1892)
Trecătorule

Trecătorule, tu nu-mi ştii dorul cu care mă uit la tine.
Tu trebuie să fii cel ce am căutat, sau aceea ce am căutat-o (totul apare ca un vis).
Pe undeva, cândva, ştiu că am împărtăşit bucuria vieţii cu tine.
Totul reapare ca un vis a unei bucurii trăite cu tine…
Totul reapare aşa cum am trecut, o clipă pe lângă tine, fluid, iubitor, pur, matur
Am crescut laolaltă… pentru mine tu erai un fecior, sau o fecioară,
Am împărţit masa cu tine, patul cu tine – corpul tău nu-ţi mai aparţine ţie, asa cum nici corpul meu nu-i doar al meu.
Pe acest drum ce îl urmăm împreună, tu îmi vei oferi plăcerea ochilor, feţei şi fibrei tale, ca să iei în schimb părul, pieptul şi braţele mele.
Va trebui să te aştept – dar mă voi gândi la tine când voi fi singur, sau când mă voi trezi, singur, la miezul nopţii.
Te voi aştepta… Sunt sigur că te voi afla din nou…
Voi face astfel ca să nu te pierd niciodată!

Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London
© 2015 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

Whitman Penguin SHORT BIO: Whitman’s work breaks the boundaries of poetic form and is generally prose-like. He also used unusual images and symbols in his poetry, including rotting leaves, tufts of straw, and debris. He also openly wrote about death and sexuality, including prostitution.[84] He is often labeled as the father of free verse, though he did not invent it.

Whitman wrote in the preface to the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass, “The proof of a poet is that his country absorbs him as affectionately as he has absorbed it.” He believed there was a vital, symbiotic relationship between the poet and society. This connection was emphasized especially in “Song of Myself” by using an all-powerful first-person narration. As an American epic, it deviated from the historic use of an elevated hero and instead assumed the identity of the common people. Leaves of Grass also responded to the impact that recent urbanization in the United States had on the masses.

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Poetry in Translation (CCCXV): Alexandru Osvald (A. O.) TEODOREANU, aka “Pastorel” (1894-1964), ROMANIA – “CALIGULA ”, “CALIGULA ”

January 24th, 2015 · Communist Prisons, PEOPLE, Poetry, POLITICAL DETENTION / DISSENT, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CCCXV): Alexandru Osvald (A. O.) TEODOREANU, aka “Pastorel” (1894-1964), ROMANIA – “CALIGULA ”, “CALIGULA ”

Caligula (Marble - British Museum)

Caligula (Marble – British Museum)

CALIGULA
A.O. TEODOREANU,
aka “Păstorel” (1894-1964)

Caligula imperator
Şi-a făcut calul Senator.
Petru Groza, mai sinistru,
Şi-a făcut boul ministru.

CALIGULA
Păstorel TEODOREANU

Caligula Imperator
Made his horse a Senator…
Stalin, far more sinister,
Made his ass a Minister.

Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London
© 2015 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

* * * * * *

EDITOR’S NOTE: The first concern in translating this epigram was to preserve the musicality devolved from the rhythm. Such constraint, is made, inevitably, at the expense of the content. Furthermore, given the inherent limitations imposed by the four-line verse of an epigram, one will have to make sure that the political thrust of the Romanian original is not blunted in the English version. This is particularly important given the fact that today’s Anglo-Saxon readership, will have to grasp political innuendos of a mid 20th century cultural and political mindset, of a “faraway country”, very different from today’s society.
Given such limitations, certain compromises and adaptations had to be made, whereby the name of the Romanian Communist President Petru Groza (1884-1958) was substituted to that of Stalin and the Romanian pejorative of “bou” (mening literally “ox” i.e. an “idiot”, in Romanian) was substituted in English by the derogatory “ass”.

