Bernard Dewulf: Dido's Lament (From Dutch)

Dido's Lament
By Bernard Dewulf
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

Time is done with us.
This very night it will drive me to dawn
In another land. New daybreak there will wake me
Up at an unfathomable window.

No one is ever made for someone. Sometimes
We get knotted in the lamentation of a counterheart.
And isn't every moment, as you said, at every moment
Ready for everyone's infinity?

Infinity is over now. I want my time
And my good times. It moves our timepiece heart apace
As it fails truly for some twenty lovely lines-
But, in the mirror, it just fails you to your face.

I'm going now, dear neverman of mine. I'm of this side.
I am wrought of woman.
I hold you dear.
I hold you, dear, alone; it's how we breathe.

My new land will wash me in its streaming waters,
Rock me in its tidy beds, conceive me in its language.
I'll make a thousand pictures of you there
And your emptiness will bore and bore me as I stare.

Many thanks to: Maartje Wenting for explaining the effect of Dewulf's coinages, and to Hassan for saving me from a blunder.

The Original:

Dido's Klacht
Bernard Dewulf

De tijd is met ons klaar.
Vannacht nog rijdt hij mij de dageraad in
van een ander land. De nieuwe ochtend zal mij wekken
aan een onbegrijpelijk raam.

Niemand is voor iemand ooit gemaakt. Soms
raken wij verstrikt in het lamento van een tegenziel.
En is niet, zei je, elk moment op elk moment
bereid tot iedereens oneindigheid?

De oneindigheid is nu gedaan. Ik wil mijn tijd
en mijn geluk. Het kan ons tijdelijk hart bewegen
als het twintig mooie regels lang mislukt.
Maar in de spiegel valt het lelijk tegen.

Ik ga nu, man van mij van nooit. Ik ben van deze kant.
Ik ben van vrouw gemaakt.
Ik heb je lief.
Ik heb je lief alleen, zo ademen wij.

Mijn nieuwe land zal mij in stromend water wassen,
mij wiegen in zijn nette bedden, bedenken in zijn taal.
Ik zal er duizend fotos van je maken
en kijkend zal ik op je leegte uitgekeken raken.

Herman Gorter: The Silent Road (From Dutch)

The Silent Road
By Herman Gorter
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

The silent road
The night's moonlightened road

The trees
The ever so silently aged trees
The water
The softly tautened sated water.

And there yonder afar, the sunken sky
With its great starry lie.


The Original:

De stille weg
Herman Gorter

De stille weg
de maannachtlichte weg –

de bomen
de zo stil oudgeworden bomen –
het water
het zachtbespannen tevreeë water.

En daar achter in 't ver de neergezonken hemel
met 't sterrengefemel.

Gérard de Nerval: Anteros (From French)

In this sonnet, whose references and récherché twists are numerous and elaborate, the gods of ancient pantheons are nursing an ancient grudge against Yahweh for the tyranny and exclusivity of the monotheism he demands. Banished to the status of devils and demons, the old deities are darkly preparing to do to Yahweh what the Egyptian people did to Mubarak.

Anteros¹
By Gérard de Nerval
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

You ask me why I keep such wrath at heart
And on my pliant neck a rebel face:
Mine is the blood of great Antaeus'² race.
Back at the conquering god I hurl his dart.

Yea, I am one whom the Avenger³ inspires.
His spited lip has marked me for his creeds.
My brow, Alas!, as pale as Abel's bleeds
The quenchless red of Cain above the fires.

Yahweh! The last who battled thee and fell
Crying out "Tyrant!" from the rift of Hell
Was Baal⁴ my grandsire, or my father Dagon⁵...

By them thrice baptized in Cocytus'⁶ river
I guard my Amalekite⁷ mother now and ever
And at her feet sow teeth of the old dragon⁸.

Notes:

¹- Anteros, the speaker, is the Greek god of requital- the fosterer of requited love, and punisher of those who scorn others.
²- Antaeus, son of Poseidon, was a giant who wrestled Heracles.
³-"The Avenger":- probably Phthonos, Greek spirit of envy.
⁴-Baal is a Canaanite deity whose worship is punished and forbidden by God/Yahweh in the book of Judges.
⁵-Dagon, the ostensible Canaanite god of fish (though that is actually a folk etymology), is the patron deity of the Philistines in the Book of Samuel where his worship is likewise forbidden by Yahweh/God.
⁶-Cocytus: the stream of lamentation, one of the Greek rivers of the underworld.
⁷- The Amalekites, in the Hebrew Bible, were a people who once attacked the Israelites during their exodus. As a result Yahweh commands the Israelites to engage in a protracted campaign of divinely-sanctioned ethnic cleansing, to exterminate every last one of their race from existence.
⁸- The teeth of a dragon in Greek mythology which, once planted, grow into fully armed warriors

The Original:

Antéros
Gérard de Nerval

Tu demandes pourquoi j'ai tant de rage au coeur
Et sur un col flexible une tête indomptée;
C'est que je suis issu de la race d'Antée,
Je retourne les dards contre le dieu vainqueur.

Oui, je suis de ceux-là qu'inspire le Vengeur,
Il m'a marqué le front de sa lèvre irritée;
Sous la pâleur d'Abel, hélas! ensanglantée,
J'ai parfois de Caïn l'implacable rougeur!

