Marina Tsvetayeva - Стихи о Москве (Stikhi a Moskve) dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre

Translation

Poems About Moscow

1

Clouds - all around,
Cupolas - around,
Over all Moscow
Many arms are wound!-
I am lifting you, my best burden you
Oh my little tree
Flying weightlessly!

In this wonder-town,
In this peaceful town,
Where if I were dead
I'd be happy one,
To be king for you, and to grieve for you,
A wreath to take on,
Oh my one firstborn!

You to Sacrament bow
Do not blacken brows
And all forty - count -
Forty churches now.
You with steps do walk - with a young one's walk -
All the many thrills
Of the seven hills.

Time will come for you:
And the daughters - too
You will give Moscow
With sweet sorrow.
My sleep by my will, like a ringing bell,
Early dawns above -
On the Vagankov.

2

From my hands - not a hand-created town,
My gorgeous brother, my strange one.

Upon the church - Forty times forty, side by side,
And pigeons that above them glide.

And Spassky - with flowers - gate,
Where Orthodox Believer doffs his hat.

The starry belltower - haven from sin -
Where from the people's kisses floor is clean.

Incomparable five-cathedral round
Accept, my ancient and inspired friend.

To Unexpected Joy in the garden
I'll lead my guest from foreign land.

The sleepless bells will ring, will shine
The cupolas of gold very fine,

And a cloth will be dropped by Mother of God
Upon you from the purple clouds.

And you will get up, full of divine power..
And you won't repent that you were my lover.

2

From my hands - not a hand-created town,
My gorgeous brother, my strange one.

Upon the church - Forty times forty, side by side,
And pigeons that above them glide.

And Spassky - with flowers - gate,
Where Orthodox Believer doffs his hat.

The starry belltower - haven from sin -
Where from the people's kisses floor is clean.

Incomparable five-cathedral round
Accept, my ancient and inspired friend.

To Unexpected Joy in the garden
I'll lead my guest from foreign land.

The sleepless bells will ring, will shine
The cupolas of gold very fine,

And a cloth will be dropped by Mother of God
Upon you from the purple clouds.

And you will get up, full of divine power..
And you won't repent that you were my lover.

4

The day will come - a sad day, they say!
They'll finish ruling, finish crying, burn away -
Chilled with the others' nickels all the same -
My eyes, moveable like the flame.
And - like a double as his double he does sense -
The likeness will appear through light face.
O, I at last will merit thee,
A gorgeous belt of beauty!

And from afar - do I envy you? -
Absent-mindedly baptizing, will pull
A pilgrimage along the road black
To my hand, which I surely won't draw back,
To my hand, on which the ban no longer sits,
To my hand, that no more exists.

Your kisses, O the living ones,
I won't oppose at first - not one.
The majesty's beautiful shawl
Has shrouded me from head to heel.
Nothing will make me blush, today
I have a holy Easter day.

Along the streets of left-alone Moscow
I will drive forth, and you will slowly go.
And none will lag behind along the road,
And on coffin's roof will thunder the first stone -

And sleep, self-loving and lonely
Will be resolved finally.
And nothing will be needed to Marina
Our newly-introduced ballerina.

5

Above the city Peter cursed to hell
Rolled the delirious thunder of the bells.

Turned over thundering the high tide of the sea
Above the woman that was rebuked by thee.

To Peter and to you, O Tsar, praise be!
But bells are higher still than both of ye.

While they are ringing still out of the blue -
Indisputable, Moscow's primogeniture.

And sixteen hundred churches, near and far
All laugh at puny hubris of the tsars.

6

The rain of bells drizzles above
The blue of near-Moscow groves.
Blind men wander the Kaluga road -

Beautiful - Kaluga - song, and the same
Washes and washes the names
Of peaceful wanderers, in darkness of ones praising God.

And I think at these times: Someday I
Of you, friends, and you, enemies, having tired,
And of compliance of Russian word -

A silver cross on my chest I will don
Cross myself and quietly go along
The old Kaluga road.

7

Seven hills - just like seven bells!
Belltowers on the seven bells.
Sixteen hundred of them, to count them all.
Full of bells are these Moscow's seven hills!

In the ringing, fine-gold day of John
The Baptist was born. House like gingerbread,
And around a hedge, and around a hedge,
And the churches there stand with golden heads.

And as nuns were pouring to dining hall,
The first ringing I did love, I did love
And the sorceress from a neighbor's yard
And hot sleep and noise in the stove.

Do conduct me, all you imbecile,
Thieving, flagellant Moscow crowd!
Priest, shut my mouth more tightly still
With the ringing-bell Moscow's ground!

8

Moscow - what a giant
And strangely-mannered home!
In Russia all are homeless.
We all to you will come.

