Gerard Manset - Tristes tropiques versuri traducere în engleză
Sad Tropics
Versions: #2
We're told about Indians who suffer and are becoming scarce.
Aren't we themselves oppressed peoples?
No penis sheats, no curare,
but the same terror that forces us to back off.
Some used to set off in the morning and come back
in the evening, living off the land and false hopes.
On piddling hunting grounds,
you still own the right to be cynical
and to refuse to follow the crowd like donkeys,
and not to go dancing like pieces of machinery
on the incense smokes of
on the incense smokes of sad tropics,
among apocalyptic flute sounds.
Some used to set off in the morning and come back
in the evening, hunters-gatherers clad in black.
Even though the forest is dying, rotting away,
this is not enough to be considered a challenge.
Some Atlantises again
Some Atlantises again are collapsing into the sea,
but all that dies one day is reborn one day.
We still own the right to sit there
in the din of great trees and saws,
not to ape others, to pretend,
not to go dancing like pieces of machinery
on the blue smokes of sad tropics,
on the blue smokes of sad tropics,
among apocalyptic flute sounds.
Naked Indian girls, ageless women
who will have turned into peat or folliage,
the day you wake up, the swamp
will be covered in steel up to the clouds.
And in front of precious marble pools
the Indian girls come to die and become scarce.
Aren't we themselves the rarest of Indians?
It might not be too late to save us.
Since we all have to meet our end someday, somewhere,
we will go into hinding in some pond,
in one of those lagoons spared by History,
where the sand is a home, and the wind is a tune,
in one of those sad tropics' lagoons
where the sand is a home, and the wind is a tune,
in one of those sad tropics' lagoons.
In one of those lagoons
where the sand is a home.
in one of those sad tropics' lagoons.
In one of those lagoons
In one of those lagoons
This translation does not claim to be of any particular value.
Glad if you liked it, sorry if you didn't.
You can reuse it as you please.
Glad if it's for knowledge or understanding, sorry if it's just for money or fame.
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01.02.2025
Doctor Faust
Oh, Doctor Faust
Behind you, do you see all these years you've spent wasting your life?
It's time for you to let yourself live life
Oh, Doctor Faust
Diving like this into dead languages, that's not life
If you spend time with them, living languages will revive you
Oh, Doctor Faust
Science is a well where you drown yourself, if you want my opinion
Descend into the well of pleasure because that's life
Oh, Doctor Faust
Leave your Talmudic and astrologic studies behind
Instead, prepare a thesis on my anatomy
Oh, Doctor Faust
Throw your books away, forget Latin, smile at live
In my arms, you'll get to know love and life
Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
Oh, Doctor Faust
Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
01.02.2025
On board of the Aspasia
You traveled in pursuit of your destiny
To white but mournful Switzerland
Always in the deck in a chez-lung downstairs
by the familiar and saddest cause
Always restlessly your folks have been prowling around
But you, staring at the wings, were indifferent
You laughed bitterly at what they said because you felt
That you were travelling to the land of death
One night when we were passing through Stroboli
You said to some laughing man in a joking tone:
'How my sick body looks as it burns,
to the flaming top of the volcano!'
Then I saw you in Marcilia as you were lost
in the noise without turning back
And I who loved only the wet expanse,
I say I could love thee
01.02.2025
Gramophonomaniac
In room of miss Janka
winders and curtains tremble
Like in a fury there a gramophone plays
Because miss Janka is a gramophone maniac
From morning to morning constantly plays.
Syrena’s records are still brought by miss Janka,
She puts all of her money in it and continues to sing
And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
Neighbours of miss Janka, their wives and lovers declared, not being able to sleep at night:
We have enough of miss Janka,
that gramophone maniac,
the police needs to know about it
But when the officer came, miss Janka says
What to do, man, understand I’m afraid to sleep alone
And when I play on the gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me then I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have all of my concerns
As soon as the strict officer heard it himself and wanted to give advice to the poor maiden
He says to miss Janka, that gramophone maniac
„A pity, I will sleep here”
And since then every night from miss Janka’s room
The bas of officer makes the curtains tremble
And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
singable
01.02.2025
At the End of the Park
When sunset
makes the sky grow pale,
from the window,
I look around me.
At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me,
of course,
I know it.
It's only an impression,
a trick of my heart
that makes me see
all this.
Tenderness
is something that
grows deep
in the soul.
If I remember
and if only
I think about you:
At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me
and this time,
I know it.
You're no longer an impression,
a trick of my heart,
I've found
you again.
(At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.)
At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me...