Jéhovah! le dernier, vaincu par ton génie,
Qui, du fond des enfers, criait: "O tyrannie!"
C'est mon aïeul Bélus ou mon père Dagon...

Ils m'ont plongé trois fois dans les eaux du Cocyte,
Et, protégeant tout seul ma mère Amalécyte,
Je ressème à ses pieds les dents du vieux dragon.

Bialik: "Tonight, I lurked..." (From Hebrew)

"Tonight, I lurked..."
By Hayyim Bialik
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click to hear me recite the original in Ashkenazi Hebrew

Tonight, I lurked out by your bedroom,
And saw you: silenced, unwhole,
Your eyes disturbed at the window
In search of your love and lost soul;

In search of devotion's requital¹-
And you did not see, my love,
My soul slapped and thrashed at your window
Like some horror-smitten dove.

Notes:
¹- The phrase used in Hebrew is an allusion to the "marriage" between God and Israel in the book of Jeremiah. The precise passage alluded to is Jeremiah 2:3

כה אמר יהוה זכרתי לך חסד נעוריך אהבת כלולתיך לכתך אחרי במדבר בארץ לא זרועה
Thus says the Lord: "I remember the devotion of your youth, your love as a bride, how you followed me in the wilderness in a land unsown."

However, whereas the husband (i.e. God) remembers the bride's (i.e. Israel's) love and devotion- in Bialik's poem, the woman is searching for something she apparently never had, for the requital of her devotion. The implication is that the love is unconsummated. Failed love of this sort is one of Bialik's favorite themes.

The Original:

הַלַּיְלָה אָרַבְתִּי

חיים נחמן ביאליק

הַלַּיְלָה אָרַבְתִּי עַל-חַדְרֵךְ

וָאֶרְאֵךְ שֹׁמֵמָה הֶחֱרַשְׁתְּ;

בְּעֵינַיִךְ הַנְּבוּכוֹת בַּחַלּוֹן

נִשְׁמָתֵךְ הָאֹבְדָה בִּקַּשְׁתְּ –

בִּקַּשְׁתְּ אֶת-גְּמוּל חֶסֶד נְעוּרָיִךְ –

וְאַתְּ לֹא-רָאִית, אֲהוּבָתִי,

כִּי כְּיוֹנָה חֲרֵדָה בְּחַלּוֹנֵךְ

הִתְחַבְּטָה, הִתְלַבְּטָה נִשְׁמָתִי.

Hayyim Bialik: At Flickering Sundown (from Hebrew)

At Flickering Sundown
By Hayyim Bialik
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click here to hear me recite the poem in Ashkenazi Hebrew pronunciation

At flickering sundown, come to the window
And lean to me, let me receive
Your arms round my neck, your head on my head-
And let us conjoin in the eve.

So blended, toward that bright, terrible Splendor
We'll turn our eyes, silent, and see.
On seas of sheer luster, at sunset we'll set 
Our innermost wonderings free. 

And rustling like doves, desirously wild,
They'll home for the distance, the height,
To reach violet ridges, islands of splendor.
And there they will calmly alight...

Those islands afar! Those same worlds on high
Which we in our dreams saw so well,
Which rendered us strangers under all Heaven,
Converted our lives into Hell;

Those islands of gold for which we so thirsted
As if for a homeland, whose way
All stars of the night kept signaling out
To us with one quivering ray....

On them we were left, no friend or companion:
Two flowers cast out to the sand,
Two lost ones who seek a thing lost forever,
As strangers out in a strange land.

Many thanks to: Andrew Frisardi, Lee Moore, Seree Zohar and Adam Elgar for comments and improvements on the English

The Original:

עִם דִּמְדּוּמֵי הַחַמָּה
חיים נחמן ביאליק‎

עִם דִּמְדּוּמֵי הַחַמָּה אֶל-הַחַלּוֹן נָא-גשִׁי
וְעָלַי הִתְרַפָּקִי,
לִפְתִי הֵיטֵב צַוָּארִי, שִׂימִי רֹאשֵׁךְ עַל-רֹאשִׁי –
וְכֹה עִמִּי תִדְבָּקִי.

וּמְחֻשָּׁקִים וּדְבֵקִים, אֶל-הַזֹּהַר הַנּוֹרָא
דּוּמָם נִשָּׂא עֵינֵינוּ;
וְשִׁלַּחְנוּ לַחָפְשִׁי עַל-פְּנֵי יַמֵּי הָאוֹרָה
כָּל-הִרְהוּרֵי לִבֵּנוּ.

וְהִתְנַשְּׂאוּ לַמָּרוֹם בִּיעָף שׁוֹקֵק כַּיּוֹנִים,
וּבַמֶּרְחָק יַפְלִיגוּ, יֹאבֵדוּ;
וְעַל-פְּנֵי רֻכְסֵי אַרְגָּמָן, אִיֵּי-זֹהַר אַדְמוֹנִים,
בִּיעָף דּוּמָם יֵרֵדוּ.

הֵם הָאִיִּים הָרְחוֹקִים, הָעוֹלָמוֹת הַגְּבֹהִים
זוּ בַחֲלוֹמוֹת רְאִינוּם;
שֶׁעָשׂוּנוּ לְגֵרִים תַּחַת כָּל-הַשָּׁמָיִם,
וְחַיֵּינוּ – לְגֵיהִנֹּם.

