There are several great Brazilian poets, my favorite being Manuel Bandeira. However, all the translations I found in internet are not good. I am posting one of is many wonderful verses in Portugues (at the end). And I would love to share one of my favorite poems - this one from the Greek K. Kavafis.
ITHACA
As you set out for Ithaca
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - don’t be afraid of them:
you’ ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon - you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbours you’re seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind -
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.
Keep Ithaca always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But don’t hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaca to make you rich.
Ithaca gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn’t have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaca won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
and this is the meaning of Ithaca.
Author : Konstantinos Petrou Kavafis
VOU-ME EMBORA PRA PASSARGADA
Vou-me embora pra Pasárgada
Lá sou amigo do rei
Lá tenho a mulher que eu quero
Na cama que escolherei
Vou-me embora pra Pasárgada
Vou-me embora pra Pasárgada
Aqui eu não sou feliz
Lá a existência é uma aventura
De tal modo inconseqüente
Que Joana a Louca de Espanha
Rainha e falsa demente
Vem a ser contraparente
Da nora que nunca tive
E como farei ginástica
Andarei de bicicleta
Montarei em burro brabo
Subirei no pau-de-sebo
Tomarei banhos de mar!
E quando estiver cansado
Deito na beira do rio
Mando chamar a mãe-d’água
Pra me contar as histórias
Que no tempo de eu menino
Rosa vinha me contar
Vou-me embora pra Pasárgada
Em Pasárgada tem tudo
É outra civilização
Tem um processo seguro
De impedir a concepção
Tem telefone automático
Tem alcalóide à vontade
Tem prostitutas bonitas
Para a gente namorar
E quando eu estiver mais triste
Mas triste de não ter jeito
Quando de noite me der
Vontade de me matar
Lá sou amigo do rei
Terei a mulher que eu quero
Na cama que escolherei
Vou-me embora pra Pasárgada.
Author : Manuel Bandeira
Dear Mr Coelho
I have always admired your work - there is even great beauty in the silent spaces between your words. Here is a piece of my work - I’m not quite sure why I chose this one to send.
Love and light,
Iwan
PATSY CLINE
“Blue moon of Kentucky, keep on a-shinin’”
Ended up in India
The waves beneath my feet
Perhaps it was some other place?
(The Darkness has no memory)
“Shine on the one that’s gone and left me blue”
Stood drowning
My tidal limbs submerged
Lunar love’s a slow eclipse
(Our Sea of Tranquility)
“It was on one moonlit night, stars shinin’ bright”
These scissor hands are islands
Marooned below this heart
Apocalyptic passion ruled from the start
(Karma - a voracious wheel)
“Whispered on high, love said goodbye”
Contemplate her sorry flight
Flames of change that brought new life
Each day’s a death within a death
(Ghandi? Louisville? Me – or fate?)
AM I SINGER OR AM I HUMAN
AM
I
PATSY CLINE
?
[Reply]
(Serbia) Mozda spava - Vladislav Petkovic - DIS
Zaboravio sam jutros pesmu jednu ja,
Pesmu jednu u snu sto sam svu noc slusao:
Da je cujem uzalud sam danas kusao,
Kao da je pesma bila sreca moja sva.
Zaboravio sam jutros pesmu jednu ja.
U snu svome nisam znao za budjenja moc,
I da zemlji treba sunca, jutra i zore;
Da u danu gube zvezde bele odore;
Bledi mesec da se krece u umrlu noc.
U snu svome nisam znao za budjenja moc.
Ja sad jedva mogu znati da imadoh san,
I u njemu oci neke, nebo necije,
Neko lice, ne znam kakvo, mozda decije,
Staru pesmu, stare zvezde, neki stari dan.
Ja sad jedva mogu znati da imadoh san.
Ne secam se niceg vise, ni ociju tih:
Kao da je san mi ceo bio od pene,
Il’ te oci da su moja dusa van mene,
Ni arije, ni sveg drugog, sto ja nocas snih;
Ne secam se niceg vise, ni ociju tih.
Ali slutim, a slutiti jos znam.
Ja sad slutim za te oci, da su bas one,
Sto me cudno po zivotu vode i gone:
U snu dodju, da me vide, sta li radim sam.
Ali slutim, a slutiti jos jedino znam.
Da me vide dodju oci, i ja vidim tad
I te oci, i tu ljubav, i taj put srece;
Njene oci, njeno lice, njeno prolece
U snu vidim, ali ne znam, sto ne vidim sad.
Da me vide, dodju oci, i ja vidim tad.
Njenu glavu s krunom kose i u kosi cvet,
I njen pogled sto me gleda kao iz cveca,
Sto me gleda, sto mi kaze, da me oseca,
Sto mi brizno pruza odmor i neznosti svet,
Njenu glavu s krunom kose i u kosi cvet.
