Poezija na stranim jezicima
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  1. #1

    Poezija na stranim jezicima

    Poezija na stranim jezicima (engleskom, ruskom, francuskom, kineskom, svahiliju...) odsada se može postovati isključivo na ovoj temi. Pesme mogu, a i ne moraju imati prevod. Sve pesme na stranom jeziku koje budu postovane na drugim temama na podforumu Poezija, biće premeštane ovde.


    Ova malecka na pocetku mi maznula pesmu. :mig: Sad moram da joj vratim.

    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)

    E E Cummings
    Poruku je izmenio Bazarov, 08.12.2008 u 23:16 Razlog: nabudeno uvodom da bi bilo uvodni post :)
    Gaa wiin daa-aangoshkigaazo ahaw enaabiyaan gaa-inaabid


  2. #2

    Odgovor: poklonite pesmu..

    When all the time you're feeling blue
    you can feel better starting with a shoe

    Draw out the laces and undo the bow
    slide out of them and stretch your toe

    As you rip off your socks smile! you're free!
    jump around, run; feel the lawn and see

    Nothing is better than a lay in the grass
    to watch the clouds as they slowly pass

    So you see a sad person just smile and say
    have you taken off your shoes today?

    Nepoznat autor

    Poruku je izmenio SQUAW, 01.05.2007 u 06:08
    Gaa wiin daa-aangoshkigaazo ahaw enaabiyaan gaa-inaabid


  3. #3

    Odgovor: Pablo Neruda

    YO TE SOŃ UNA TARDE

    Mujer, hecha de todas mis ficciones reunidas
    has vibrado en mis nervios como una realeza
    llorando en los senderos de la ilusin perdida
    siempre he sentido el roce de tu ignota belleza.

    Marchitando mis sueńos y mis buenas quimeras
    te he forjado a pedazos celestes y carnales
    como un resurgimiento, como una primavera
    en la selva de tantos estpidos ideales.

    He sońado tu carne divina y perfumada
    en medio de un morboso torturar de mi ser,
    y aunque eres imprecisa, s como eres, amada,
    ficcin hecha realeza en carne de mujer.

    Yo te miro en los ojos de todas las mujeres,
    te miro pero nunca te he podido encontrar
    y hay en el desencanto el encanto de que eres,
    o que sers ms bella que una mujer vulgar...

    Te sentirn mis sueńos eternamente ma
    brotando de la bruma de todas mis tristezas
    como germinadora de raras alegras
    que avivarn la llama de tu ignota belleza.

    EL AMOR

    XI

    El firme amor, me diste con tus dones.
    Vino a m la ternura que esperaba
    y me acompańa la que lleva el beso
    ms profundo a mi boca.

    No pudieron
    apartarla de m las tempestades
    ni las distancias agregaron tierra
    al espacio de amor que conquistamos.

    Cuando antes del incendio, entre las mieses
    de Espańa apareci tu vestidura,
    yo fui doble nacin, luz duplicada,
    y la amargura resbal en tu rostro
    hasta caer sobre piedras perdidas.

    De un gran dolor, de arpones erizados
    desemboqu en tus aguas, amor mo,
    como un caballo que galopa en medio
    de la ira y la muerte, y lo recibe
    de pronto una manzana matutina,
    una cascada de temblor silvestre.

    Desde entonces, amor, te conocieron
    los pramos que hicieron mi conducta,
    el ocano oscuro que me sigue
    y los castańos del Otońo inmenso.

    żQuin no te vio, amorosa, dulce ma,
    en la lucha, a mi lado, como una
    aparicin, con todas las seńales
    de la estrella? żQuin, si anduvo
    entre las multitudes a buscarme,
    porque soy grano del granero humano,
    no te encontr, apretada a mis races,
    elevada en el canto de mi sangre?

    No s, mi amor, si tendr tiempo y sitio
    de escribir otra vez tu sombra fina
    extendida en mis pginas, esposa:
    son duros estos das y radiantes,
    y recogemos de ellos la dulzura
    amasada con prpados y espinas.

    Ya no s recordar cuando comienzas:
    estabas antes del amor,
    venas con todas las esencias del destino,
    y antes de ti, la soledad fue tuya,
    fue tal vez tu dormida cabellera.

    Hoy, copa de mi amor, te nombro apenas,
    ttulo de mis das, adorada,
    y en el espacio ocupas como el da
    toda la luz que tiene el universo.

  4. #4

    Odgovor: Lord Byron

    She walks in beauty, like the night


    She walks in beauty, like the night
    Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
    And all that's best of dark and bright
    Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
    Thus mellowed to that tender light
    Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

    One shade the more, one ray the less,
    Had half impaired the nameless grace
    Which waves in every raven tress,
    Or softly lightens o'er her face;
    Where thoughts serenely sweet express
    How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

    And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
    So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
    The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
    But tell of days in goodness spent,
    A mind at peace with all below,
    A heart whose love is innocent!