הֵמָּה אִיֵּי-הַזָּהָב זוּ צָמֵאנוּ אֲלֵיהֶם
כְּאֶל אֶרֶץ מוֹלֶדֶת;
שֶׁכָּל-כּוֹכְבֵי הַלַּיִל רָמְזוּ לָנוּ עֲלֵיהֶם
בְּאוֹר קֶרֶן רוֹעֶדֶת.

וַעֲלֵיהֶם נִשְׁאַרְנוּ בְּלִי-רֵעַ וְעָמִית
כִּשְׁנֵי פְרָחִים בַּצִּיָּה;
כִּשְׁנֵי אֹבְדִים הַמְבַקְשִׁים אֲבֵדָה עוֹלָמִית
עַל-פְּנֵי אֶרֶץ נָכְרִיָּה.

Commentary with Transliteration and Literal Translation:

This poem is one of my very favorite things written in Hebrew. Though I've tried to do my best to communicate its greatness in the poetic rendering above, the original is heavily allusive (like a sizable portion of all Hebrew poetry, due to the remarkable continuity of the Hebrew tradition.) "Im Dimdúmey Haxámo" is rich with references not only to the Torah, but to Kabbalah and much else. Though the following commentary, interspersed with a transliteration and literal translation, barely skims the surface of the poem, I hope it can give the interested English speaker some idea of what this poem is doing in Hebrew.


Stanzas 1 & 2

Im dimdúmey haxámo el haxáloyn no-góyši
Veoláy hisrapóki
Lífsi héytev tsavóri, sími róyšex al róyši
Vexóy ími tidbóki.

Umxušókim udvéykim, el hazóyhar hanóyro
Dúmom níso eynéynu
Vešiláchnu laxófši al pney yámey hoóyro
Kol hirhúrey libéynu.

At twilight, do come to the window
And lean against me (or: enfold me)
Hold fast to my neck, set your head against my head
And thus be conjoined with me (or: cleave to me)

Fastened and conjoined, to the terrible splendor
We shall silently lift our eyes
And set free over the surface of the seas of light
All the fantasies of our hearts.

The opening stanza appears to suggest the beginning of a conventional love poem. It is redolent with echos, textual and narrative, of the Song of Songs. Passages alluded to include the following

[8:6]
מִי זֹאת, עֹלָה מִן-הַמִּדְבָּר, מִתְרַפֶּקֶת, עַל-דּוֹדָה
Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved?
(where the word "leaning" translates the same verb להתרפק as "enfold" does in my prose crib)

[2:6]
שְׂמֹאלוֹ תַּחַת לְרֹאשִׁי, וִימִינוֹ תְּחַבְּקֵנִי.
Let his left hand be under my head, and his right hand embrace me.


[2:9]
דּוֹמֶה דוֹדִי לִצְבִי, אוֹ לְעֹפֶר הָאַיָּלִים; הִנֵּה-זֶה עוֹמֵד, אַחַר כָּתְלֵנוּ--מַשְׁגִּיחַ מִן-הַחַלֹּנוֹת,
My beloved is like a gazelle or a young hart; behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh in through the windows,

Moreover, the entire stanza suggests a quasi-spiritual conjoining similar to many interpretations of the Song of Songs.

However, there is a darker subtext. Although the opening words עם דימדומי החמה im dimdúmey haxámo mean "at twilight" as a phrase, the literal, word-by-word meaning is something more like "at the petering-out of the sun." This lends the phrase a more ominous tone than "twilight" or "sundown" have in English. Furthermore, while the amatory entreaties of the Song of Songs usually take place in the daylight or morning, night time in that text is often a period of unfulfilled yearning. Therefore, having this conjugal occurrence in the twilight flips the Song-of-songs allusion on its head.

The second stanza is slightly more overtly ominous. The words I have rendered literally above as "terrible splendor" are extremely poignant in Hebrew. נורא Nóyro contains both the common meaning of "terrible" and the Biblical meaning of "awe-inspiring." זוהר Zóyhar not only means "glory" and "brightness" as well as "splendor" but is also the title of the most important work of Kabbalah (Jewish mysticism), the Zohar. The Zohar is a mystical commentary on the Torah, providing a discussion of the nature of sin, good and evil, God's relationship with man and a host of other things. The joining of the man and the woman of the first four lines now stops being a simple love poem and takes on a spiritual dimension when the reader realizes that the Zohar teaches that God's essence is not homogeneous, but that it has two dimensions, male and female, which must be conjoined into one (a reversal of the process that created Eve from Adam's flesh) in order to maintain harmony in the universe. In addition, the twilight of the opening line is made even more resonant now by the Kabbalistic teaching that God's thought is especially concerned with men in the twilight hours.

The phrasing of the final two lines of the second stanza uses a phrase ימי האורה yámey hoóyro "the seas of light" which subverts a rather trite phrase yóymey hoóyro (days of light.) The word for "light" used here has mystical connotations as well. It also alludes to the opening of Genesis where god sends his spirit "over the face (al pney)" of the darkness and the waters before creating light, and dividing the world into Night and Day, Heaven and Earth, Land and Water. The lovers take on a superhuman, godlike quality as their thoughts roam God's creation of light as God's thoughts once roamed the waters of the pre-eternal universe. However, by using the words הירהורי לבינו hirhúrey libéynu, "fancies of our [human] heart," (which, by the way, is also an idiom meaning roughly "innermost thoughts") the poem insists on their mortal, human nature, and hints that these two humans are attempting something meant only for God himself.

