a small language can have a big literature. yet it remains unknown untranslated.
a song about muteness. one of those songs. they say it has been voted among the best latvian songs ever (well, up to 2009, at least, and i am sure nothing has changed since). here it goes. the translation is a little awkward, and the rhyme is lost mostly. sorry for that. The sky above me…
the musical itself is… one can watch it once or twice. this song though, is worth looking at again. Time hangs me like a suit in its wardrobe, to be the food for all the world’s moths Time hangs us like a suit in its wardrobe, to be the food for all the world’s…
he formed the definition of what poet is, in my world. and how to see the world. Imants Ziedonis. The Master of Clarity. Passed on to the next world on this day. i am happy he did. and i hurt, as a poet and as a latvian. let his journey be light. you will have…
there is something untranslatable about the latvian folk-song. so, mission impossible: translate one, so it makes sense. i’d value your input about whether it does or not. comments are open. 🙂 Teici, teici, valodiņa, Ko upīte burbulēja, Ko upīte burbulēja, Ko pogoja lakstīgal’! Kur upīte burbulēja, Tur uzplauka pumpuriņi: Kur ļautiņi klausījāsi, Tur valodas daudzināj’.…
this is a translation from “Dīvainā karaļvalsts” (The strange kingdom) by J. Rubenis. i kinda found it a little bit inspiring. especially the bird part. PUTNU SARUNA Reiz divi putni pils dārzā savā starpā sarunājās. “Bruņinieks saprot putnu valodu un ir nelaimīgs, jo viņš arī grib būt putns,” teica viens. “Vērojot putnus, viņš ir iemācījies…
three chrysanthemums in a vase/the roses are all wilted long ago;//do not come to me, seek me no more,/what has been, is all passed and gone there was a time when your eyes/held my gaze so tightly,//but now, in these dark autumn nights/all i have is a sad smile. she who comes first, will have…
this song… so very much my autumn song. annually. Do not approach me in autumn,/ i must be alone in fall//- Where the leaves lie like tiles on the roof, /and winds will do for the walls.
a number of things took place today in the morning. i rose from the dead bed. in doing so, i caused a book-slide. quite effective, really. fortunately, for a change, no horrible injuries for my precious person resulted. now i will have to put the books back. a book of poems fell from the top…
one of songs of experience (no reference to william blake here). one of the songs i really could not dig when i was, probably, having the experiences mentioned here. i still have them, of course. (translation of the lyrics below) I am rich – I own all that has ever happened to me.// The hours…
no, i don’t exist, i am just a thought – from the beginning to the end. and do believe it! you will feel better, when raising a glass to health.
Among cars, engines, girls freezing on street corners, amidst roar, howl and whistle – is it nightmare or a greeting? – the voice of a cuckoo.
Imants Ziedonis. Epifānijas. 1978. this is my contribution to this time of traditional latvian whatever they think is proper to do in the graveyards. a translation with some elements of adaptation, on the revelation of then and there, which somehow also is here and now. epiphanies rule. ================= Sometimes I feel graveyards need a reform.…
A goat went to the cabbage field Козел пошел в область капусты this much of translation programmes
I promised I’d put this up. It is a translation of a Latvian tale by Karlis Skalbe. So, here it is: Tale of a Mouse A prince, whose bride had died on the wedding-day, was sitting at the table. He was dressed in gold. A red rose was his buttonhole, yet his heart had but…
