(it's not mine; it's my poor attempt to translate, I reminded. I wonder though, does it make a poem a bit yours? Like, one seventieth? I have the strangest associations this morning...)
I think it’s more than one-seventieth, Chen. Translation is an art where you truly learn that a piece is much more than just the words that comprise it.
That is one of the joys of translation! That even if five people had done so before, each translation is still unique: containing both a part of the original poet's mind and that of the translators! And a beautiful work you've done!
Thank you so much, @Bethel-you're very kind; and it's true-translation is art, as such demanding giving parts of oneself, in a way-I wish I master it better some day, I really do
I feel that! I do something similar as I read some Chinese, and learning the language to a higher proficiency to better understand what the author wishes to convey is something I feel almost daily! Just gotta keep at it!
I love that book(s) (we had two...by Leonid Solovyov, he kinda weaved it together in some amazing way)...i think I re-read it 20 times. Fragging it with me allover.
I will view stars very differently from today forward and listen to hear someone listening.
thank you, Elizabeth 🎇-and for restacking it, too
Beautiful! Thank you for sharing! There is a whole other level to the poems you share on here.
Thank you! So much
(I'd hope so-I pick good ones))
Beyond good!
🩵
Beautiful
🩵🩵🩵
Maiakovski, the poet of the tragic, who died tragically
yes
Dear @The Rewind, @Dave pearen and @felix foffman-thank you for restacking the poem
Glad it’s not the Fiddler^^
)))) me too-I'd butcher it probably
Don't cry. Listen. To your inner voice. Let that voice come to us. Thank you!
I'm scared but at least not for myself. Even though yes a bit for myself too.
Thank you..you're too kind
Beautiful!
I need to use your poetry in my book series too!
thank you dear Lique
(it's not mine; it's my poor attempt to translate, I reminded. I wonder though, does it make a poem a bit yours? Like, one seventieth? I have the strangest associations this morning...)
I think it’s more than one-seventieth, Chen. Translation is an art where you truly learn that a piece is much more than just the words that comprise it.
Thank you so much for the restack, @Kostantin Asimonov-means a lot, a lot
That is one of the joys of translation! That even if five people had done so before, each translation is still unique: containing both a part of the original poet's mind and that of the translators! And a beautiful work you've done!
Thank you so much, @Bethel-you're very kind; and it's true-translation is art, as such demanding giving parts of oneself, in a way-I wish I master it better some day, I really do
I feel that! I do something similar as I read some Chinese, and learning the language to a higher proficiency to better understand what the author wishes to convey is something I feel almost daily! Just gotta keep at it!
The stars are always lit:
even during our days,
when we cannot see them,
they burn for others
to show them the way
through the dark of night
so they are
thank you, Paul
For some odd reason, I am also reminded of the old tale of Nasruddin who bragged he had special powers,
“I can see in the dark!," he brags. "In the darkest darkness, I can see as clearly as if it were broad daylight. I need no light of any kind.”
“Surely you’re joking!” his friend objected. “I’ve seen you carrying a lantern in the dark, just like everybody else does.”
“Of course!” said Nasruddin, smiling. “But I carry a lantern in the dark only so that others won’t run into me.”
I love that book(s) (we had two...by Leonid Solovyov, he kinda weaved it together in some amazing way)...i think I re-read it 20 times. Fragging it with me allover.
that story wasn't though there-thank you!!