Stanzas 3 & 4

Vehisnásu lamóroym bióf šóykek kayóynim
Uvamérxok yaflígu, yoyvéydu;
Val pney rúxsey argómon, íyey zóyhar admóynim,
Bióf dúmom yeréydu.

Heym hoíyim harxóykim, hooylómoys hagvóyhim
Zu baxlóymoys reínum
She'osúnu legéyrim táxas kol hashomóyim
Vexayéynu lgeyhínom.

And they will arise toward the heights in a yearning/rustling flight like doves
And sail into the distance and be lost
And upon purple mountain ridges and ruddy islands of splendor
They will descent quietly in flight

They are the distant isles, the lofty worlds
That we saw in dreams
That made us strangers/converts/gentiles under all the heavens
And made our lives Hell.

The word מרום móroym is a word that can denote any high place. However, in the Bible, it most often denotes the abode of God (as in Psa 68:18; Psa 93:4; Psa 102:19 and elsewhere.) The word יונים yoynim (doves) recalls Biblical passages such as those in Leviticus and Numbers, where a dove is used as a sacrificial offering to God. The word יפליגו yafligu (sail/soar off) brings to mind also the portion of Genesis where Noah sends forth a dove to see if the flood is over. שוקק šoykek (yearning, rustling) connotes carnal desire (and occurs several times with such a meaning in, for example, the song of songs) but is also often used in religious literature to describe someone who is ruled by their earthly, base ambitions, trapped in the throes of pleasure-seeking, and is unable to set their heart on God, unable to rejoice. The word used to describe the mountain ridges as "purple" (ארגמן argómon)is also the one used to describe a high priest's garments. The effect this produces is one of confusion. Good and evil, divinity and cupidity are confounded in ways that make the meaning of this passage difficult to paraphrase.

In the subsequent stanza, the distant isles, האיים הרחוקים ha'iyim harxóykim are described using a phrase from Isaiah 66:19 "The distant isles that have not heard of My fame nor seen My glory." As Bialik's line indicates, they are illusions, the fantasies of dreams. The word גרים geyrim, which is rendered as "strangers" above is extremely loaded. גר Geyr originally meant something like "wayfarer" or "outsider" (meanings it still possesses) but it also described either a non-Jew or (as in modern Hebrew) a convert to Judaism: one who is in some way set apart from the Jewish ethnos. It suggests that the illusory islands created by the couple's blasphemous love have set them apart from God, as it has set them apart from each other.

Stanzas 5 & 6:

Héymo íyey hazóhov zu tsomeynu eleyhem
Keel érets moylédes
Šekól kóychvey haláyl rómzu lónu aléyhem
Beoyr kéren royédes

Vealéyhem nišárnu bli réya veómis
Kishnéy próxim batsíyo
Kishnéy óyvdim hamvákšim aveydo oylómis
Al pney érets noxríyo

Those are the islands of gold for which we thirsted
As for a homeland
At which all the night's stars hinted
With the light of a tremulous ray.

And on them we were left without friend or companion
Like two flowers in the desert/wilderness/waste
Like two lost ones seeking an eternal/worldwide loss (i.e.something forever lost)
On a foreign land.

Heaven and earth have not been united, the lovers have failed to achieve perfect union and harmony because such demands are beyond the ability of human love, and only within the power of God. In seeking to be god-like, they have estranged themselves from divinity, perhaps even from the possibility of the divine's existence. The home they/the speaker thought to reach has turned out to be empty space. The word ציה tsiyo (wilderness) here used carries with it strong Biblical connotations of banishment, of being out of place, as well as having to thrive in barrenness. This is strengthened by the rhyme-phrase ארץ נוחריה éretz noyxríyo which, in context, echos Exodus [2:22], where Moses has a child with Zipporah while a fugitive in the desert:

וַתֵּלֶד בֵּן, וַיִּקְרָא אֶת-שְׁמוֹ גֵּרְשֹׁם: כִּי אָמַר--גֵּר הָיִיתִי, בְּאֶרֶץ נָכְרִיָּה.
" And she bore a son, and he called his name Gershom; for he said: 'I have been a stranger in a strange land (éretz noxrío).'"

This, juxtaposed with ארץ מולדת éyrets moyléydes- land of birth, homeland , along with the idea of "lost ones" (אובדים oyvdim) has sometimes been thought to connect the whole poem with Zionist sentiment and the Jewish predicament. On a more personal level, the speakers have by their own choice elected to relive the cycle of disillusionment.

Gabriel Preil: For The First Time (From Hebrew)

For The First Time
By Gabriel Preil
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

In Memory of Helman Kushner

The gravedigger's shirt
went red in the sun,
his boots black
in the white of the snow:
as if the day had nightened
for the first time,
as if the red earth had never before
gaped its mouth like so-
And the mourners stood like children surprised
before the coming of an hour
that reddened a gravedigger's shirt
and their blood became snow.

The Original:

זו הפעם הראשונה

גבריאל פרייל

להלמן קושנר היקר ז''ל

חולצתו של הקברן

האדימה בשמש,

מגפיו השחירו

עם לובן השלג:

אלא שיום זה כאילו התלייל

זו הפעם הראשונה,

האדמה כאילו קודם לכן

לא כך פתחה את פיה–

והאבלים כילדים מופתעים

עמדו מול עובדה של שעה

מאדימה חולצתו של קברן

ודמם נהפך לשלג.

