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

POETRY IN TRANSLATION (CCXLI): Herbert ASQUITH, (1881-1947), ENGLISH Poet, “The Fallen Subaltern”, “Soldatul-Erou”

December 23rd, 2013 · Comments Off on POETRY IN TRANSLATION (CCXLI): Herbert ASQUITH, (1881-1947), ENGLISH Poet, “The Fallen Subaltern”, “Soldatul-Erou” · International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

The Fallen Subaltern
Hebert Asquith
(1881-1947)

The starshells float above, the bayonets glisten;
We bear our fallen friend without a sound;
Below the waiting legions lie and listen
To us, who march upon their burial-ground.
Soldatul-Erou
Herbert Asquith
(1881-1947)

În cânt de clopote şi în sclipiri de săbii
Tovaraşul de arme-l îngropăm,
Iar în ţărână suflete-adormite
Ascultă cum păşim mormântul lor.
Rendered in Romanian by: Constantin ROMAN,
© 2013, Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

POETRY IN TRANSLATION (CCXXXVIII): British Anonymous Poet, “Non mi tangere”, “Nu mă atinge”

December 13th, 2013 · Comments Off on POETRY IN TRANSLATION (CCXXXVIII): British Anonymous Poet, “Non mi tangere”, “Nu mă atinge” · Diaspora, International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations

Non mi tangere
(ANONYMOUS BRITISH)

I need air to kindle the flame of my Desire
I need the reflection of your face coming out of the shadows,
I need so much and feel that I receive so little
To quench this insatiable thirst of you,
To smother you in my embrace and hold you tight to my breast.
To feel your halting breath enveloping my body,
That tactile dialogue of untold complicities.

I know that I am nurturing a hope of intangible dreams,
Of a surreal world, the product of my burning desire,
Devouring the secret corners of my soul,
Turning it to dust.

But I wished the embers of our Love
To cast a light for ever,
Upon the darkest hours of our World.
I want to sing a Hymn to the angels above
I want . . .
I want so much
To assuage the thirst of our Love,
To allay our deepest fears
That we may ever be parted!

But, of late, I came to realize this to be my quest of the Impossible,
A hopeless quest of bridging the ocean of our Expectations:
You, on one hand, with your youthful dreams
Of building castles in the air:
Who can blame you?
I, on the other hand, reaching the end of the road,
Consuming a hopeless Dream,
As you warned me:
“Non mi tangere! Non mi tangere piu!”
But in the twilight of the night I did not listen to you,
As you embraced another World…

I feel like a lark, trying to reach the Sun,
Only to turn to ashes,
For the temerity
Of its dreams…

Poetry in Translation (CCXXXVII): W. H. AUDEN, (1907, York – 1973, Vienna): “Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone”, “Oprește orologiul”

December 9th, 2013 · Comments Off on Poetry in Translation (CCXXXVII): W. H. AUDEN, (1907, York – 1973, Vienna): “Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone”, “Oprește orologiul” · PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Poetry in Translation (CCXXXIV – CCXXXVI): Ion CAROIAN (1923, Romania – 1986, Switzerland): “Hope”, “Snow” and “You are weary Wanderer”

December 7th, 2013 · Comments Off on Poetry in Translation (CCXXXIV – CCXXXVI): Ion CAROIAN (1923, Romania – 1986, Switzerland): “Hope”, “Snow” and “You are weary Wanderer” · Diaspora, International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations

“You are weary, wanderer”
Ion CAROIAN (1923-1986)

“You are weary, wanderer,
As we are filing in a single line, hooded,
(a fistful of nothingness).
They – the ignorant retainers,
Digested through the stomach of time.
They – the decent rabble.
Give Caesar his dues!
As for the rest, to Hell!”

(English version by: Constantin ROMAN,
© 2013, Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London)

Poetry in Translation (CCXXXII): England, Philip LARKIN (1922-1985), “Heads in the Women’s Ward”, “Azil”

December 3rd, 2013 · Comments Off on Poetry in Translation (CCXXXII): England, Philip LARKIN (1922-1985), “Heads in the Women’s Ward”, “Azil” · International Media, Poetry, quotations, Translations, Uncategorized

Philip LARKIN (1922-1985)
Heads in the Women’s Ward
On pillow after pillow lies
The wild white hair and staring eyes;
Jaws stand open; necks are stretched
With every tendon sharply sketched;
A bearded mouth talks silently
To someone no one else can see.
Sixty years ago they smiled
At lover, husband, first-born child.
Smiles are for youth. For old age come
Death’s terror and delirium.