Păstorel

Păstorel

SHORT BIO: Păstorel Teodoreanu, aka Păstorel (born Alexandru Osvald (Al. O.) Teodoreanu (b. July 30, 1894 – d. March 17, 1964). Epigramist, journalist, food aficionado, witt, political prisoner.

Păstorel was a Romanian humorist, poet and gastronome, the brother of novelist Ionel Teodoreanu. He worked in many genres, but is best remembered for his parody texts and his epigrams, and less so for his Symbolist verse. His roots are planted in the regional culture of Moldavia, which became his main source of literary inspiration, Păstorel was at once an opinionated columnist famous wine-drinking, an unrepentant bohemian, and a war hero. During the 1920s he worked for mainstream literary magazines, such as ‘Gândirea’ and ‘Viața Românească’, and cultivated a close relationships with literary critics such as George Călinescu (1899-1965).
Teodoreanu’s career peaked in 1937, when he received one of Romania’s most prestigious awards, the National Prize. During WWII he was an official government spokesman, which caused him to be shunned by Romanian leftists. Following the installation of a Communnist dictatorship, in 1948, Păstorel was marginalized and closely supervised by the regime. In order to survive he made some skin-deep efforts to adapt his style and politics. Beyond this façade of conformity, he contributed to the emergence of an underground, largely oral, anti-communist literature.
In 1959, Teodoreanu was arrested by the communist authorities, and prosecuted, as part of a notorious show trial of Romanian professional class. This got him a two-years prison sentence, which, given the notorious harsh conditions, resulted in a premature death.

Teodoreanu died soon after coming out of prison, a broken man, his literary work largely inaccessible to readers before the 1989 palace coup which removed Ceausescu from power. After three decades of a conspiracy of silence, imposed by the Romanian communist dictatorship, against a talented, if a mild, non-conformist critic, lately the epigrams of Teodoreanu are again made accessible to the Romanian public.

(modified from Wikipedia, English edition): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/P%C4%83storel_Teodoreanu

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Poetry in Translation (CCCXIV): Alexandru O. TEODOREANU, aka PASTOREL (1894-1964), ROMANIA – “Soldate Rus, Slavă Ţie!”, “Hail, Soviet Soldier!”, “Gloire au Soldat Soviétique!” –

January 23rd, 2015 · Poetry, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CCCXIV): Alexandru O. TEODOREANU, aka PASTOREL (1894-1964), ROMANIA – “Soldate Rus, Slavă Ţie!”, “Hail, Soviet Soldier!”, “Gloire au Soldat Soviétique!” –

Monument to the Soviet Soldier (Dimitrie Demu (1920-1997)

Monument to the Soviet Soldier (Dimitrie Demu (1920-1997)

SOLDATE RUS, SLAVĂ ŢIE!
Păstorel Teodoreanu

Soldate Rus, soldate Rus,
De ce te-au pus aşa de sus?
C’ai cucerit popoarele,
Sau că-ţi miros picioarele?

HAIL SOVIET SOLDIER!
Păstorel Teodoreanu

You, Soviet soldier, Soviet soldier,
Why are you perched so high, I wonder?
Because you conquered us, as well,
Or that your feet may stink like hell?

Rendered in English by Constantin ROMAN,
London © 2015 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

GLOIRE AU SOLDAT SOVIÉTIQUE!
“GLOIRE AU SOLDAT SOVIÉTIQUE!”
Păstorel Teodoreanu
(1894-1964),

Toi soviétique, si haut perché,
Pourquoi es-tu si isolé?
Serait-ce par marque de respect?
Ou pour ne pas sentir tes pieds?