Malka Tussman: Speechless Water (From Yiddish)

Speechless Water
By Malka Tussman
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

The sea
ripped a rib from its side
and said:
Go,
lie down there,
be a sign unto me that I
am great,
that I am mighty.
Go,
be a sign unto me.

The canal at my window lies
Mute.

What can be sadder
Than speechless water?

The Original:

וואַסער אָן לשון

 מלכה כייפעץ טוסמאַן

דער ים

האָט פֿון זײַן זײַט

אַַ ריפּ ארויסגעריסן

און געזאָגט:

גיי,

לייג זיך דאָרטן,

זײַ מיר א סימן אַז איך בין

גרויס,

מעכטיק בין איך.

גיי,

זײַ מיר אַ סימן.

ליגט דער קאַנאַל בײַ מײַנע פֿענצטער

שטום.

וואָס קען נאָך טרויעריקער זײַן

ווי וואַסער

אָן לשון

Boris Pasternak: February (From Russian)

February
By Boris Pasternak
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click to hear me recite the original in Russian

February. Get ink. Weep.
Write the heart out about it. Sing
Another song of February
While raucous slush burns black with spring.

Six grivnas* for a buggy ride
Past booming bells, on screaming gears,
Out to a place where rain pours down
Louder than any ink or tears

Where like a flock of charcoal pears,
A thousand blackbirds, ripped awry
From trees to puddles, knock dry grief
Into the deep end of the eye.

A thaw patch blackens underfoot.
The wind is gutted with a scream.
True verses are the most haphazard,
Rhyming the heart out on a theme.

*Grivna: a unit of currency.

The Original:

Февраль
Борис Пастернак

Февраль. Достать чернил и плакать!
Писать о феврале навзрыд,
Пока грохочущая слякоть
Весною черною горит.

Достать пролетку. За шесть гривен,
Чрез благовест, чрез клик колес,
Перенестись туда, где ливень
Еще шумней чернил и слез.

Где, как обугленные груши,
С деревьев тысячи грачей
Сорвутся в лужи и обрушат
Сухую грусть на дно очей.

Под ней проталины чернеют,
И ветер криками изрыт,
И чем случайней, тем вернее
Слагаются стихи навзрыд.

Mihai Eminescu: And if (From Romanian)

(Yes, I know, this poem sounds immensely cheesy. But I didn't think it was right not to include at least one poem by Eminescu, and if you read carefully you'll notice something underneath the cheesiness)

And if...
By Mihai Eminescu
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

And if my window feels the branch
Of a stuttering poplar tree,
It is to make me dream once more
Of clasping you to me.

And if the stars glow on the lake
And light its darkling shoal,
It is to flood my mind with peace
And quell my roiling soul.

And if the clouds draw themselves back
To let the moon blaze through,
It is to make this heart recall
How hard I ache for you.

The Original:

Şi dacă...

Şi dacă ramuri bat în geam
Şi se cutremur plopii,
E ca în minte să te am
Şi-ncet să te apropii.

Şi dacă stele bat în lac
Adâncu-i luminându-l,
E ca durerea mea s-o-mpac
Înseninându-mi gândul.

Şi dacă norii deşi se duc
De iese-n luciu luna,
E ca aminte să-mi aduc
De tine-ntotdeauna.

Nizar Qabbani: "I wrote on the wind" (From Arabic)

"I wrote on the wind"
By Nizar Qabbani
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click here to hear me recite the Arabic

I wrote on the wind
The name of her I love
Which I wrote on the water.
I did not know the wind
Was a poor listener
I did not know the water
Could not remember names.


The Original:

كتبت فوق الريح
اسم التي احبها
كتبت فوق الماء
لم ادر انّ الريح
لا تحسن الإصغاء
لم ادر انّ الماء
لا يحفظ الأسماء

Tuvia Rübner: Lullaby (From Hebrew)

Born in Czechoslovakia, Tuvia Rübner went to Israel as a child and completed his schooling there, growing up on a Kibbutz. He fought in the Israeli army in 1948 as an infantryman in Haifa. Though he was with his wife when she was killed while riding a bus that was ambushed, he himself survived to later remarry and raise a family.

Lullaby
By Tuvia Rübner
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

Oh my panther the nightborn has eyes that spark.

His teeth flash forth in the dark, in the dark,

His claw is sharp as a blade.

Sleep, my child, in the glade!

If you slumber and sleep my God's mercies prevail

And you will not see mother drawing a pail 

Of the azure eyes of the light

To water the maker of night.

Sleep and shut your eyes,

With a merciful star in the skies,

And a star on mother's brow.

In vain my panther lurks now

In the dark, in the dark, in the glade

In a dream at your throat like a blade.

The Original:

שיר ערש

טוביה ריבנר

הלילי, נמרי, לו עיניים דולקות

בחושך, בחושך שניו בורקות,

ציפורן חדה–לו כתער,

נומה, ילדי, ביער!

אם תישן, אמ תנום, ירחם אלי,

לא תראה את אמך שואבת בידלי

את עיני–האורה התכולות

להשקות את בורא הלילות.

סגור עפעפיך ונום

בשמיים כוכב רחום

על מצח–אמך כוכב.