    Lord George Gordon Byron
    Poruku je izmenio Cecara, 24.04.2009 u 20:40 Razlog: autor

  5. #5

    Odgovor: poklonite pesmu..

    I Am He



    I am he
    that cares too much
    and allows this world to penetrate.
    I am the man
    that loves too deeply,
    while others merely perpetrate.
    Do you see this man
    or the boy inside,
    with emotions to great
    and plentiful to hide?
    They've shorn my hair
    and crushed my pride.
    Taken my land
    and my wife from my side.
    A man of honor,
    whose spirit remains free
    with love to give,
    but finding none that need.
    So take the hand
    of a distant Crow child
    and with the Spirit of my fathers,
    the wolf will run wild.

    Robert Ellis
    Gaa wiin daa-aangoshkigaazo ahaw enaabiyaan gaa-inaabid


  6. #6

    Odgovor: Šarl Bodler

    Beauty


    I am as lovely as a dream in stone;
    My breast on which each finds his death in turn
    Inspires the poet with a love as lone
    As everlasting clay, and as taciturn.
    Swan-white of heart, as sphinx no mortal knows,
    My throne is in the heaven's azure deep;
    I hate all movement that disturbs my pose;
    I smile not ever, neither do I weep.

    Before my monumental attitudes,
    Taken from the proudest plastic arts,
    My poets pray in austere studious moods,

    For I, to fold enchantment round their hearts,
    Have pools of light where beauty flames and dies,
    The placid mirrors of my luminous eyes.

    Charles Baudelaire
    Poruku je izmenio Cecara, 24.04.2009 u 20:43 Razlog: autor

    Ubica mekog srca.

  7. #7

    Odgovor: William Shakespeare

    Ja ga vise volim u originalnoj verziji


    Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
    Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
    Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
    And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
    Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
    And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
    And every fair from fair sometime declines,
    By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
    But thy eternal summer shall not fade
    Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
    Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
    When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
    So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
    So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.


    William Shakespeare
    Poruku je izmenio Cecara, 19.02.2009 u 19:24 Razlog: autor
    Gather ye rosebuds while ye may...

  8. #8

    Odgovor: William Shakespeare

    Sigh no more ladies, sigh no more,
    Men were deceivers ever,
    One foot in sea and one on shore,
    To one thing constant never.

    Then sigh not so, but let them go,
    And be you blithe and bonny,
    Converting all your sounds of woe
    Into hey nonny, nonny, nonny.

    Sing no more ditties, sing no more
    Of dumps so dull and heavy,
    The fraud of men was ever so,
    Since summer first was leafy.

    Then sigh not so, but let them go,
    And be you blithe and bonny,
    Converting all your sounds of woe
    Into hey nonny, nonny, nonny.

    Then sigh not so, but let them go,
    And be you blithe and bonny,
    Converting all your sounds of woe
    Into hey nonny, nonny, nonny.




    (from "Much Ado about Nothing" by William Shakespeare)
    Poruku je izmenio Cecara, 19.02.2009 u 19:27 Razlog: autor
    Gather ye rosebuds while ye may...

  9. #9

    Odgovor: William Shakespeare

    Juliet: Romeo? Romeo? Oh Romeo! What's here? A cup clos'd in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end - Ah churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after - I will kiss thy lips. Haply, some poison yet doth hang on them, to make me die with a restorative. ( kisses him ) Thy lips are warm.

    Noise off

    Juliet: Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief - O happy dagger. This is thy sheath, there rust and let me die. Ouch.

    She dies


    (from "Romeo and Juliet" by William Shakespeare)
    Poruku je izmenio Cecara, 19.02.2009 u 19:27 Razlog: autor
    Gather ye rosebuds while ye may...

  10. #10

    Odgovor: William Shakespeare

    O, that this too too solid flesh would melt
    Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
    Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
    His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
    How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
    Seem to me all the uses of this world!
    Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
    That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
    Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
    But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:
    So excellent a king; that was, to this,
    Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
    That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
    Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
    Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
    As if increase of appetite had grown
    By what it fed on: and yet, within a month-
    Let me not think on't - Frailty, thy name is woman!
    A little month, or ere those shoes were old
    With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
    Like Niobe, all tears:-why she, even she-
    O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
    Would have mourn'd longer-married with my uncle,
    My father's brother, but no more like my father
    Than I to Hercules: within a month:
    Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
    Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
    She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
    With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
    It is not nor it cannot come to good:
    But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.


    __________________


    To be, or not to be: that is the question:
    Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
    The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
    Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
    And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
    No more; and by a sleep to say we end
    The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
    That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
    Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
    To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
    For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
    When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
    Must give us pause: there's the respect
    That makes calamity of so long life;
    For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
    The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
    The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
    The insolence of office and the spurns
    That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
    When he himself might his quietus make
    With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
    To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
    But that the dread of something after death,
    The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
    No traveller returns, puzzles the will
    And makes us rather bear those ills we have
    Than fly to others that we know not of?
    Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
    And thus the native hue of resolution
    Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
    And enterprises of great pith and moment
    With this regard their currents turn awry,
    And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
    The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
    Be all my sins remember'd.