Poetry in Translation; (CCXXXI): Anonymous, ENGLAND, “Non temere l’amore di ieri””

December 2nd, 2013 · Comments Off on Poetry in Translation; (CCXXXI): Anonymous, ENGLAND, “Non temere l’amore di ieri”” · International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Non temere l’amore di ieri

Fear not the love of yore –
As long as it’s alive,
Reborn in our hearts
Entwined in our minds.

Let us relive again
A torrid night of love,
More than we had before,
Or greater than we know,
Recalling yesteryear’s
Ever-nostalgic dreams…

Call me! and have no fear:
One only night of Love!
Night of a carnal bliss,
To live the everlasting,
Ever-redeeming dream!

Poetry in Translation (CCXXIX): Rabrindranath TAGORE, (1861-1941), INDIA, “My Song”, “Cântec”

November 30th, 2013 · Comments Off on Poetry in Translation (CCXXIX): Rabrindranath TAGORE, (1861-1941), INDIA, “My Song”, “Cântec” · International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

My Song
Rabrindranath Tagore
(1861-1941), India

This song of mine will wind its music around you,
my child, like the fond arms of love.
The song of mine will touch your forehead
like a kiss of blessing.
When you are alone it will sit by your side and
whisper in your ear, when you are in the crowd
it will fence you about with aloofness.
My song will be like a pair of wings to your dreams,
it will transport your heart to the verge of the unknown.
It will be like the faithful star overhead
when dark night is over your road.
My song will sit in the pupils of your eyes,
and will carry your sight into the heart of things.
And when my voice is silenced in death,
my song will speak in your living heart.

Poetry in Translation (CCXXVII): Theo DORGAN, (b. 1953, Cork), IRELAND, “A Slow Poem”, “Sfială”

November 22nd, 2013 · Comments Off on Poetry in Translation (CCXXVII): Theo DORGAN, (b. 1953, Cork), IRELAND, “A Slow Poem”, “Sfială” · International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

I place my finger with great care
on the sleeping magnificent body of my beloved.
The room is quiet and huge, the air still, so still
I hear dust motes falling like leaves on the counterpane.

I stop my breathing and she fills me up
with swell of breath, the rise and fall of tides
so quiet and silver there, I am carried up and out of touch;

and she is far below me, curled into me,
her skin sufficient boundary, her dreams and trouble stilled.
Her troubles become diamond in my chest, I tip and balance

here beneath the ceiling, full of airy, thoughtful love, then fall
as slowly as leaves falling on a field,
until I settle there beside her, breathing her breath.

Poetry in Translation (CCXXV): ANONYMOUS British Poet, “If only … ”, “De aş fi doar…”

November 18th, 2013 · Comments Off on Poetry in Translation (CCXXV): ANONYMOUS British Poet, “If only … ”, “De aş fi doar…” · Diaspora, International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

If only …
(British Anonymous)

If only I were a mint leaf,
in your cocktail glass,
I would add freshness
to your eyes…

If only I were a glazed cherry,
adding a touch of colour,
I would bring a sweet-bitter taste
to your palate …

If I were a bitter lemon
in your signature cocktail,
I would add a touch of reality
to our stormy Love …

If I were an ice cube,
cajoled in your shaker,
I would extinguish the fire
of your burning desire …

If only …

Poetry in Translation (CCXXIII): ANONYMOUS, BRITISH Poet, “Lament”

November 15th, 2013 · Comments Off on Poetry in Translation (CCXXIII): ANONYMOUS, BRITISH Poet, “Lament” · Diaspora, International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations

LAMENT

Gone are the hopes
In morning’s mist,
Unfolding
London’s spell,
In all my dreams.
Of days gone bye,
Am longing
More and more…
Of our trysts
Do hope, in vain,
In one more night
Of love!

(Chelsea, November 16)

Centre for Romanian Studies