Version Francaise par Constantin ROMAN,
London © 2014 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, Londres
* * * * *

Dimitrie DEMU's monument of the Soviet Soldier, erected in 1946, in Bucharest

Dimitrie DEMU’s monument of the Soviet Soldier, erected in 1946, in Bucharest

SHORT

NOTE: Dimitrie DEMU (1920-1997) – Sculptor of the Soviet soldier’s memorial in Bucharest

 Monumentul a fost inaugurat la 10 mai 1946 în prezența unor înalte autorități: premierul dr. Petru Groza, primarul general al capitalei general Victor Dombrowski și locțiitorul președintelui Comisiei Aliate de Control, general-colonel I. Z. Susaikov. Monumentul a fost amplasat până în 1990 în Piața Victoriei și era un obelisc acoperit cu placi de travertin, de 12 m pe care era asezata o statuie din bronz de 3 m. Ridicarea statuii la o înălțime așa de mare i-a oferit prilejul lui Păstorel Teodoreanu să facă o epigramă, foarte populară în epocă, la adresa monumentului ostașului sovietic [vezi mai sus].

Dimitrie DEMU (1920-1997) a urmat studiile la Brașov, la colegiul “Andrei Șaguna” unde l-a avut ca profesor de română pe Emil Cioran.

A fost admis la școala de Arte Frumoase de la București, secția de sculptură, pe care a absolvit-o în 1943.

În 1948 s-a anunțat un concurs de proiecte pentru o statuie monumentală a lui Stalin, concurs la care au prezentat machete în jur de 20 de sculptori. Pentru a fi sigură că monumentul dedicat lui Iosif Vissarionovici Stalin se încadrează în criteriile impuse de acesta, Ana Pauker, în calitate de președintă a juriului, i-a cerut opinia lui Nikolai Tomski, un sculptor rus care executase mai multe statui ale generalisimului, amplasate în diferite orașe din Uniunea Sovietică. Juriul a fost surprins când, în 23 martie 1950, nu macheta favoritului Constantin Baraschi a fost aleasă, ci cea a sculptorului Dimitrie Demu.

După edificarea statuii au început ponoasele pentru autorul ei, care s-a transformat în “oaia neagră” a artei oficiale. Artistul lucra într-o fostă prăvălie de pe strada Sfântul Ion Nou, “total necorespunzătoare pentru creație” și nu a mai primit nici o comandă de la stat, deși fusese decorat cu “Ordinul Muncii”, clasa I.

Statuia, ridicată în 1951, a fost demolată în 1962. Pentru a scăpa de prezența sculptorului, devenită stânjenitoare, autoritățile l-au pus să facă cerere de emigrare în Grecia. Dumitru Demu nu s-a stabilit în Grecia, ci în Venezuela, unde multe piețe ale orașelor sunt decorate cu creațiile sale monumentale. Înainte de plecarea definitivă din țară, la 3 aprilie 1964 a fost pus să semneze declarația-tip prin care se obliga să nu spună nimic despre ce a putut vedea sau auzi în legătură cu autoritățile din România. Ultimul lucru pe care i l-au cerut “autoritățile” înainte de a-i aproba plecarea au fost decorațiile, și în primul rând, cea ce-i fusese decernată pentru statuia lui Stalin…

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Poetry in Translation (CCCXIII): Eric Arthur BLAIR, aka George ORWELL (1903 India – 1950 England), INDIA/ENGLAND – “Prostitution”, “Prostituţie”

January 13th, 2015 · Books, Famous People, OPINION, PEOPLE, Poetry, POLITICAL DETENTION / DISSENT, quotations

Poetry in Translation (CCCXIII): Eric Arthur BLAIR, aka George ORWELL (1903 India – 1950 England), INDIA/ENGLAND – “Prostitution”, “Prostituţie”

George Orwell Diaries
George Orwell
(1903-1950)
(Prostitution)

When I was young and had no sense,
In far-off Mandalay,
I lost my heart to a Burmese girl
As lovely as the day.

Her skin was gold, her hair was jet,
Her teeth were ivory;
I said, “for twenty silver pieces,
Maiden, sleep with me”.

She looked at me, so pure, so sad,
The loveliest thing alive,
And in her lisping, virgin voice,
Stood out for twenty-five.
* * * * *

Prostituţie
George Orwell
(1903-1950)

Când m-am amorezat lulea,
De inima-i păgână,
Crezut-am c-am aflat în ea,
O fiinţă ca o zână.