    (from "Hamlet" by William Shakespeare)
    Poruku je izmenio Cecara, 19.02.2009 u 19:28 Razlog: autor
    Gather ye rosebuds while ye may...

  11. #11

    Odgovor: Poklonite pesmu...

    Pity would be no more
    If we did not make somebody poor,
    And Mercy no more could be
    If all were as happy as we.

    And mutual fear brings Peace,
    Till the selfish loves increase;
    Then Cruelty knits a snare,
    And spreads his baits with care.

    He sits down with holy fears,
    And waters the ground with tears;
    Then Humility takes its root
    Underneath his foot.

    Soon spreads the dismal shade
    Of Mystery over his head,
    And the caterpillar and fly
    Feed on the Mystery.

    And it bears the fruit of Deceit,
    Ruddy and sweet to eat,
    And the raven his nest has made
    In its thickest shade.

    The gods of the earth and sea
    Sought through nature to find this tree,
    But their search was all in vain:
    There grows one in the human Brain.

    William Blake
    Poruku je izmenio SQUAW, 01.05.2007 u 08:56 Razlog: dodat autor

  12. #12

    Odgovor: Poklonite pesmu...

    Dream Land


    Where sunless rivers weep
    Their waves into the deep,
    She sleeps a charmed sleep:
    Awake her not.
    Led by a single star,
    She came from very far
    To seek where shadows are
    Her pleasant lot.


    She left the rosy morn,
    She left the fields of corn,
    For twilight cold and lorn
    And water springs.
    Through sleep, as through a veil,
    She sees the sky look pale,
    And hears the nightingale
    That sadly sings.


    Rest, rest, a perfect rest
    Shed over brow and breast;
    Her face is toward the west,
    The purple land.
    She cannot see the grain
    Ripening on hill and plain;
    She cannot feel the rain
    Upon her hand.


    Rest, rest, for evermore
    Upon a mossy shore;
    Rest, rest at the heart's core
    Till time shall cease:
    Sleep that no pain shall wake;
    Night that no morn shall break
    Till joy shall overtake
    Her perfect peace.


    Christina Rossetti

    Gaa wiin daa-aangoshkigaazo ahaw enaabiyaan gaa-inaabid


  13. #13

    Odgovor: Poklonite pesmu...

    I like my body when it is with your

    I like my body when it is with your
    body. It is so quite new a thing.
    Muscles better and nerves more.
    I like your body. I like what it does,
    I like its hows. I like to feel the spine
    of your body and its bones, and the trembling
    -firm-smooth ness and which i will
    again and again and again
    kiss, I like kissing this and that of you,
    I like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
    of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
    over parting flesh ... And eyes big love-crumbs,

    and possibly I like the thrill

    of under me you so quite new



    Edward Estlin Cummings
    Gaa wiin daa-aangoshkigaazo ahaw enaabiyaan gaa-inaabid


  14. #14

    02 Odgovor: Poklonite pesmu...

    Koen za Shangri La neka putuje...
    Suzanne

    Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
    You can hear the boats go by
    You can spend the night beside her
    And you know that she's half crazy
    But that's why you want to be there
    And she feeds you tea and oranges
    That come all the way from China
    And just when you mean to tell her
    That you have no love to give her
    Then she gets you on her wavelength
    And she lets the river answer
    That you've always been her lover
    And you want to travel with her
    And you want to travel blind
    And you know that she will trust you
    For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.

    And Jesus was a sailor
    When he walked upon the water
    And he spent a long time watching
    From his lonely wooden tower
    And when he knew for certain
    Only drowning men could see him
    He said "All men will be sailors then
    Until the sea shall free them"
    But he himself was broken
    Long before the sky would open
    Forsaken, almost human
    He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
    And you want to travel with him
    And you want to travel blind
    And you think maybe you'll trust him
    For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.

    Now Suzanne takes your hand
    And she leads you to the river
    She is wearing rags and feathers
    From Salvation Army counters
    And the sun pours down like honey
    On our lady of the harbour
    And she shows you where to look
    Among the garbage and the flowers
    There are heroes in the seaweed
    There are children in the morning
    They are leaning out for love
    And they will lean that way forever
    While Suzanne holds the mirror
    And you want to travel with her
    And you want to travel blind
    And you know that you can trust her
    For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

  15. #15

    Odgovor: Poezija raspolozenja..

    JULIE WITH...

    I am on an open sea,
    Just drifting as the hours go slowly by.

    Julie with her open blouse
    Is gazing up into the empty sky

    Now it seems to be so strange here
    Now it's so blue.
    The still sea is darker than before...

    No wind disturbs our coloured sails.
    The radio is silent, so are we.

    Julie's head is on her arm;
    Her fingers brush the surface of the sea

    Now I wonder if we'll be seen here
    Or if time has left us all alone.
    The still sea is darker than before...

    B.Eno
    neunistiva zlojebaba!

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