Превод текста

Paul Verlaine - Car vraiment j’ai souffert beaucoup! Лирицс транслатион то енглисх


Translation

For I Have Suffered Very Hard


For I have suffered very hard!
Like a wolf, hunted and so farred
Chased animal completely worn,
No good respite, no safe shelter,
That leaps like game of fine leather,
Under the shots by folks forlorn.
 
Hatred and Envy and Money
Fine sleuths with a flair ready,
Surround me, tighten me. It's long
Of many days, of many weeks,
Of many years! Dining of leaks,
A meal of fears, gluttony strong!
 
But in horror of native woods
Here is the fatal Sighthound, or Death.
What a beast and a brute!
Me dead more than halfway, the End
Puts its palm on me to offend
This heart, fighting with a long suite,
 
And I cannot stop the bleeding
Stepping to the flow feeding
Cries through my most decent forests.
Let me die at least, my brothers,
Once for all, you the Wolves, others! -
Whom my sister, Woman, arrests.
 

equirhythmic
metered
poetic
rhyming


Још текстова песама из овог уметника: Paul Verlaine

Сви текстови песама на овој веб локацији су само за личну и образовну употребу.

Сви текстови песама су власништво и ауторска права њихових власника или власника.

Више лирицс транслатионс

17.03.2025

Our World is Beautiful (Villagers' Reprise)





From the highest point in the sky (To the end of the mines)
Where is the spark? (That illuminates us)
 

What did it look like?
If only we knew
If only this kingdom
Would become beautiful again
 


17.03.2025

Rain





Struggled, waiting for sun
The city tired of rains
You slept, crying, swallowing blood
When the dawn was seen on the horizon
 

I never complaint about fate
Even if it turned my morning into evening
With this evening, it brought
My heart that was left away
 

Little by little, it rained
My heart shattered into little pieces
When it became morning againi
'Do you love me?' - I asked
 

You never asked for anything
You admired my eyebrows and eyes a thousand times
Stroking your black hair,
I lost myself this night
 

Struggled, waiting for sun
The city tired of rains
Where do you go, swallowing blood?
Where would the dawn lead me?
 


17.03.2025

Sawah Lettuces





Sawah lettuces spread out all over the ricefields
Sawah lettuces spread out all over the ricefields
The boy's mother came by to pick some sawah lettuce
The boy's mother came by to pick some sawah lettuce
Without looking, she grabbed a bunch and left
The sawah lettuces has now been brought back home
 

In the morning, the sawah lettuces are sold at the market
In the morning, the sawah lettuces are sold at the market
Laid out in rows, all tied up as well to be sold
Laid out in rows, all tied up as well to be sold
The girl's mother bought some while carrying a woven basket
The sawah lettuces are now ready to be cooked
 

Sawah lettuces are placed in a pot of boiling water
Sawah lettuces are placed in a pot of boiling water
Half-cooked, it's then strained to be eaten as a side dish
Half-cooked, it's then strained to be eaten as a side dish
With two plates of rice and nasnaran, sitting on a divan
The sawah lettuce is eaten with rice
 


17.03.2025

The Little Bunch of Rushes





O maiden of the finest rushes1
What a pity for you that my bundle has come undone
Would you come with me, just the two of us
Under the bank of the wood with the brightest flowers
No priest would ever hear of it
Nor any living soul
Until the birds start to talk in human language
And the blackbird starts speaking Greek.
 

I’ve no stockings nor shoes
Not even a stool to sit down on
I haven't a penny in the whole wide world
Unless Jesus Christ should take pity on me
My trousers are threadbare
And as you know, my blanket is worn out
Yet still there are plenty of women in the taverns
Who chase after me just for the price of a drink
 

Oh, did you think to entice me, young man
With your flattery? Well, it did you no good
There’s many a sensible girl
Carrying a load who has been led astray
But I myself would rather carry heavy loads
And drag them till the day I die
Than have your child on my knee
Asking for news of you when you're nowhere to be found
 
  • 1. Rushes are a kind of grass-like plant used to make floor coverings and furniture, traditionally collected by young women. The motif of gathering rushes often has sexual connotation in folk songs of the British Isles and Ireland in both English and Irish. This song is no exception.