Sunday, May 24, 2009

OBSOLETE QUESTIONS: translations from Wordsworth


Obsolete Questions
translations from Wordsworth

1.

the bower was still
leafless oaks tower’d high above
there's no joyous, living thing, I said

Oh! grant me heaven a joyous, living thing.
Oh! grant me heaven a joyous, living thing.
Oh! grant me heaven a breeze

a breath of hail-stones
to stir my mind
to nourish and hop

this year you couldn’t put a hair between
jump and spring
there was no hair

each leaf a hart
in the shade disembower’d
Oh! grant me heaven a hair between

and air that’s never seen
all at once


2.


the sun is the heat
of a long time
scattered far from here

a weary journeyer
the repeat or patter of hail-stones
hills eaten from the hand

I feel trouble near the roadside
the freshness of the footpath

my eyes trudge when
they look into the distance

time passes through lips
night and day through lips

night ravens dance stiff
the sky black in boots

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