A keresés eredménye

At the funeral of a dead leaf

Versions: #1
I saw two snails leaving
With black shells
And crepe on their antennae
 
It is evening
A beautiful autumn evening
 
But when they arrive
Spring has sprung
And the leaves once dead
Have been resurrected
 
The two snails
Are very disappointed
 
However, the sun rises
And tells them
To bother themselves
If so inclined...
To consider sitting down
And having a beer
 
It tells them
If they like...
To think about taking
The bus to Paris
The one that leaves tonight
You will see the country
 
But don't grieve
Because it blackens the white of the eye
And makes it ugly
 
The stories of coffins
Are sad and grotesque
 
Take your colors
The colors of life
So that all the animals
And the trees and plants
Start to sing
Sing loudly
The true song of life
The song of summer
 
Everyone's drinking
They all touch their glasses
In the best of evenings
A lovely summer evening
 
And the two snails
Head back home
Leaving very moved
And very happy
 
They drank so much
That they can't stand straight
But in that night sky
The moon watches over them.
 

Ez a szerelem

Ez a szerelem
oly' indulatos
oly' törékeny
oly' gyengéd
oly' reménytelen
Ez a szerelem
Gyönyörū, mint a napvilág
És undok, mint az idõjárás
Már amikor az idõjárás undok
Ez a szerelem oly' igazi
Ez a szerelem oly' magasztos
oly' boldog
oly' vidám
És oly' nevetséges
Úgy reszket a félelemtõl, mint egy gyermek a sötétben
És annyira biztos magában,
Mint egy békés férfi az éjszaka közepén
Ez a szerelem, mely megfélemlítette a másokat
Mely beszédre bírta õket
Mely elsápasztotta õket
Ez a szemmel tartott szerelem
Merthogy szemmel tartjuk õt
Meghajszolt, megsebzett, megtaposott, kiégett, megtagadott, elfeledett
Mert mi meghajszoltuk, megsebzettük, megtapostuk, kiégettük, megtagadtuk, elfeledtük
Ez a szerelem oly' teljes
Oly' élettel teli
És teljes fényben pompázó
A tiéd
Az enyém
Az ami egykoron volt
Ez a valami, ami mindig tud újat mutatni
Miközben ugyanaz marad
Annyira valódi, mint egy növény
Annyira reszketõ, mint egy madár
Annyira forró, annyira élettel teli, mint a nyár
Mindketten képesek vagyunk
Elmenni, majd visszajönni
Képesek vagyunk felejteni
És visszaaludni
Felkelni, szenvedni, öregedni
Majdaztán ismét elaludni
A halálról álmodni,
Megébredni, mosolyogni és nevetni
És megfiatalodni
A mi szerelmünk nem mozdul
Csökönyös, mint egy szamár
Élettel teli, mint a vágy
Rideg, mint a az emlékezés
Ostoba, mint a megbánás
Lágy, mint az emlékek
Hideg, mint a márvány
Gyönyörū, mint a napvilág
Törékeny, mint egy gyermek
Mosolyogva néz reánk
És szavak nélkül beszél hozzánk
És én remegve hallgatom õt
És üvöltök
Üvöltök érted
Üvöltök magamért
Könyörgök neki
Érted, értem és mindazokért akik szeretik egymást
És akik valaha szerették egymást
Érted, értem és mindazokért
Akiket nem ismerek
Maradj ott
Ott ahol vagy
Ott ahol egykoron voltál
Maradj ott
Ne mozdulj
Ne menj el
Mi, akik szerettük egymást
Elfeledtünk téged
Te ne felejts el minket
Csak te vagy nekünk ezen a földön
Ne hagyd, hogy teljes ridegségbe burkolódzunk
Mindig egy kicsivel messzebb,
És bárhol is légy
Adj nekünk életjelet
Sokkal késöbb egy bokor tövébõl
Az emlékek erdõjében
Bukkanj fel hirtelen
Nyújtsd felénk kezed
És ments meg minket.
 