נמרי אורב לשוא

בחושך בחושך, ביער

בחלום על גרונך כמו תער

Goethe: Wayfarer's Evening Song (From German)

Wayfarer's Evening Song
By Goethe
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

Hear me recite the poem in German and English here

Over every hilltop

comes repose.

Through every treetop

blows

barely a breath. The few

birds in the woodland cease their song.

Wait now, before long

You will rest, too. 

The Original:

Wandrers Nachtlied

Über allen Gipfeln
ist Ruh’
in allen Wipfeln
spürest du
kaum einen Hauch.
Die Vögelein schweigen im Walde.
Warte, nur balde
ruhest du auch.

Nizar Qabbani: "Your Love" (From Arabic)

"Your Love"
By Nizar Qabbani
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click to hear me recite the original Arabic

My dear with the deep eyes, Your love
is extreme,
mystical
sacred.
Like birth and death, your love
is unrepeatable.

The Original:

حبك يا عميقة العينين
تطرف
تصوف
عبادة.
حبك مثل الموت والولادة
صعب بأن يعاد مرتين.

Amir Gilboa: Stormwind Evening (From Hebrew)

Stormwind Evening
By Amir Gilboa
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

And still the sun reddens veins on the fronts of houses
With the light of children's smiles,
Of youth's banners,
Of holy day proclamations,
With the light of a few voices
In a gathering of oppressive silence¹
Before the lightning strikes once more.

Notes:

¹- The word used for "gathering" in the original is a biblical term found once in the Hebrew Bible, in 2 Samuel 22:12 and he shrouded himself in a canopy of dark: a gathering of waters, of thick rainclouds.

The Original:

ערב סופה

אמיר גלבוע

ועוד השמש מווריד את חזיתות הבתים

באור של חיוכי ילדים

של דגלי נוער

של כרזות חג

באור של קולות מעטים

בתוך חשרת דממה מעיקה

טרם שוב יכה הברק

Esther Raab: "Today I am Modest" (From Hebrew)

"Today I am Modest"
By Esther Raab
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

Today I am modest as an animal,
Spread flush as rainwashed fields.
With a small fat hand I lead
My life towards compassion and children.
Today each stranger, each sufferer
Comes to me.
My heart's little gifts
Patter rain-like about me.
And already I carry Tomorrow-
Its weight closed in
And again leaping out,
Without looking, toward all the unknown.

The Original:

היום ענווה אני

אסתר ראב

היום ענווה אני כחיה

שטוחה ככרי דשא רוויים

ביד קטנה שמנה אוביל חיי

אל הרחמים ואל הילדים.

היום יקרב אלי

כל זר וכל כואב,

כגשם סביבי ישתקשקו

מתנות–לבבי הקטנות

והמחיר כבר אני נושאת–

כובד סגור

ומזנק שוב

אל הבילתי ידוע

Samih Al-Qasim: Buchenwald (From Arabic)

Buchenwald
By Samih Al-Qasim
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click to hear me recite the original in Arabic

Have you forgotten how you were shamed in Buchenwald?
Do you remember how you were flamed in Buchenwald?
Have you forgotten your love in the great glossary of silence?
Do you remember your panic at the great sovereignty of death,
In the great nightmare of time,
That all the world would become a Buchenwald?
Whether you have forgotten or not,
The images of the dead
Remain among the flower wreaths...
And from among the dismembered,
A hand rises forth,
With palm nailed through, with wrist tattooed
As a sign unto all the planet.
Do you remember, or do you not?
Buchenwald-
Whether or not you've forgotten,
The images of the slaughtered
Remain among the flower wreathes.

The Original:

بوخنفالد

سميح القاسم

هل تنسى عارك في بوخنفالد

هل تذكر نارك في بخنفالد

هل تنسى حبك في قاموس الصمت

هل تذكر رعبك في ناموس الموت

في كابوس الوقت

ان يصبح كل العالم بوخنفالد؟

تنسى. لا تنسى. تبقى صور الموتى

بين أكاليل الورد

ومن الأشلاء البشرية

تطلع يد

مسمار في الكف ووشم في الزند

لافتة للكرة الأرضية

تذكر؟ لا تذكر؟

بوخنفالد

تنسى؟ لا تنسى؟

تبقى صور القتلى... بين أكاليل الورد...

Pablo Neruda: Love Poem XVI (From Spanish)

Love Poem XVI
By Pablo Neruda
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click to hear me recite the Spanish

You in my twilight sky are like a cloud,
Your color and your shape are as I love them
You are mine, you are mine, dear sweet-lipped woman.
My endless dreams live on within your life.

My soul's lamp pours its dyes upon your feet
Sweeter on your lips is my bittered wine:
Oh harvester who reaps my evensong,
My solitary dreams so feel you mine!

You're mine, you're mine, I shout it to the evening
breeze, and the wind is off with my widowed voice.
Huntress of my eyes' depths, your plundering
Holds your nocturnal glance back, water-like.

You are caught in my music's net, my dear
love, and my music's nets are heaven-wide.
My soul's born on the shore of your mourning eyes.
And in your mourning eyes begins the land of dreams.


The Original:


Poema de Amor VI
Pablo Neruda

En mi cielo a crepúsculo eres como una nube
y tu color y forma son como yo los quiero.
Eres mía, eres mía, mujer de labios dulces
y viven en tu vida mis infinitos sueños.