Cu pielea-i gata s-o alinţi,
Cu mângâieri caline,
I-am oferit cin’ş’pe arginţi
Să vină-n pat cu mine.

Dar ea privindu-mă’ntrodoară,
Cu ochii puri si reci,
Atunci, cu glasu-i de fecioară,
A acceptat treizeci.

Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London
© 2015 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

Animal-Farm-Book-Cover2 SHORT BIO: Eric Arthur BLAIR (b. 1903 India – d. 1950, England), author, journalist, novelist and poet is best known for his novels “Animal Farm” and “1984”, which brings him to the top ten of the world’s best fiction writers. Born in India of the Raj, the son of a Civil Service official, Eric Blair was brought to England at a tender age, by his mother and was educated at Eton, Given the financial constraints of his father, he did not follow into higher education, but worked instead for the Imperial Police force in Burma, for five years, before he resigned to follow up a career as a writer. To his end he chose the pen name of George Orwell to avoid embarrassing his family. He volunteered to fight in the Spanish Civil War, on the Republican side, was badly injured and returned to England for treatment, before he was indicted by the Phalangists. Orwell recovered to write, in 1945, his best seller, “The Animal Farm” whose main protagonists were two pigs embodying Stalin and Trotzky, respectively. This fiction was a best seller, to be followed, four years later, by the epic novel “1984”, which remains to this day amongst the top ten most popular novels in the world.

1984-by-george-orwell-eyeFOOT NOTE: Constantin ROMAN, a British-Romanian national had the unlikely opportunity of reading a French translation of “1984”, which was serialized in the French weekly, “Paris Match” in the late 1950s, during the Communist dicttorship of Gheorghiu-Dej. By a circuitous way, this Magazine, which wasnot available behind the iron Curtain, made its way to Constantin’s private French teacher, in Bucharest, who copied it, by hand: Orwell’s fiction struck a note very close home, behind the Iron Curtain, as it reflected the actual oppression under the Communist dictatorship. The manuscript was circulated under cover, at the risk of being found out by the secret police and consequently serving long years in Romania’s extermination Gulag.

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Poetry in Translation (CCCXII): T. S. ELIOTT (1888-1965), U.S.A. / ENGLAND – “Lune de miel”, “Luna de miere”

January 3rd, 2015 · Books, Diaspora, Famous People, International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CCCXII): T. S. ELIOTT (1888-1965), U.S.A. / ENGLAND – “Lune de miel”, “Luna de miere”

T. S. ELIOT by Rus COOK

T. S. ELIOT by Rus COOK

T. S. ELIOTT
(St. Louis, Missouri, 1888 – London, 1965)

Lune de miel

Ils ont vu les Pays-Bas, ils rentrent à Terre Haute;
Mais une nuit d’été, les voici à Ravenne,
A l’aise entre deux draps, chez deux centaines de punaises
La sueur aestivale, et une forte odeur de chienne
Ils restent sur le dos ecartant les genoux
On relève le drap pour mieux égratigner.
Moins d’une lieue d’ici est Saint Apollinaire
In Classe, basilique connue des amateurs
De chapitaux d’acanthe que touraoie le vent.

Ils vont prendre le train de huit heures
Prolonger leurs misères de Padoue à Milan
Ou se trouvent le Cène, et un restaurant pas cher.
Lui pense aux pourboires, et redige son bilan.
Ils auront vu la Suisse et traversé la France.
Et Saint Apollinaire, raide et ascétique,
Vieille usine désaffectée de Dieu, tient encore
Dans ses pierres ècroulantes la forme precise de Byzance.

