Sunday, August 14, 2011

31-DAY WRITING CHALLENGE #003 - 005 - SALIN

Last na ho ito para sa araw na ito. At ito na ang simula ng "pandaraya," ie translation. Unang balak e bukas na ito ipost pero para ipressure ang sariling gumawa ng bago bukas, edi ipopost ko na ngayon ang Combaudelaire na ito 3 x 3 x 3, i.e. tatlong ulit isinalin at tatlong.. well, salin. Dami pang satsat, heto na ho:

***

Les Plaintes d'un Icare by Charles Baudelaire

Les amants des prostituées
Sont heureux, dispos et repus;
Quant à moi, mes bras sont rompus
Pour avoir étreint des nuées.

C'est grâce aux astres nonpareils,
Qui tout au fond du ciel flamboient,
Que mes yeux consumés ne voient
Que des souvenirs de soleils.

En vain j'ai voulu de l'espace
Trouver la fin et le milieu;
Sous je ne sais quel oeil de feu
Je sens mon aile qui se casse;

Et brûlé par l'amour du beau,
Je n'aurai pas l'honneur sublime
De donner mon nom à l'abîme
Qui me servira de tombeau.

The Lamentations of an Icarus
Translated by Geoffrey Wagner,
Selected Poems of Charles Baudelaire (NY: Grove Press, 1974)

The lovers of prostitutes are
Happy, cheerful, well-fed;
As for me, my arms are broken
Through having hugged the clouds.

It is thanks to the incomparable stars,
Blazing in the depths of the sky,
That my devoured eyes see only
The memories of suns.

In vain I wished to find
The center and the end of space;
I know not under what fiery eye
I feel my wings breaking;

And burnt up by love of beauty,
I shall not have the splendid honor
Of giving my name to the abyss
Which will serve as my grave.

Hikbi ng Isang Icarus
Salin ni Tilde Acuña

Maligaya, malugod, liglig
ang kabit ng puta;
Ngunit kapos ang aking bisig
nang yumapos sa alapaap.

Salamat sa mga bituing walang kaparis
na nagliliyab sa lalim ng langit,
at alaala na lamang ng mga araw
ang nasisilip ng pinagal kong paningin.

Bigo kong hinagilap
ang puno't dulo ng kalawakan;
Walang malay kung anong panlilisik
ang pumupunit sa aking mga pakpak.

Kahit tinupok ng pagsinta sa bighani,
hindi mapapasaakin ang sukdulang dangal
ng pag-gawad ng aking pangalan sa bangin
na magsisilbing aking libingan.

***

La Lune offensée by Charles Baudelaire

Ô Lune qu'adoraient discrétement nos pères,
Du haut des pays bleus où, radieux sérail,
Les astres vont te suivre en pimpant attirail,
Ma vieille Cynthia, lampe de nos repaires,

Vois-tu les amoureux sur leurs grabats prospères,
De leur bouche en dormant montrer le frais émail?
Le poète buter du front sur son travail?
Ou sous les gazons secs s'accoupler les vipères?

Sous ton domino jaune, et d'un pied clandestin,
Vas-tu, comme jadis, du soir jusqu'au matin,
Baiser d'Endymion les grâces surannées?

— «Je vois ta mère, enfant de ce siècle appauvri,
Qui vers son miroir penche un lourd amas d'années,
Et plâtre artistement le sein qui t'a nourri!»

The Offended Moon
Translated by William Aggeler,
The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

O Moon whom our ancestors discreetly adored,
Radiant seraglio! from the blue countries' height
To which the stars follow you in dashing attire,
My ancient Cynthia, lamp of our haunts,

Do you see the lovers on their prosperous pallets,
Showing as they sleep, the cool enamel of their mouths?
The poet beating his forehead over his work?
Or the vipers coupling under the withered grass?

Under your yellow domino, with quiet step,
Do you go as in days of old from morn till night
To kiss the faded charms of Endymion?

— "I see your mother, child of this impoverished age,
Bending toward her mirror a heavy weight of years,
Skillfully disguising the breast that nourished you!"

Ang Hinamak na Buwan
Salin ni Tilde Acuña

O Buwan, na siyang mapitagang iniibig ng aming mga ninuno,
Nakasisilaw na harem mula sa tayog ng mga lalawigang bughaw
Na siyang tinutunton ng mga bituing magagara ang bihis,
Sinauna kong Cynthia, tanglaw ng aming purok,

Nakikita mo ba ang mga magsing-irog sa kanilang mapalad na papag,
Pinasisilip sa pagkagupiling, ang malamig na baluti ng kanilang mga ngipin?
Ang makatang hinahataw ang noo hanggang matapos ang kaniyang obra?
Ang mga nagtatalik na ulupong sa tabing ng mga tuyong talahib?