A knife behind a boot-leg,
A shoulder brand in shame.
From far away us all
You will call all the same.

Upon the penal brandings,
On every kind of ill -
A baby Panteleimon
We have, O man who heals,

And there behind that door,
Where all the people pour -
There the fine golden heart
Is burning of Iver.

And 'Halleluiah' pours
Upon the fields grown tan.
I kiss you in the bosom,
O the Moscow land!

9

With a red brush
The mountain-ash burned:
The leaves were falling
And I was born.

Hundreds of belltowers
Argued at least.
It was the Saturday:
John the Baptist.

And in my teeth now
I want to crush
The hot ashberry's
Bitter brush.

Az előadó további dalszöveg fordításait megtalálhatod a következő linken: Marina Tsvetayeva

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Minden dalszöveg tulajdon és szerzői joga a szerzőket vagy a szám tulajdonosait illeti.

További dalszöveg fordítások

Paolo Mengoli - Desaperecido dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre

2024.10.05.

Missing

I'll search for you every day to the source
like a salmon that swims upstream
and, defying the arrows, the bears, and the fishermen
arrives at the season of love.

I'll search for you in the eyes of the last friend,
I'll listen to the tolling of an ancient heart.
I'll search on the body of a lonely woman
the last “I love you” lost in her throat.

Dear missing love,
where have you gone, where have you ended up?
Dear missing love,
they threw you away like a dress.

They no longer want you, they no longer search for you,
you haven’t seen “love”,
I asked an old poet
but they had broken his pencil.

I'll search for you among the desks of an old schoolhouse
where in your book I left you a pansy.
I'll search in a song of revolution
another feeling and a song.

I'll search for you every day to the source
like a salmon swimming upstream,
a little hero at the risk of dying,
you give life to the sea for love.

Dear missing love,
where have you gone, where have you ended up?
Dear missing love,
they threw you away like a dress.

And they no longer want you, they no longer search for you,
you haven't seen 'love',
I asked an old poet
but they had broken his pencil.

Dear missing love.

~~~~~

Dear missing love.

Giorgio Consolini - Serenata celeste dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre

2024.10.05.

Heavenly serenade

Go
Heavenly serenade
Heavenly like the eyes of a woman
Who resembles so much a Madonna
Go
You who have known everything
Calm the heart that hasn't forgotten
The golden dreams that it hasn't dreamed
It hurts so much
The melancholy
Since my love
Is no longer mine
Go
Heavenly serenade
You who know how much I suffer and how sad I am
Just tell her about the tears it costs us
Heavenly serenade
And nothing more

To hear softly again:
“Good evening”
The taste of your kisses
To dream again
To give a little more peace
To this heart
To hear softly again:
“Good evening”

It hurts so much
The melancholy
Since my love
Is no longer mine
Go
Heavenly serenade
You who know how much I suffer and how sad I am
Just tell her about the tears it costs us
Heavenly serenade
And nothing more

Silvana Fioresi - Serenata celeste dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre

2024.10.05.

Heavenly serenade

Go
Heavenly serenade
Heavenly like the eyes of a woman
Who resembles so much a Madonna
Go
You who have known everything
Calm the heart of one who hasn’t forgotten
The golden dreams that they haven’t dreamed
It kills so much
The melancholy
Since my love
Is no longer mine
Go
Heavenly serenade
You, who know how much I suffer and how sad I am
Just tell her about the tears it costs us
Heavenly serenade and nothing more

To hear softly again:
“Good evening”
The taste of her kisses
To dream again
To give a little more light
To this heart
To hear softly again:
“Good evening”

You, who know how much I suffer and how sad I am
Just tell her about the tears it costs us
Heavenly serenade and nothing more

To hear softly again:
“Good evening”

Carlo Buti - Serenata celeste dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre

2024.10.05.

Heavenly serenade

Go
Heavenly serenade
Heavenly like the eyes of a woman
Who resembles so much a Madonna
Go
You who have known everything
Calm the heart that hasn’t forgotten
The golden dreams that it hasn’t dreamed
It kills so much
The melancholy
Since my love
Is no longer mine
Go
Heavenly serenade
You, who know how much I suffer and how sad I am
Just tell her the tears it costs us
Heavenly serenade
And nothing more

To hear softly again:
“Good evening”
The taste of your kisses
To dream again
To give a little more light
To this heart
To hear softly again:
“Good evening”

Go
You who have known everything
Calm the heart that hasn’t forgotten
The golden dreams that it hasn’t dreamed
It kills so much
The melancholy
Since my love
Is no longer mine
Go
Heavenly serenade
You, who know how much I suffer and how sad I am
Just tell her the tears it costs us
Heavenly serenade
And nothing more

To hear softly again:
“Good evening”