* * * * *
tseliot Ash Wednesday
Thomas Stearns ELIOTT, OM,
(St. Louis, Missouri, USA, 1888 – London, 1965)

Luna de miere

Din Ţările de Jos, spre Ţările de Sus…
Mai târziu, într-o seară, îi aflăm la Ravenna,
Lungiţi în pat, pe spate, într-un mod emfatic.
Mâncaţi fiind, incontinu, de ploşniţe, şi practic,
Pe mâini si faţa toată ciupiti… când, în fine,
Ei îşi desfac cearceaful, să răsufle mai bine…
Noroc că nu-i departe Apolinare-n-
-Classe, un monument simpatic, iubit de amatorii
De antice coloane şi vânt suflând sălbatic.

Apoi, vor prinde trenul, la opt şi jumătate,
Târându-şi, greu, suflarea, din Sud înspre Milano,
La Cina cea de Taină şi un meniu simpatic.
Adăugând bacşişul, el îşi face bilanţul:
Acum văzut-au Alpii şi Franţa, chiar, un pic…
Şi Sant’Apollinare, cel ţeapăn şi ascetic,
Părăsit de prea-Sfântul, cu-altaru-n ruine,
Stând încă în picioare, din timpuri Bizantine!

Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London
© 2014 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

ELIOT Time Magazine SHORT BIO: T.S. Eliot was born in St. Louis, Missouri, in 1888. He published his first poetic masterpiece, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” in 1915. In 1921, he wrote the poem “The Waste Land” while recovering from exhaustion. The dense, allusion-heavy poem went on to redefine the genre and become one of the most talked about poems in literary history. For his lifetime of poetic innovation, Eliot won the Order of Merit and the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1948. Part of the ex-pat community of the 1920s, he spent most of his life in Europe, dying in London, England, in 1965.

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Poetry in Translation (CCCXI): Radu GIR (1905-1975), ROMANIA – Poet of the Romanian Communist Prisons, “Întrebare ”, “Question”

January 2nd, 2015 · Communist Prisons, Famous People, History, PEOPLE, Poetry, POLITICAL DETENTION / DISSENT, quotations

Poetry in Translation (CCCXI): Radu GIR (1905-1975), ROMANIA – Poet of the Romanian Communist Prisons, “Întrebare ”, “Question”

Pitesti Political Prison (Romania) - Painting (detail)

Pitesti Political Prison (Romania) – Painting (detail)


Întrebare
RADU GYR
(1905-1975)

Adâncă-i noaptea, orele profunde…
Gemând, spre raftul cărţilor mă-ndrum
Şi-ntreb în şoaptă fiece volum:
-Tu eşti? Şi cartea fuge şi se-ascunde.

Plângând, întreb portretul ei acum:
-Tu eşti? Însă iubita nu-mi răspunde.
Îmi umplu cupa-n vin să mă scufunde,
Întreb: -Tu eşti? Şi cupa piere-n fum.

Şi-ntreb şi spada mea: -Tu eşti? Şi tace.
Şi, cum mă prăbuşesc în jilţ, înfrânt,
Din zid o umbră albă se desface…

Mă-ntorc spre ea cu sânge în cuvânt
Şi-n ochii lui Iisus e numai pace.
Întreb: -Tu eşti? Şi umbra spune: -Sânt.
* * * * *
prison_bed
RADU GYR
(1905-1975)
Question

A silent night. The hours sail in darkness.
In utter pain, I walk towards the shelf
To query slowly every single volume:
No sooner that I ask, it melts to note.

As tears flow on my face, I ask his image:
Might this be you, Milord? But he is silent…
I fill my silver cup with tears so bitter
No sooner that I call, his face is fading…

I query now my sword: might this be you? it’s silent…
As I collapse, forsaken and forlorn
A shadow suddenly, appears, resurgent…

I turn to it, with all my hope, reborn,
As Jesus Christ inspires utter Peace…
I ask: that’s you, Milord? He says: I am, my Son!