La lámpara de mi alma te sonrosa los pies,
el agrio vino mío es más dulce en tus labios:
oh segadora de mi canción de atardecer,
cómo te sienten mía mis sueños solitarios!

Eres mía, eres mía, voy gritando en la brisa
de la tarde, y el viento arrastra mi voz viuda.
Cazadora del fondo de mis ojos, tu robo
estanca como el agua tu mirada nocturna.

En la red de mi música estás presa, amor mío,
y mis redes de música son anchas como el cielo.
Mi alma nace a la orilla de tus ojos de luto.
En tus ojos de luto comienza el país del sueño.

Abraham Shlonsky: Toil (From Hebrew)

Toil
By Abraham Shlonsky
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click to hear me recite the original in Ashkenazi Hebrew

Clothe me, goodly mother, in a splendrous coat of many colors,¹
Lead me with the dawn unto my toil

My land wraps itself in light as in a tallit²
Houses stand like tefillin,
And like tefillin-straps the palm-paved highways tumble down.³

Thus a beautiful new city lifts a morning prayer to her Maker,
And among all Makers,
Abraham your Son
Is the hymnal poet-paver
Of the roads of Israel.

In the twilight of the evening, Father will return from labors,
Warmly whisper like a prayer:
Dearest son, my Abraham⁴
Flesh and bones and veins and sinews:
Hallelujah⁵

Clothe me, goodly mother in a splendrous coat of many colors,
Lead me with the dawn
Unto my toil.

Notes:
^1- See Genesis 37:3 where "Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, because he was the son of his old age: and he made him a coat of many colours."
^2- See Psalm 104:2 where God is "enwrapped in light as in a cloak"
^3- A tallit is a prayer shawl, and tefillin are small boxes attached to the head in worship. The square houses perched on the hills are compared to the square tefillin, and the roads to the valley like the straps holding it. The land is a worshipper standing at morning prayer.
^4- see Jeremiah 13:19 where God refers to Ephraim as "my darling son"
^5- Halelujah means "Praise ye God"

The Original:

עמל

אברהם שלונסקי

הַלְבִּישִׁינִי, אִמָּא כְּשֵׁרָה, כְּתֹנֶת־פַּסִּים לְתִפְאֶרֶת
וְעִם שַׁחֲרִית הוֹבִילִינִי אֱלֵי עָמָל.
 
עוֹטְפָה אַרְצִי אוֹר כַּטַּלִית.
בָּתִּים נִצְּבוּ כַּטּוֹטָפוֹת.
וְכִרְצוּעוֹת־תְּפִילִין גוֹלְשִׁים כְּבִישִׁים, סָלְלוּ כַּפַּיִם.
 
תְּפִלַּת שַׁחֲרִית פֹּה תִּתְפַּלֵּל קִרְיָה נָאָה אֱלֵי בּוֹרְאָהּ.
וּבַבּוֹרְאִים
בְּנֵךְ אַבְרָהָם,
פַּיְטָן סוֹלֵל בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל.
  
וּבָעֶרֶב בֵּין הַשְּׁמָשׁוֹת יָשׁוּב אַבָּא מִסִּבְלוֹתָיו
וְכִתְפִלָּה יִלְחַשׁ נַחַת:
הֲבֵן יַקִּיר לִי אַבְרָהָם,
עוֹר וְגִידִים וַעֲצָמוֹת.
הַלְלוּיָהּ.
  
הַלְבִּישִׁינִי, אִמָּא כְּשֵׁרָה, כְּתֹנֶת־פַּסִּים לְתִפְאֶרֶת
וְעִם שַׁחֲרִית הוֹבִילִינִי
אֱלֵי עָמָל.

Rimbaud: Sensation (From French)

Sensation
By Arthur Rimbaud
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

Through evenings blue with summer, pricked by wheat,
I’ll pass down paths and crush the grass I tread,
Will dream and feel its coolness underfoot,
Will let the breezes bathe my naked head.

I will not speak, nor think, and yet my soul
Will bear the surge of boundless love in me. 
I'll wander far away, a vagabond
In Nature like a woman's company.

The Original:

Par les soirs bleus d'été, j'irai dans les sentiers,
Picoté par les blés, fouler l'herbe menue :
Rêveur, j'en sentirai la fraicheur à mes pieds.
Je laisserai le vent baigner ma tête nue.

Je ne parlerai pas, je ne penserai rien :
Mais l'amour infini me montera dans l'âme,
Et j'irai loin, bien loin, comme un bohémien,
Par la Nature, -- heureux comme avec une femme.

Heinrich Heine: The Pine and the Palm (From German)

The Pine and the Palm
By Heinrich Heine
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

There stands a pine tree- lonesome
In the north on a barren height
In slumber. Ice and snowstorm
Wrap it in sheets of white.

It dreams about a palmtree
Far in the east, alone,
Staring, in sorrow and silence,
At a blazing wall of stone.


The Original:

Der Fichtenbaum und die Palme
Heinrich Heine

Ein Fichtenbaum steht einsam
Im Norden auf kahler Höh';
Ihn schläfert; mit weißer Decke
Umhüllen ihn Eis und Schnee.

Er träumt von einer Palme,
Die, fern im Morgenland,
Einsam und schweigend trauert
Auf brennender Felsenwand.