Sa ilalim ng almarilyo mong kapoteng tahimik kung yumabag,
Nagpapatuloy ka pa ba, tulad dati, mula umaga hanggang gabi
Sa paghalik sa lumipas na alindog ni Endymion?

— "Nakikita ko ang iyong ina, paslit nitong nagdarahop na panahon,
Matimbang ang mga taong ibinabaling niya patungo sa kanyang salamin,
Mahusay niyang kinukubli ang dibdib na nagkalinga sa iyo!"

***

Le Léthé by Charles Baudelaire

Viens sur mon coeur, âme cruelle et sourde,
Tigre adoré, monstre aux airs indolents;
Je veux longtemps plonger mes doigts tremblants
Dans l'épaisseur de ta crinière lourde;

Dans tes jupons remplis de ton parfum
Ensevelir ma tête endolorie,
Et respirer, comme une fleur flétrie,
Le doux relent de mon amour défunt.

Je veux dormir! dormir plutôt que vivre!
Dans un sommeil aussi doux que la mort,
J'étalerai mes baisers sans remords
Sur ton beau corps poli comme le cuivre.

Pour engloutir mes sanglots apaisés
Rien ne me vaut l'abîme de ta couche;
L'oubli puissant habite sur ta bouche,
Et le Léthé coule dans tes baisers.

À mon destin, désormais mon délice,
J'obéirai comme un prédestiné;
Martyr docile, innocent condamné,
Dont la ferveur attise le supplice,

Je sucerai, pour noyer ma rancoeur,
Le népenthès et la bonne ciguë
Aux bouts charmants de cette gorge aiguë
Qui n'a jamais emprisonné de coeur.

Lethe

Translated by Geoffrey Wagner,
Selected Poems of Charles Baudelaire (NY: Grove Press, 1974)

Come on my heart, cruel and insensible soul,
My darling tiger, beast with indolent airs;
I want to plunge for hours my trembling fingers
In your thick and heavy mane;

In your petticoats filled with your perfume
To bury my aching head,
And breathe, like a faded flower,
The sweet taste of my dead love.

I want to sleep, to sleep and not to live,
In a sleep as soft as death,
I shall cover with remorseless kisses
Your body beautifully polished as copper.

To swallow my appeased sobbing
I need only the abyss of your bed;
A powerful oblivion lives on your lips,
And all Lethe flows in your kisses.

I shall obey, as though predestined,
My destiny, that is now my delight;
Submissive martyr, innocent damned one,
My ardor inflames my torture,

And I shall suck, to drown my bitterness
The nepenthe and the good hemlock,
On the lovely tips of those jutting breasts
Which have never imprisoned love.

Lethe
Salin ni Tilde Acuña

Pumarito ka sa aking kasingkasing, halang na kaluluwa,
Mutya kong musang, hayup na aligaga sa pagkakalutang;
Nais malulong ng mga nangangatog kong daliri
sa makapal at umaapaw mong buhok.

At sa kamison mong puno ng iyong halimuyak,
ibuburol ko ang kumikirot na isip
at sisinghap tulad ng kumupas na bulaklak,
ang matamis na lasap ng sumalangit na pag-ibig.

Nais kong magpahinga, magpahinga at hindi ang huminga,
sa idlip na kasinlambot ng pagkalagot ng hininga,
Mga halik na walang damdamin ang aking isasaplot
Sa katawan mong tanso sa kintab at kinis.

Upang malulon ang humupa kong pagtangis,
Ang nais ko lamang ay ang bangin ng iyong banig;
Isang mabisang paglimot ang nananatili sa iyong mga labi,
At tumitigis sa iyong mga halik ang tanan ni Lethe.

Tatalima ako, na tila itinakda,
Ang kapalaran ko, na siyang aking ikasisiya;
Masunuring martir, yaong inosenteng isinumpa,
Ang sigla ko ang nagpapasiklab sa aking paghihirap,

Upang lunurin ang hinanakit, aking sisimutin
Ang nepenthe at ang kamandag ng mahusay na kaliskis-ahas,
Mula sa marilag na rurok ng nakausling dibdib
Na kailanma'y hindi nagbilanggo ng pag-ibig.

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Some other streets within the City as of 11.11.11.11.11

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