Orpheus I #19
Verfasst: 5. Jul 2013, 20:50
Freunde, die kuerzlich entstandenen Uebersetzungen machen mir viel Freude. Hier einige Versuche zu einem Sonnett an Orpheus; keiner gefaellt mir vollkommen. Wollt ihr versuchen?
Rilke’s Sonnet to Orpheus, Series I, #19
Change though the world may as fast
as cloud-collections,
home to the changeless at last
fall all perfections.
Over the thrust and the throng,
freer and higher,
echoes your preluding song,
god with the lyre.
Sorrow we misunderstand,
love we have yet to begin,
death and what’s hidden therein
await unveiling.
Song alone circles the land,
hallowing and hailing.
- J.B. Leishman, 1960
Though the world change swiftly
as the forms in clouds,
all perfected things fall back
to age-old ground.
Over what changes and passes,
wider and freer,
your deep song still hovers,
O god with the lyre.
Pain has not been understood,
love has not been learned,
and what in death removes us
remains undisclosed.
Alone over the land
song hallows and heals.
- Edward Snow, 2009
May time reshape worlds
like a wind molds foam,
love’s work does return
to the primordial home.
Beyond the parade of forms,
freer and higher,
your first song resounds,
God of the Lyre.
We can’t master our grief
nor the maze of romance,
nor see through the curtain
lowered by death.
What makes life sacred:
your song o’er the lands.
Vito, 2010, version 1
Though in the sculpting hands of life
like clouds in wind our time is clay
what once we fully form in love
will find its way to oldest ground.
Who sang the first, the only song?
Above the weather’s play of form
you hug the storm and fling it wide,
Orpheus maestro! Mystic troubador!
No map for us to detour grief,
no dummies’ guidebook, how to love,
and locked remains the gate of death,
bars us like iron from our kin.
Only far above you sing and sing
blessing the dying that we live.
Vito, 2010, version 2
let change go melt world, shift shape mold
slip dreams as quick as clouds away
still what is formed and whole will stay
home safely fall to lasting old
up all over meander clamber roar
coos sweet and single solitary one
sings first and old and only always-song
god’s father’s mother’s lonely troubador
question: gasp why rasp what gash of soul
take courses: bedmate One-Oh-One
nor do not know what death has stole
nor where is Orpheus when he’s run
but golden glory-throat his hymn strums on!
Oh gorgeous god-gave end-beginning song!
Vito, 2009
Rilke’s Sonnet to Orpheus, Series I, #19
Change though the world may as fast
as cloud-collections,
home to the changeless at last
fall all perfections.
Over the thrust and the throng,
freer and higher,
echoes your preluding song,
god with the lyre.
Sorrow we misunderstand,
love we have yet to begin,
death and what’s hidden therein
await unveiling.
Song alone circles the land,
hallowing and hailing.
- J.B. Leishman, 1960
Though the world change swiftly
as the forms in clouds,
all perfected things fall back
to age-old ground.
Over what changes and passes,
wider and freer,
your deep song still hovers,
O god with the lyre.
Pain has not been understood,
love has not been learned,
and what in death removes us
remains undisclosed.
Alone over the land
song hallows and heals.
- Edward Snow, 2009
May time reshape worlds
like a wind molds foam,
love’s work does return
to the primordial home.
Beyond the parade of forms,
freer and higher,
your first song resounds,
God of the Lyre.
We can’t master our grief
nor the maze of romance,
nor see through the curtain
lowered by death.
What makes life sacred:
your song o’er the lands.
Vito, 2010, version 1
Though in the sculpting hands of life
like clouds in wind our time is clay
what once we fully form in love
will find its way to oldest ground.
Who sang the first, the only song?
Above the weather’s play of form
you hug the storm and fling it wide,
Orpheus maestro! Mystic troubador!
No map for us to detour grief,
no dummies’ guidebook, how to love,
and locked remains the gate of death,
bars us like iron from our kin.
Only far above you sing and sing
blessing the dying that we live.
Vito, 2010, version 2
let change go melt world, shift shape mold
slip dreams as quick as clouds away
still what is formed and whole will stay
home safely fall to lasting old
up all over meander clamber roar
coos sweet and single solitary one
sings first and old and only always-song
god’s father’s mother’s lonely troubador
question: gasp why rasp what gash of soul
take courses: bedmate One-Oh-One
nor do not know what death has stole
nor where is Orpheus when he’s run
but golden glory-throat his hymn strums on!
Oh gorgeous god-gave end-beginning song!
Vito, 2009