Poems from Esperanto, Latin and Russian

Poems Found in Translation: “Nikolajs ĶurzÄ“ns: Autumn Elegy (From Esperanto)” plus 2 more Nikolajs ĶurzÄ“ns: Autumn Elegy (From Esperanto) John Owen: About Himself (From Latin) Marina Tsvetaeva: The Horn of Roland (From Russian) Nikolajs ĶurzÄ“ns: Autumn Elegy (From Esperanto) Posted: 29 Oct 2016 04:24 PM PDT Autumn Elegy Nikolajs ĶurzÄ“ns Translated by A.Z. Foreman It rained all yesterday, today it's raining So too tomorrow drops will slip and strew Wearily as the weary minutes do Of this my life — aimless and dull and draining. Yes each day robs and washes me of something! Yes each night carries something off from me! No, of the past I've but a memory! No, for the future I am left with nothing! No more the lightning blades that slice the sky, No more the heavens shuddering with thunder, Just phthisic wind that weeps through every corner And rain and rain and rain — as days drudge by. And each day robs and washes me of something And each night carries something off from me And of the past I have but memory, And for the future I am left with nothing. The Original: AÅ­tuna Elegio HieraÅ­ pluvis, kaj hodiaÅ­ pluvas kaj morgaÅ­ same, lace glitos gutoj; kaj same, lace iros la minutoj de mia viv', sencela kaj enua. Ja ĉiu tag' forlavas rabe ion! ja ĉiu nokto portas ion for! ja de l' pasinto restas nur memor'! ja por l' estonto havas mi nenion! Ne fendas plu ĉielon fulma glavo, ne tremas tondre plu la firmamento. Ĉe la anguloj ploras ftiza vento, kaj pluvas, pluvas, pluvas – tag' post tago. Kaj ĉiu tag' forlavas rabe ion, kaj ĉiu nokto portas ion for; kaj de l' pasinto restas nur memor' kaj por l'estonto – havas mi nenion... John Owen: About Himself (From Latin) Posted: 29 Oct 2016 03:38 PM PDT About Himself By John Owen Translated by A.Z. Foreman Some say that I am no true poet, and they tell The truth. Because the truth is what I tell. The Original: DÄ“ SÄ“ipsō Sunt quÄ«dam, quÄ« mÄ“ dÄ«cunt nōn esse poÄ“tam, Et vÄ“rum dÄ«cunt. CÅ«r? Quia vÄ“ra loquor. Marina Tsvetaeva: The Horn of Roland (From Russian) Posted: 29 Oct 2016 08:53 AM PDT I am not happy with this version. But here goes. The Horn of Roland By Marina Tsvetaeva Translated by A.Z. Foreman So as a sorry jester telling of the wicked weight Of his hump, do I tell the tale of this my orphaned state. Behind a prince, his kin. Behind a seraph, seraphim. Behind each one there are thousand others just like him, To reassure him, when he staggers, with a living wall Of thousands to fall back on, to be backup should he fall! The soldier's proud of his brigade; the demon, of hell's rungs.   Behind the thief come thugs. Behind the jester? Just that hump.  So, tired of holding on to consciousness of being quite Alone, and singled out for no fate other than to fight  Under the boo and hiss of philistines, and fools' catcalls, As one for all — one among all — alone against them all I stand to blow the horn, and — petrified from flight — I send One blaring call through empty distance hoping for a friend  And this fire in the breast is warrant that I'm not alone But that some Charlemagne shall hear your call and answer, Horn! -March 1921 The Original: Роландов Рог Марина Цветаева Как бедный шут о злом своем уродстве, Я повествую о своем сиротстве: За князем — род, за серафимом — сонм, За каждым — тысячи таких, как он,— Чтоб, пошатнувшись,— на живую стену Упал — и знал, что тысячи на смену! Солдат — полком, бес — легионом горд, За вором — сброд, а за шутом — все горб. Так, наконец, усталая держаться Сознаньем: перст и назначеньем: драться,— Под свист глупца и мещанина смех,— Одна за всех — из всех — противу всех, Стою и шлю, закаменев от взлету, Сей громкий зов в небесные пустоты. И сей пожар в груди — тому залог, Что некий Карл тебя услышит, Рог!