Ja sad nemam svoju dragu, i njen ne znam glas;
Ne znam mesto na kom zivi ili pociva;
Ne znam zasto nju i san mi java pokriva;
Mozda spava, i grob tuzno neguje joj stas.
Ja sad nemam svoju dragu, i njen ne znam glas.
Mozda spava sa ocima izvan svakog zla,
Izvan stvari, iluzija, izvan zivota,
I s njom spava, nevidjena, njena lepota;
Mozda zivi i doci ce posle ovog sna.
Mozda spava sa ocima izvan svakog zla.
[Reply]
Ítaca, también. Si hay algún otro, es de Rubén.
[Reply]
“Red mij niet” (Dutch: Don’t save me) - translation follows
Leg een steen onder je kussen
Brand voor mijn part een kaars
Slacht een lam
Maar red mij niet
Zet een rare muts op
Duw briefjes in een muur
Voorspel de toekomst
Maar red mij niet
Laat je baard staan
Ach man, laat je baard staan
Red mij niet
Trek een jurk aan
Ach man, trek een mooie lange jurk aan
Maar red mij niet
Restaureer je kerk
Stuur je kinderen ten oorlog
Lees handen tot je blind bent
Maar red mij niet
Slik vitamienen tegen kanker
Was je handen in vuur
Versier je voorhoofd met een stip
Maar red mij niet
Jouw hemel
is voor mij de hel
Een hemel met jou
Is de hel voor mij
Richt je billen naar het westen
Zeg dagenlang hetzelfde woord
Laat je bevrijden door een UFO
Maar red mij niet
Loop met fakkels door de straten
Zeg dat het lukt als je maar wil
Ga op je knieën tot ze blauw zien
Maar red mij niet
Laat mij in mijn zeven sloten
Laat mij de draad volslagen kwijt
Aan gezelligheid ten onder
Richting eindeloze tijd
Uit volle borst op weg naar nergens
Zonder reden zonder doel
Met m’n zeden en m’n zonden
En mijn angstig voorgevoel
Laat mij mijn kont tegen de krib
Laat mij dit goddeloze lied
Hef jij je handen maar ten hemel
Maar red mij niet
(c) Maarten van Roozendaal
This is a song by Maarten van Roosendaal. The youtube link follows after the translation.
For the ones who can’t read Dutch, I gave it a shot to translate the lyrics. But some sayings can’t be translated. Or I don’t know the saying in English.
“Laat mij in mijn zeven sloten” means litterally “Leave me in my seven ditches”, doing too much at the same time (chaotic).
In Dutch “Ach man laat je baard staan.” gets a double meaning. It litterally means Oh man grow a beard. But in Dutch “Achman, or Ahman (pronounced with a harsh gggg), sounds like an Arabic name also.
“Don’t save me”
Put a stone under your pillow
Burn a candle, whatever
Slaughter a lamb
But don’t save me.
Put on a funny hat
Put letters in a wall
Predict the future
But don’t save me.
Grow a beard
Oh man, grow a beard
But don’t save me.
Wear a dress
Oh man, wear a nice long dress
But don’t save me.
Restore your church
Send your children to war
Read hands until you’re blind
But don’t save me.
Swallow vitamins against cancer
Wash your hands in fire
Decorate your forehead with a dot
But don’t save me.
Your heaven
Is the hell for me
A heaven with you
Is like hell for me.
Direct your ass to the west
Say the same word day by day
Get yourself liberated by a UFO
But don’t save me.
Walk with torches through the streets
Say it works if only you want it
Get on your knees until they’re blue
But don’t save me
Let me kept too busy with no sense at all
Let me totally lose my way
Losing my soul having fun
On my way to eternity
Singing loudly on my way to nowhere
Without reason, without goal
With my morality and my sins
And with my feelings of anxiety
Leave me in my stubbornness
Leave me this wicked song
Yes, put your hands up high to heaven,
But don’t save me
Don’t save me
Don’t save me!
Here is the song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6TgZJCh8l9Y
I love it when the base comes in. Gives me the goosepocks.
I hope you love it,
Erik
[Reply]
Gaze
Naked eyes ….
reach the iris of my heart ….
On the strings of my soul ….
sings the rhythm ….
the essence of love…….
.. ..
Naked eyes ….
reach the iris of my heart ….
in the song of the moment ….
is the light ….
in the birth of the day… ….
.. ..
Naked eyes ….
in the mystery of the night ….
is the triangle of our love ….
in the unity of the gaze…….
.. ..
Love
Hildegarde
xxx
[Reply]
The Awakening
I woke up from my mummified sleep and mistook you for the opium one takes in consolation to forget unhappy events. As days went by I realized that the hallucinations I was experiencing were not the reality I wanted to face and be remembered by. I was the seashore sand burnt by years of sun’s overwhelming heat. However, through some miracle the tides had brought onto my path a mysterious shell which i was eager to explore and share my deepest emotions. To my dismay I foresee a storm coming that would take back to nature the fantasy that lasted like a mist. we belong to two different species of existence. Though time is our enemy I am confident a day would come that you would appreciate why destiny chose to put us aside the other. For now I fear I should retrieve to my old sanctuary to have peace with my own soul. Arrivederci my timeless fog.