The birds of worry

Rain of feathers, feathers of rain
The one who loved you is no longer here
What do you want from me birds?
Rain of feathers feathers of rain
Since you are no longer here, I don’t know anymore
I am lost
Rain of feathers, feathers of rain
I no longer know what to do
Shroud of rain rain of soot
Is it possible that never again
Feathers of soot...go out swallows!
Leave your nests... huh?what ? Isn’t it the season for travel?
I don’t care to go out of this room
Swallows of morning
Swallows of night go away... where? Huh? So stay
I am the one who will leave...
Feathers of soot soot of feathers I will go nowhere
And then here and there.
Stay here birds of despair!
Stay here...
Make yourself at home.
 

Travel to Persia

That day,
 
Death had already come several times
 
To ask for me.
 
But I had her told
That I was not home
 
For I had other fish to fry
Than to listen to her
 
Other cats to whip
 
And more precisely
The Cat.Shah of Persia
 
That I had captured
 
Baiting him with a superb piece of green meat
 
- the Cat.Shahs of Persia relish on it -
 
One day, as he went away
 
With his companions
 
Music in mind
 
On the road to Tehran
 
It was a cracking party day
 
And he felt very happy
 
At the thought that poor peasants
 
Could be whipped.
 
So I carried him in a big suitcase
 
And showed him
 
For free
 
To the peasants
 
And then I whipped him
publicly
 
Asking no tip
 
And all the peasants got very happy.
 
I put him back into
The suitcase
 
And carried on my trip
through Persia
 
My pleasure travel
 
Pleasure for the others
 
For little children and also their parents
 
Because, as for me, I felt no pleasure at all
 
In beating the monarch
 
Simply the same tiredness
 
That one feels beating Persian
 
Carpets.
 
When suddenly appeared
 
A Londonian animal,
 
A perfect Limehouse gentleman up on the rooves
 
He was just passing and introduced himself:
 
I am the nine-tail tomcat
 
I know the job
 
And I can give you a hand at it
 
Here are my fees:
 
I want mice every day.
 
Sounds perfect, I said.
 
And, as well, I want to be allowed to stop
 
At will on the road
 
If a she-cat I like
 
Happens to pass on that road.
 
All right, I said, all right.
 
And be allowed to make love to her
 
The tomcat pointed out
 
And I want birds
 
To offer as presents to her
 
All right, all right, everything you want
 
I said.
 
I was so tired
 
And things went better.
 
The tomcat beat the Cat.Shah of Persia
 
Really correctly
 
And I beat my drum
 
And the peasants grew happier and happier
 
And they brought to the Cat.Shah
 
Mice and corn-rats
 
And, for me,
 
Things were just the same
 
Fresh drinks
 
And beautiful girls kissing me on my lips
 
In short,.it was fabulous
 
And, even, one day,
 
Some weavers
 
Offered to the cat and me
 
A genuine flying-carpet.
 
You will go faster this way, they told us
 
To go touring.
 
This way, the whole Persian country
 
Will get a clearer view of the
 
so comforting show.
 
But,suddenly, one day,
 
The Cat.Shah
 
looked at us painfully:
 
Is this little game going to last long ?
 
I can still remember precisely
 
What his face kooked like and what the weather looked like
 
That very day, at the same time,
 
The weather was so fine.
 
We were arriving on the carpet
 
Six or nine thousand feet over Tehran
 
And the Tomcat told the Cat.Shah,
 
Gently, all smiles,
 
Come on, come on,
 
Don't go complaining,
Your Majesty,
 
Had we wanted it so
 
We might have killed you
 
Or locked you up
 
In a big translucent jar
 
In the company of wicked gherkins
 
There, you would have died of thirst,
 
Been tormented in a thousand ways
 
Good Lord,
 
said the Cat.Shah
 
One must not do things like these
 
And then, he went on:
 
At the onset, I got surprised, it astonished me and, I should say, it pleased me, to be honest, it was new, you understand, but now, I become fed up!
 
