segunda-feira, 20 de novembro de 2006

Rainer Maria Rilke (1)


R. M. Rilke by B. Pasternak

Einsamkeit

Die Einsamkeit ist wie ein Regen.
Sie steigt vom Meer den Abenden entgegen;
von Ebenen, die fern sind und entlegen,
geht sie zum Himmel, der sie immer hat.
Und erst vom Himmel fällt sie auf die Stadt.

Regnet hernieder in den Zwitterstunden,
wenn sich nach Morgen wenden alle Gassen
und wenn die Leiber, welche nichts gefunden,
enttäuscht und traurig von einander lassen;
und wenn die Menschen, die einander hassen,
in einem Bett zusammen schlafen müssen:

dann geht die Einsamkeit mit den Flüssen…

Paris, den 21. September 1902

Solidão

A solidão é como a chuva.
Sobe do mar nas tardes em declínio,
das planícies perdidas na saudade;
eleva‑se ao céu, que é seu domínio,
para então cair sobre a cidade.

Chove às horas dúbias, quando os becos
anseiam longamente pela aurora;
quando os corpos se abandonam tristes
com a desilusão que a carne chora;
quando as gentes, os seus ódios sufocando,
num mesmo leito se vão deitar: é quando

a solidão com os rios vai passando…

Paris, 21 de Setembro de 1902

(Tradução de RIC com base noutras versões)

Solitude

Solitude is like a rain.
It rises from the sea to meet the evening;
it rises from the dim, far distant plain
toward the sky, as by an old birthright.
And thence falls on the city from the height.

It falls like rain in that gray doubtful hour
when all the streets are turning toward the dawn,
and when those bodies, with all hope foregone
of what they sought, are sorrowfully alone;
and when all men, who hate each other, creep
together in one common bed for sleep;

then solitude flows onward with the rivers…

Solitude

La solitude est comme la pluie.
Elle naît de la mer pour rencontrer les crépuscules,
s'élevant des plaines lointaines et dispersées
vers les cieux qui la dominent
pour en retomber sur la ville.

Elle tombe comme la pluie sur cette heure douteuse,
lorsque les rues se retournent vers l'aube.
Et lorsque les corps déchus de leur idée
fixe se retrouvent seuls.
Et quand tous les hommes qui se haïssent
montent ensemble dans un seul et même lit pour dormir.


Alors la solitude s'écoule dans les fleuves…

(Version améliorée par Joël. Merci beaucoup!)

14 comentários:

Anónimo disse...

Duke Ellington has a composition titles "Solitude" that matches these words in a magical abstraction (music is a magical abstraction -- vibrations in the air that in combination can push every emotional button one possess in one's brain -- gets no more magical than that).

Will add it to the "Saturday Night Soup for the Soul" recurring blog on GMR sometime. Would you liek to eb a guest contributor there sometime?

RIC disse...

I do agree with you, Will, as afr as music is concerned: «it gets no more magical than that»...
Thank you very much for the invite, Will! I promise to try and get into the «matter's spirit» all through this week. I'll keep you posted about it!
Thanks!

Jack disse...

Hi Ric,

did you do the translation?

RIC disse...

Hello Joel! Oops!... I completely forgot about that, so absorbed was I by the poems themselves... Thank God my name shows only as a possible editor, which for poetry doesn't work...
I wish I did!... Is anything wrong about them (English and French)? They seem quite alright to me... Specially the English one, so full of rhythm!

T-Bird disse...

it seems as if it were originated in english to me

Minge disse...

That was beautiful and has left me speechless.

RIC disse...

Hello Will! Well, I obviously cannot say I had the same impression about it, but at least I did enjoy the poem maybe as much as the original, whereas you feel somehow the French one is not original.

RIC disse...

Hello Minge! Thank you!
You've got to get your speech back again soon, because I like to hear your voice, okay?...
I believe Rilke is not that much known in the UK, although there are wonderful English translations of his poetry - at least, so I've been told...
Have a marvellous week!

kevin disse...

Im not a poetry man myself so i cannot appreciate it in its entirity but it certainly has meaning.

Kevin in NZ

Jack disse...

You know Ric, it's well translated for a text. Not a poem.

But in English, I like it alot.

RIC disse...

Hello Kevin! I guess the most important thing about poetry is that it always gives you something... somehow according to your own expectations. If you've found some meaning, then you got a message...
I prefer music to poetry myself, as a matter of fact.
Thanks!

RIC disse...

Hello Joel! I believe you mean the French version in your first paragraph. That's exactly one of the main differences between Romanic and Germanic languages (English in the middle...): according to my experience and knowledge (!), some marvellous German poetry, for instance, just fades away in Portuguese (or French) translation, regardless of the translator's qualities.
In this case, I believe the English version is definitely of a much higher quality than the French one, which seems to be just a litteral translation. As to the Portuguese, I've tried everything possible to «land» somewhere in between: not absolutely litteral, but I couldn't reach the beauty of the English one either, not to mention the original...
Have a great day, dear friend!
(Btw, do you know Jacques Prévert and his poetry? I guess I'll be soon posting about him...)

Jack disse...

How's that?

LA SOLITUDE...

La solitude est comme la pluie.
Naît de la mer pour rencontrer les crépuscules.
S’élevant des plaines lointaines et disperser.
Vers les Cieux comme un droit inné.
Pour en retomber sur la ville.

Elle tombe comme la pluie sur cette heure douteuse.
Lorsque les rues se retournent vers l’aube.
Et lorsque ces corps déchu de leur idée.
Fixe se retrouve seul.
Et quand tous les hommes qui ce hais.
Monte ensemble dans un seul et même lit pour dormir.

Alors la solitude vogue de l’avant avec les fleuves…

RIC disse...

Hello Joel! Thank you so very much for your contribution! I'm going to read it most carefully. Did you translate it? From the English version? I'll e-mail you my doubts, questions, and opinion, okay?