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- Poetic Path (Rruga Poetike) (http://www.forumihorizont.com/forumdisplay.php3?forumid=191)
-- Sergei Yesenin (http://www.forumihorizont.com/showthread.php3?threadid=17887)

Sergei Yesenin

I do believe in happiness

I do believe in happiness!
The sun has not yet faded. Rays
Of sunrise like a book of prayers
Predict the happy news. Oh yes!
I do believe in happiness!

I love the wild impetuous streams,
The shine of stars upon the water.
The blessed dejection, crying quarter,
The blessing people and extremes
Of roaring wild impetuous streams.

Scarlet light of Sunset

Scarlet light of sunset shows up on the lake.
Grouses are crying in the wood, awake.

Hidden in hollow, cries an oriole.
I don"t feel like crying, brightness in my soul.

You"ll come out to meet me later in the day,
We"ll sit down there under stack of hay.

I will kiss and squeeze you, like an ardent boy!
One can"t blame a man for being drunk with joy.

You will chuck your kerchief as I hold you tight,
I will keep you, tipsy, in the bush all night.

Let the birds keep crying as we neck and bask.
There"s a happy yearning in the purple dusk.

Don't you Force a smile

Don't you force a smile, girl, tensely, like you do,
The one I"m in love with isn't really you.

I suppose you know it, and you know it well,
I"m not here to see you but another girl.

I was passing by, and, well, I didn't care, -
I saw you and wanted just to stop and stare.

My life

It appears, my life is fated to torment;
My way is dammed up by grief and distress.
My life has been severed from fun and enjoyment,
Vexation and wounds are afflicting my chest.

It seems I"m fated to suffer from pain.
All I have in this life are bad luck and misfortune.
I have suffered enough in this life, and again
Both my body and soul have been put to the torture.

The expanse, vast and hazy, promises joy,
Sighs and tears, however, are the real solutions.
A storm will break out, the thunder - oh boy! -
Will ruin the magical luscious illusions.

Now I know life"s deception, and nevertheless
I don"t want to complain of bad luck and misfortune.
So my soul doesn"t suffer from grief and distress,
No one ever can help to relieve me from torture.

WHAT IS GONE CANNOT BE RETRIEVED

Lovely night I will never retrieve it,
And I won't see my sweet precious love.
And the nightingale's song, I won't hear it,
Happy song that it sang in the grove!

That sweet night is now gone irrevocably
You can't tell it: please come back and wait.
Autumn weather has now set in locally,
With perpetual rains, damp and wet.

Fast asleep in the grave is my sweetheart
Keeping love, as before, in her heart.
And however it tries, autumn blizzard
Cannot wake her from sleep, flesh and blood.

So the nightingale's singing has ended,
As the song-bird has taken to flight,

And I can't hear the song now, so splendid,
Which it sang on that sweet chilly night.

Gone and lost are the joyous emotions
That I felt in those days and conceived.
All I have now is chill in my conscience.
What is gone can't be ever retrieved.

Goodbye, my friend, goodbye

Goodbye, my friend, goodbye
My love, you are in my heart.
It was preordained we should part
And be reunited by and by.
Goodbye: no handshake to endure.
Let's have no sadness — furrowed brow.
There's nothing new in dying now
Though living is no newer.

Nuk e di po ne anglisht Esenini se si me duket. Perkthimet jane te mrekullueshme, por, mresa estetike qe jep vargezimi metrik (ose me rrokje) nuk besoj se arrihet ne keto lloj poezish, ne anglisht.
Por vertet jane perkthime te mrekullueshme dhe jo si ato te Robert Elise qe e ka masakruar Lasgushin per tmerr

Citim:

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Po citoj ato që tha cedrus
Nuk e di po ne anglisht Esenini se si me duket. Perkthimet jane te mrekullueshme, por, mresa estetike qe jep vargezimi metrik (ose me rrokje) nuk besoj se arrihet ne keto lloj poezish, ne anglisht.
Por vertet jane perkthime te mrekullueshme dhe jo si ato te Robert Elise qe e ka masakruar Lasgushin per tmerr

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Vec kesaj, motra, perkthimin e Eseninit nga Bllaci e kane cilesuar me te mirin. Bllaci ka marre nje vleresim maksimal ne nje Nderkombetare" pikerisht per kete gje.

Po, midis 100 vendeve Bllaci doli ne vend te pare, sepse ka ruajtur, izometriken, ritmin dhe kuptimin fjale per fjale.

Citim:

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Po citoj ato që tha AngelDevil



Miku im i shtrenjte, lamtumire!
Ty ketu ne shpirt te kam ta dish!
Fati po na ndan sot pa meshire
po diku do te shihemi serish.

Lamtumire, mik, pa fjale e lote!
Vetullat t'i ngrysesh s'ke perse:

Vdekja s'eshte e re ne kete bote
As te rrosh nuk eshte gje e re!

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