It hurts a lot, you know, and it's humiliating, not to mention the fact that I look like a zebra now,.a zebra on the throne of Persia, you must admit it is sheer Shahcking, to say the least and I mean every word I say, yet I must confess to you that I'm not happy, no, not happy at all
 
At all at all at all
 
At all at all
 
At all
 
But, what does it matter,
 
The tomcat said
 
Since we're all happy,
 
We.
 
And we went down to town
 
Where everyone was revelling,
 
Where,everywhere, the joy of living
 
Was walking, all naked, in the street,
 
Where, everywhere, drunk Persians could be seen,
 
And welcomed us.
 
It's all fine,
 
The tomcat said.
 
Life is great
 
The throne is empty
 
But the wine-tubs are full
 
Alas,
 
I can't recognize my town any more,
 
the monarch said.
 
What is to become of me ?
 
Me
 
In all this ?
 
You gonna make yourself useful.
The tomvat said.
And , to start with, you will clean my dish.
 

Song of the gaoler.

Where are you going, you, handsome gaoler?
Holding this blood-stained Key?
I'm going to free the woman I love,
If it is still the Time to,
And whom I have locked up
Tenderly, cruelly,
In the deep of my desire
In the deepest of my torment
In the lies about the future
In all the stupid oaths
I want to free her
I want her to be free
Even to forget me
Even even to flee
Even to Come back one
Day and love me again
Or to love another man
If another man pleases her
If I remain alone
And she remains away
I'll only keep, only,
And I'll keep for ever
In the hollow of my hands
Till the end of my days
THe softness of her breasts
That had been shaped by Love.
 

Song of the Seine

THe Seine is so lucky.
Coz it has no worry.
It flows a happy life
Both at day and at night.
It comes out of its Spring
So softly, noiselessly
Without being mossy
Without leaving its bed
It goes to the seaside
Just passing through Paris.
 
The Seine is so lucky
Coz it has no worry
And when it has a walk
Along along its wharves
With its so nice green dress
And all its golden lights
Our Lady, so jealous,
So stern and immobile
From the top of its stones
Gives it a few ogles.
 
But the Seine doesn't Care
No, it has no worry
It flows a happy life
Both at day and at night
It goes towards Le Havre
It goes to the seaside
Passing, as in a Dream,
Amidst the mysteries
Miseries of Paris.
 

Song of the Glazier

How fine it is
what you can see just like that
through the sand through the glass
through the window panes
here look for example
how fine it is
that woodcutter
way over there
who is cutting down a tree
to make planks
for the joiner
who has to make a big bed
for the little flower-seller
who is going to marry
the lamplighter
who lights the street lamps every evening
so that the cobbler can see
to repair the shoes of the shoe-shine boy
who brushes those of the knife-grinder
who sharpens the scissors of the hairdresser
who cuts the hair of the bird seller
who gives his birds to everyone
to put everyone in a good mood.
 

Life is a cherry

Life is a cherry
Death is a stone*
Love, a cherry tree.
 

The great man and the guardian angel

You'll stay there,
sentinel,
at the brothel's door
and you'll watch over
my Solemnity1
while I pay the ladies a visit.
Any man must have a bit of fun!
 

• 1. there is a pun on 'garder son sérieux'(keep a straight face) that is hard to render since it hinges on the double meaning of 'garder'

This translation does not claim to be of any particular value.
Glad if you liked it, sorry if you didn't.
You can reuse it as you please.
Glad if it's for knowledge or understanding, sorry if it's just for money or fame.