Tuvia Rübner: Sunflower (From Hebrew)

Sunflower
By Tuvia Rübner
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

The wheel of fire without beginning
The wheel of fire without an end
The sword of flame forever spinning,
The dancing Cherub-wings that dart
Around a dark and faded eye,
Around a dark and muted heart.

The original:

חמנית

טוביה ריבנר

גלגל האור ללא ראשית

גלגל האור ללא אחרית

חרב האש המתהפכת

כנפי כרובים במחולם

סביב עין אפלה, דועכת

סביב לב אפל ונאלם.

Shmuel Halkin: Of Things Past (From Yiddish)

Of Things Past
By Shmuel Halkin
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

My father's lips as if speaking someone's blessing,
His eyes turned to the hard green west and lost;
He lifts the death-cold curtain at the window
To let his fingers brush away the frost.

Two stars, two needles stuck dead in the sky;
And the frog-rumpled marsh in silvery gray.
Oh don't take out the weekday table-cloth,
Let this one keepsake of the Sabbath stay.

The Original

פֿון פֿאַרגאַנגענעם

די ליפּן בײַם טאָטן ווי עמעצן בענטשט ער,
די אויגן צום האַרט–גרינעם מערבֿ געהויבן;
דעם טויט–קאַלטן פֿאָרהאַנג ער הייבט אויף פֿון פֿענצטער,
ווישט אויס מיט די פֿינגער פֿאַרלאָפֿענע שויבן

צוויי שטערן– צוויי נאָדלען אין הימל פֿאַרשטאָבן,
באַזילבערטע בלאָטעס צעגרײַזלען די זשאַבעס
אוי, זאָל מען דעם טישטעך ניט לייגן דעם וואָכיקן
זאָל דאָ נאָך פֿאַרבלײַבן אַ זכר פֿון שבּתֿ...

Gabriel Preil: The Astounded Pen (From Yiddish)

And here's one of Gabriel Preil's Yiddish Poems.

The Astounded Pen
By Gabriel Preil
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

Like risen exclamation points
The young trees stand.
Opposite, the old women on their benches
Sit staid like full stops
Following a long sentence
Heavy with meaning,
And pigeons put a parenthesis
Around a silver, melting
Bit of sky.

Alone, I am Job all to myself,
In the shadow of the wheel;
But often my few brief words
End with a dappled question
That drops
From the astounded pen.

The Original:

די זיך–ווונדערנדיקע פּען

גבריאל פרײַל

ווי אויסרוף–צייכן שטעלן זיך אויף

די יונגע ביימער.

די עלטערע פֿרויען זיי אנטקעגן

זיצן מיושבדיק ווי פּונקטן

וואָס קומען נאָך אַ לאַנגן זאַץ,

שווער מיט מיינען.

און טויבן נעמען ארײַן אין קלאַמערן

א באַזילבערט, צעגייענדיק

שטיק הימל.

איך אליין בין אינגאַנצן איובדיק

אינעם שאָטן פֿון ראָד:

אָבער אָפֿט פֿאַרענדיקן זיך

מײַנע קורצע רייד

מיט אַ קאָליררײַכער פראַגע

פֿון דער זיך–ווונדערנדיקער פּען.

Gabriel Preil: A First Poem from Jerusalem (From Hebrew)

A First Poem from Jerusalem
By Gabriel Preil
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

Under these historical skies
I am older than Abraham and all his stars, I am
The young father of the children
Playing amid the pink woods.

In the afternoon on Alharizi street
There gazes out of an arched frame
Such a violet hour of grace
As sometimes whispered unto the prophet,
Tired of fires, who dreamt of a village
Cool among the stars

The Original:

מירושלים שיר ראשון

גבריאל פרייל

מתחת לשמיים ההסטוריים האלה

אני זקן מאברהם וכוככיו, אני

אביהם הצעיר מאוד של הילדים

המשחקים בין העצים הורדורדים.

ובאחר הצהריים ברחוב אלחריזי

נשקפת מתוך מסגרת קמורה

שעת רצון סגולה כזו שודאי

לחשה אי–פעם לנביא שעייף

מן האש וחלם על כפר

קריר בין הכוכבים.

Jorge Luis Borges: Rain (From Spanish)

Rain
By Jorge Luis Borges
Translated by A.Z. Foreman

The afternoon has brightened up at last
For rain is falling, sudden and minute.
Falling or fallen. There is no dispute:
Rain is a thing that happens in the past.

Who hears it fall retrieves a time that fled
When an uncanny windfall could disclose
To him a flower by the name of rose
And the perplexing redness of its red.

Falling until it blinds each windowpane,
Within a suburb now long lost this rain
Shall liven black grapes on a vine inside

A certain patio that is no more.
A long-awaited voice through the downpour
Is from my father. He has never died.


The Original:

Lluvia

Bruscamente la tarde se ha aclarado
Porque ya cae la lluvia minuciosa.
Cae o cayó. La lluvia es una cosa
Que sin duda sucede en el pasado.

Quien la oye caer ha recobrado
El tiempo en que la suerte venturosa
Le reveló una flor llamada rosa
Y el curioso color del colorado.

Esta lluvia que ciega los cristales
Alegrará en perdidos arrabales
Las negras uvas de una parra en cierto

Patio que ya no existe. La mojada
Tarde me trae la voz, la voz deseada,
De mi padre que vuelve y que no ha muerto.