[Reply]
Dear Paulo,
One more for good measure. I love this poem.
Peace and love,
Diane :)
i carry your heart with me
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
ee cummings
[Reply]
Indiscreet
In my world of fantasy…
Flawless existence,
Supernaturality
I play the flute
to hear the sounds of your love
painting my mind the picture of a lovely dream…
Why did they bring me here
Why did they abuse me,
They took my innocence and
Did not let me see…
We walk on sacred ground
Climb on top of the mount,
The essence of life fires me up inside
And keeps me alive…
I shut out reality
And live as I please.
Don’t tell me where to go,
Don’t tell me what to do,
Don’t shove your laws down my throat
Don’t show me your insanity…
Your policies were not meant for me.
You came not knowing who you were,
Followed the footsteps imprinted for you
Created an illusion of reality.
Set up your restrictions,
And placed your constrictions,
And thought…. That was your happiness.
The days and hours
Our calendar unreal
The shame and respect
And the fear you bring
The green paper
And the 9-5 deal…
Trying to keep us real?
Watching our every need,
Portraying it on TV
Reassuring the darkness fear
Hypnotized
Mesmerized
Now its time to have a brain wash.
CSG 4/95
[Reply]
here is one of my favourite poems:
Someone who use to have someone
By Miriam Waddington
There used to be someone
To whom I could say do you
Love me and be sure that the
Answer would always be yes;
There used to be someone to
Whom I could telephone and
Be sure when the operator
Said do you accept the charges
The answer would always be yes;
But now there is no one to ask
No one to telephone from the
Strangeness of cities in the
Lateness of nightness now there
Is no one always now no one
No someone no never at all.
Can you imagine what it is
Like to live in a world where
There is no one now always no
No one and never some some-
One to ask to you love me and
Be sure that the answer would
Always be yes? I live in a world
Where only the billboards are
Always they’re twenty feet tall
And the circle the city they
Coax and caress me they heat
Me and cool me they promise and
Plead me with colour and comfort:
You get to sleep with me
Tonight (the me being ovaltine)
But who want s to get to sleep
With a cup of ovaltine what
Kind of sleep is that for some-
One who used to have someone
To ask do you love me and
Be sure that the answer
Would always be yes?
[Reply]
sofro de solidão intelectual… e de outras que não vem ao caso, também!
você quer ser meu amigo?
[Reply]
Я выйду на улицу одна
И быстрым шагом уйду в никуда.
В одном кармане пачка сигарет,
В другом как будто ничего и нет.
Вокруг одна темнота,
А внутри сплошная пустота.
Я иду и Бога молю об одном:
Чтобы он никогда не покинул мой дом.
Но больше всего я хочу
Уйти в эту бескрайнюю пустоту.
Раствориться, забыться, исчезнуть
Бежать под дождем - утонуть в нем.
Промокнуть до нитки - упасть
На небо глянуть и отдать
Всю душу, чувства, мысли, тело
Все это просто бросить в небо.
Расправить крылья - улететь
Еще раз на все посмотреть
Взмыть в небо и умереть…
(Написано мной в 2004 году)
- Отдать тебе любовь?
- Отдай.
- Она в грязи.
- Отдай в грязи.
- Я погадать хочу.
- Гадай.
- Еще хочу спросить.
- Спроси.
- Допустим, постучусь.
- Впущу.
- Допустим, позову.
- Приду.
- А если там беда?
- В беду.
- А если обману?
- Прощу.
- “Спой!” - прикажу тебе.
- Спою.
- Запри для друга дверь.
- Запру.
- Скажу тебе: убей!
- Убью.
- Скажу тебе: умри!
- Умру.
- А если захлебнусь?
- Спасу.
- А если будет боль?
- Стерплю.
- А если вдруг стена?
- Снесу.
- А если узел?
- Разрублю.
- А если 100 узлов?
- И 100.
- Любовь тебе отдать?
- Любовь.
- Не будет этого!
- За что?!
- За то, что не люблю рабов.
Автор: Роберт Рождественский
[Reply]
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
By Marianne Williamson from A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles
[Reply]
Só agora li o poema que escolheste, de Kaváfis. Também é um dos meus preferidos (por cause dele o nome do meu blog). Eu sinto, quando o leio, toda a imensa vontade de voltar para “casa”.
Outro que fala brilhantemente sobre Ítaca é Manuel Alegre:
Não vale a pena suportar tanto castigo.
Procuras Ítaca. Mas só há esse procurar.
Onde quer que te encontres está contigo
dentro de ti em casa na distância
onde quer que procures há outro mar
Ítaca é tua própria errância.
É isso! Muito obrigada, Sr. Paulo Coelho.
[Reply]