A plentiful morning

1It is so frightful, the noise
of a hardboiled egg being shelled against a pewter counter.
That noise is so frightful
when it stirs in the memories of the hungry man.
It is frightful too, the head of the man
the head of the hungry man
when it's 6AM and he looks at his reflection
in the window of the department store.
A head the color of dust.
Still, it's not at his own head he's looking at
in the grocery's2 window.
The man does not give a damn about his head.
He doesn't think about it.
He's musing.
He pictures another head.
A calf's head3 for instance,
served with vinegar sauce,
or the head of anything edible,
and he gently works his jaw,
gently,
and he grinds his teeth gently,
because the whole world is taking the mickey4 out of him
and he can't defend against this world,
and he's counting on his fingers: one, two, three.
One, two, three,
it's been three days since he last ate.
And though he keeps saying to himself
it can't go on like this,
it does go on.
Three days,
three nights
with nothing to eat,
and behind these windows,
these patés, these bottles, these jars,
dead fishes preserved by cans,
cans sheltered by windows,
windows watched over by cops
cops protected by fear.
So many barricades for a mere half-dozen sardines...
A bit further away, the bar,
flat white and hot croissants.
The man staggers
and inside his head
a haze of words
a haze of words
sardines to eat,
hardboiled egg, flat white
coffee spiked with rhum
flat white
flat white
bled white sprinkled with blood!...
A gentleman well esteemed in his neighbourhood
had his throat slit in broad daylight.
The murderer, a tramp, robbed him
of two francs,
that is a liqueur coffee:
zero dot seventy francs,
two buttered slices of bread
and twenty five cents for the waiter's tip.
It is so frightful, the noise
of a hardboiled egg being shelled against a pewter counter.
That noise is so frightful
when it stirs in the memories of the hungry man.
 

• 1. 'grasse matinée' (lit. 'fat morning') means 'a lie-in', but here it can be understood as 'a morning with plenty to eat'
• 2. 'Félix Potin' was a popular grocery franchise
• 3. Calf head is a popular dish made of chopped and jellied calf meat, including parts of the head, usually served warm with a vinegar sauce
• 4. the French idiom uses 'head'

Do whatever you want with my translations. I'm not rich enough to sue you anyway.

The sun shines for the whole world.

The sun shines for the whole world, it doesn't shine neither through the prisons, nor for those who work into the mine,
those who flake the fish,
those who consume the worst in quality beef,
those who create the pins for hair,
those who breathe the empty bottles that others have already consumed,
those who cut their pain down with their knife,
those who spend their holidays in the steweries,
those who don't know what they must say,
those who milk the cows and don't drink their milk,
those whom we don't meet at the dentist,
those who spit their lungs inside the metro stations,
those who create inside the caves the pens with which others write out of thin air what's best for them,
those who have much to say so as to speak out loud,
those who have a job,
those who don't have a job,
those who look for it,
those who don't look for it,
those who make purposes to the horses,
those who watch their dog perish,
those whose everyday pain is relatively weekly,
those who seek warmth on churches at wintertime,
those sent by Helvetia to seek warmth outside,
those who languish,
those who would like to live through eating,
those who travel amongst the streets,
those who watch the Seine flowing,
those whom we engage, whom we thank, whom we develop, whom we diminish, whom we manipulate, whom we decieve, whom we induce to sleep,
those whose fingerprints are taken,
those who are disqualified and shot,
those whom we need to pass over before the Arc,
those who don't know self-control in this entire world,
those who have never seen the sea,
those who smell the flax because they work on that,
those who have no running water,
those who are doomed to the sea,
those who drop the salt into the snow so as to obtain an utterly despicable salary,
those who grow old much faster than the others,
those who suffer from boredom on sunday afternoons
because they want for monday to come over.
So do they for tuesday, wednesday, thursday, friday
and saturday
and the sunday afternoon.
 
Οι μεταφράσεις μου μέχρι ένα εφικτό σημείο είναι δικές μου. Δέχομαι βελτιώσεις μόνο αν θεωρώ ότι κάποια μετάφρασή μου έχει παράδοθεί ελλιπής ή εντελώς εσφαλμένη.
My translations are mine up to a considerable extent. I accept improvements only if I consider that any translation of mine has been delivered inaccurate or completely wrong.