Rendered in English by Constantin ROMAN, London
© 2014 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London
* * * * *

Radu GYR (1905-1975) Poet of the Romanian Communist Prisons Communist Prisons

Radu GYR (1905-1975) Poet of the Romanian Communist Prisons Communist Prisons

SHORT BIO:

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Poetry in Translation (CCCX): Attila ILHAN (1925-2005), TURKEY: “Illicit love”, “Iubire ilicită”

January 2nd, 2015 · Famous People, PEOPLE, Poetry, POLITICAL DETENTION / DISSENT, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CCCX): Attila ILHAN (1925-2005), TURKEY:
“Illicit love”, “Iubire ilicită”

Attila ILHAN (Turkey) portait by Cemsultan

Attila ILHAN (Turkey) portait by Cemsultan


ILLICIT LOVE
ATTILA ILHAN
(1925-2005)

come through my other door you cannot open this
come with your former eyes come at the time to kill
and be vigilant lest someone should follow you
I have been hiding in this house for a long time
I have changed my name they call me something else
day and night I wear sunglasses
come through my other door you cannot open this
come toward daybreak come with all your eyes
I am getting darker and darker behind the shutters
troubles engulf me and so does the Fall
I am unable to recognize your voice on the phone
your face flows and vanishes away through my fingers
something neeting something broken forever
come toward daybreak come with your former eyes
come through my other door you cannot open this
and be vigilant lest someone should follow you
I no longer exist for anyone
they conjured my loves with enormous violins
my fears have been lonesome for eternity
I am a lonely verse is that why I am getting wet
a revolver completes my novel
the play is over they tumed off the lights
come as if you do not exist come at the time to kill
come through my other door you cannot open this
they locked and sealed it from the outside
and be vigilant lest someone should follow you

* * * * * * * *
“Iubire ilicită”
Attila ILHAN (1925-2005)
Turcia
vino prin uşa cealaltă, nu vei putea deschide uşa asta
vino cu ceilalţi ochi vino când vei avea timp destul
şi fii atent ca nu cumva să te urmărească cineva
m-am ascuns în casa asta de mult timp
mi-am schimbat numele şi ei mă ştiu pe un alt nume
port ochelari de soare zi şi noapte
vino prin uşa cealaltă, nu vei putea deschide uşa asta
vino în zorii zilei vino cu ochii mari deschişi
devin din ce in ce mai întunecat în spatele obloanelor
mă năpădesc grijile ca şi Toamna
nu- ţi mai recunosc vocea la telefon
faţa ta se dizolvă şi îmi scapă printre degete
ca o ţesătură complect distrusă
vino în zorii zilei vino cu ochii mari deschişi
vino prin uşa cealaltă, nu vei putea deschide uşa asta
şi fii atent ca nu cumva să te urmărească cineva
eu nu mai exist deloc pentru nimeni
ei îmi aduc aminte de iubirile de alta data
temerile mele au rămas părăsite pentru totdeauna
sunt un cântec răzleţ iată de ce sunt ud până la piele
un pistol aduce la sfârşit povestea mea
piesa s-a terminat acum reflectoarele s-au stins
vino ca şi cum n-ai fii vino căci avem timp destul
vino prin uşa cealaltă, nu vei putea deschide uşa asta
au zăvorât-o şi au sigilat-o pe din afară
fii atent ca nu cumva să te urmărească cineva

Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN,
© 2014 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

Attila ILHAN bu Erdogan URUC

Attila ILHAN bu Erdogan URUC

SHORT BIO: Izmir-born poet Attilâ İlhan got on the wrong side of the Law during his school years when sending a politically ‘seditious’ poem to his young flame. and He was convicted over his left-wing sympathies and jailed for two months. This caused him eventually to live in Paris to allow the ‘dust’ to settle before he would return to his homeland.
Attilâ İlhan was active as a journalist and also wrote several successful novels. He lived and worked in Paris intermittently between 1949 and 1965 and later was active as a journalist in Turkey. His poetry, although modernist is replete with a sophisticated language, which pays tribute to Ottoman literature, music, and history. Some of his poem cycles allude to the Young Turks who eventually toppled the Sultan to install a new order.
Attilâ İlhan was a prolific poet, essayist and journalist, He died in Istanbul in 2005.

