Марианна С. - полученные рецензии

I look forward to see your new poems and wish you inspiration.
As for the poems - I didn't dare to print them next to my attempts to translate, cause I just adore their author.

Марианна С.   06.12.2003 00:24   Заявить о нарушении

Я предвкушаю чтение всех ваших стихов,
надеюсь смогу многому у вас научиться.
С благодарностью за рецензию,

Марианна С.   06.12.2003 00:24   Заявить о нарушении

PS
I think, I guessed. Great translations! Keep it up.

Сергей Петунин   04.12.2003 01:29   Заявить о нарушении

Thank you for not revealing the name.
And for the reply too.
Good luck,

Марианна С.   06.12.2003 00:25   Заявить о нарушении

The nature of love is that it appears when it is forbidden or impossible.
If in this way, than the worst is the most easyly loved person, did you mean that?

Марианна С.   06.12.2003 00:54   Заявить о нарушении

Well, that's a very interesting interpretation!
But what I actually meant was: if a person is the worst of all, then he's a very interesting person indeed, as some kind of a record maker.:)
Which automatically improves him in everyone's mind!
Such a silly paradox...:)

Сергей Петунин   06.12.2003 01:33   Заявить о нарушении

The white moth to the closing bine,
The bee to the opened clover,
And the gipsy blood to the gipsy blood
Ever the wide world over.

Ever the wide world over, lass,
Ever the trail held true,
Over the world and under the world,
And back at the last to you.

Out of the dark of the gorgio camp,
Out of the grime and the grey
(Morning waits at the end of the world),
Gipsy, come away!

The wild boar to the sun-dried swamp,
The red crane to her reed,
And the Romany lass to the Romany lad,
By the tie of a roving breed.

The pied snake to the rifted rock,
The buck to the stony plain,
And the Romany lass to the Romany lad,
And both to the road again.

Both to the road again, again!
Out on a clean sea-track --
Follow the cross of the gipsy trail
Over the world and back!

Follow the Romany patrin
North where the blue bergs sail,
And the bows are grey with the frozen spray,
And the masts are shod with mail.

Follow the Romany patrin
Sheer to the Austral Light,
Where the besom of God is the wild South wind,
Sweeping the sea-floors white.

Follow the Romany patrin
West to the sinking sun,
Till the junk-sails lift through the houseless drift,
And the east and west are one.

Follow the Romany patrin
East where the silence broods
By a purple wave on an opal beach
In the hush of the Mahim woods.

"The wild hawk to the wind-swept sky,
The deer to the wholesome wold,
And the heart of a man to the heart of a maid,
As it was in the days of old."

The heart of a man to the heart of a maid --
Light of my tents, be fleet.
Morning waits at the end of the world,
And the world is all at our feet!

(Rudyard Kipling: "The Gipsy Trail")

*patrin - Gipsy cant: an indication which gipsies leave of the way they have travelled, by throwing down handfuls of grass or leaves pointing in the direction taken.

In your poem, one senses an affinity with the spirit of Kipling's, although his style is reminiscent of 19th-century romanticism, while yours is contemporary, a space-age lyrical voice. For that reason, I prefer yours. I imagine Kipling would have liked it too. He would perhaps have seen in it echoes of his own aspirations to an untrammelled life, emancipated from the strictures of his time and vernacular.

Jena Woodhouse   13.12.2003 15:02   Заявить о нарушении

Jena,
you can trick anybody else but not me!

This is a translation (whose?) of the gipsy song:

Shaggy bumblebee to the fragrant hop
And the grey heron in the rushes
In the night gipsy girl after the beloved
"By the tie of a roving breed."

I've been listening this song these days, and coincidence seems to be miraculous.

Марианна С.   14.12.2003 17:21   Заявить о нарушении

http://www.ice.ru/~slobin/misc/kipling.html

Марианна С.   14.12.2003 17:34   Заявить о нарушении

Спасибо за ссылки. Я тоже люблю эту песню.:)

Jena Woodhouse   14.12.2003 22:56   Заявить о нарушении