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Poetry in Translation (CCCIX), Charles Hubert SISSON (1914 –2003), ENGLAND, “Finale”, “Final”

January 2nd, 2015 · PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CCCIX), Charles Hubert SISSON (1914 –2003), ENGLAND, “Finale”, “Final”
C.H.Sisson.portrait.by.Patrick.Swift
Finale
Charles Hubert SISSON
(1914 –2003)

Nothing means anything now:
I am alone
— My mind a vacant space,
My heart of stone.

A tuneless thing I am,
A broken lyre.
I cannot even boast
A flameless fire.

There is the work I did
— Paper and ink —
I have no part in it:
There is no link

Between the man who wrote
— And more, was once alive,
And this relic for whom
The end does not arrive.

Although the life has gone
There is no corpse to show:
When others find it, I
Alone shall never know.

* * * * *

Final
Charles Hubert SISSON
(1914 –2003)

Nimic nu mai contează
Singur sunt
Memoria’m pierdut
Viaţa să-nfrunt.

Pian dezacordat,
Lira stricată –
Nici nu mai pot visa
C-aşi fi la vatră.

Pe raft e tot ce-am scris,
Volum peste volum –
Dar nu îmi aparţin.
Credeţi-mă ce spun.

Căci intre scriitorul
Ce-am fost căndva sa fiu
Nu-i nici o legatură
Cu un cadavru viu.

Cănd viaţa s-ar fi scurs,
Absent la înhumare,
N’o să-mi găsească trupul,
Căci rost nu îşi mai are.

Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London
© 2014 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

* * * * *

C.H. Sisson-The London Zoo Poems SHORT BIO: C. H. Sisson (1914-2003) was a noted poet, novelist, essayist and translator. His poetry can be traced back from Hulme to Eliot, Pound, Ford Madox Ford and Wyndham Lewis.
Sisson served in the British Army during World War II in India and joined the Ministry of Labour in 1936. His inside knowledge caused him to become a ‘severe critic’ of the Civil Service, which also happened to have inspired George Orwell’s ‘Ministry of Truth’ encapsulated in his novel ‘1984’. Sisson’s stance caused much controversy at the time. This is specially acknowledged in the author’s own ‘Epitaf’. published in ‘The London Zoo’:

‘Here lies a civil servant. He was civil
To everyone, and servant to the devil’.

Only months before he died, at the age of 89, C.H. Sisson was appointed a Companion of Honour for his services to Literature: it took a long time for the Establishment to forgive the poets ‘misdemeanor’…

(abridged and modified from Wikipedia)

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Poetry in Translation (CCCVIII): Christina ROSSETTI (1830-1894), ENGLAND, “HE and SHE”, “EL şi EA”

January 1st, 2015 · Poetry, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CCCVIII): Christina ROSSETTI (1830-1894), ENGLAND, “HE and SHE”, “EL şi EA”
he and she
“HE and SHE”
Christina Rossetti
(1830-1894)

“Should one of us remember,
And one of us forget,
I wish I knew what each will do–
But who can tell as yet?”

“Should one of us remember,
And one of us forget,
I promise you what I will do—
And I’m content to wait for you,
And not be sure as yet.”

* * * *

“EL şi EA”
Christina Rossetti
(1830-1894)

De ne vom aminti, cândva,
Căci unul dintre noi, poate-ar uita,
Aşi vrea să ştiu, care din noi,
Sau cine ar putea-o face?

De ne vom aminti cândva,
Căci unul dintre noi, poate-ar uita,
Eu o să-ţi spun ce-aşi face:
Aşi fi felice să te-aştept,
Dar încă nu o pot s-o cred.

Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London
© 2014 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

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