I've published this on the blog once before, and it's also available in my book Orden och evigheten ("Words and Eternity"), but I thought I'd put it out there once more. The Swedish poem "Omkring tiggarn från Luossa" by Dan Andersson is one of the most hauntingly beautiful texts known to me, and I've noticed my English translation going down well with many people - so here it is again (if you want to use it on the internet, please add "Copyright Ola Wikander" and mention that it has been published in Orden och evigheten):
Round the beggar from Luossa people gathered in a ring,
by the campfire they sat and heard his song.
And of wayfarers and mendicants and every wondrous thing
and of his longing he sang to them all night long.
“There is something beyond mountains, beyond flowers, beyond singing,
there is something there behind the star, behind my burning heart.
Hearken, something goes there whispering, goes there calling me and praying
‘come to us, for of this earthly kingdom you are not a part.’
I have listened to the tranquil waves that roll against the beach,
to dream of wild seas’ rest has been my lot.
And in spirit I have hastened towards the formless lands
where the dearest thing we knew shall be forgot.
To a wild, eternal longing we were born by pallid mothers,
from the labour pains of troubles rose our first and anguished cry.
We were thrown on plains and mountains then, to play with all our brothers,
and we played there elk and lion, beggar, god and butterfly.
I sat silent by her side, she whose heart was like to mine,
with hands so soft she tended to our nest.
But I heard my heart then calling: ‘what thou ownest is not thine’
and the spirit came and bore me off to rest.
What I love is far away beyond, concealed in distant darkness,
and high and wonderful is my true way.
And amid this clamour I am called to pray before the Heavens:
What no-one has I want to own, take all the earth away!
Follow, brother, beyond mountains, to the cool and peaceful rivers,
where in beds of mountain garlands all sea slowly goes to sleep.
Somewhere there beyond the heavens is my home, I have my mother,
in the golden-sprinkled mists, dressed in rosy mantle deep.
May the black and salty waters cool the cheeks that burn with fever,
let’s be miles away from life before the morning breaks above!
Not of this world was I, brother; hardships without end I suffered
for the sake of worries, faithlessness and of my burning love.
By a shore all dressed in seashells stands a gate of roses heavy,
therein sleep the mouldered shipwrecks, and the tired men find rest.
Songs unheard and high there sing like violins in distant echoes
under arches where eternal children live forever blessed.
Visar inlägg med etikett Dan Andersson. Visa alla inlägg
Visar inlägg med etikett Dan Andersson. Visa alla inlägg
torsdag 18 augusti 2016
söndag 8 augusti 2010
Tiggarnytt
Det gör mig mycket glad att min engelska översättning av Dan Anderssons "Omkring tiggarn från Luossa" röner uppskattning - den är verkligen ett kärleksarbete. Se här! Och ja, en insjungning kommer vad det lider.
söndag 13 juli 2008
Omkring tiggarn från Luossa ... in English
Jag noterade att någon kommit till denna blogg efter att ha sökt på "Omkring tiggarn från Luossa engelsk översättning". Här fanns ingen sådan översättning, men jag älskar Dan Anderssons dikt djupt och kom att tänka på att jag ju faktiskt en gång gjorde en engelsk version av den för mitt eget höga nöjes skull - med versmått och allt. Alltså lägger jag ut den (vem vet, den som sökte kanske kommer tillbaka?)
Här är den alltså, for what it's worth. Om någon använder den till något kan ni väl skriva ut "copyright Ola Wikander"?
Round the beggar from Luossa people gathered in a ring,
by the campfire they sat and heard his song.
And of wayfarers and mendicants and every wondrous thing
and of his longing he sang to them all night long.
“There is something beyond mountains, beyond flowers, beyond singing,
there is something there behind the star, behind my burning heart.
Hearken, something goes there whispering, goes there calling me and praying
‘come to us, for of this earthly kingdom you are not a part.’
I have listened to the tranquil waves that roll against the beach,
to dream of wild seas’ rest has been my lot.
And in spirit I have hastened towards the formless lands
where the dearest thing we knew shall be forgot.
To a wild, eternal longing we were born by pallid mothers,
from the labour pains of troubles rose our first and anguished cry.
We were thrown on plains and mountains then, to play with all our brothers,
and we played there elk and lion, beggar, god and butterfly.
I sat silent by her side, she whose heart was like to mine,
with hands so soft she tended to our nest.
But I heard my heart then calling: ‘what thou ownest is not thine’
and the spirit came and bore me off to rest.
What I love is far away beyond, concealed in distant darkness,
and high and wonderful is my true way.
And amid this clamour I am called to pray before the Heavens:
What no-one has I want to own, take all the earth away!
Follow, brother, beyond mountains, to the cool and peaceful rivers,
where in beds of mountain garlands all sea slowly goes to sleep.
Somewhere there beyond the heavens is my home, I have my mother,
in the golden-sprinkled mists, dressed in rosy mantle deep.
May the black and salty waters cool the cheeks that burn with fever,
let’s be miles away from life before the morning breaks above!
Not of this world was I, brother; hardships without end I suffered
for the sake of worries, faithlessness and of my burning love.
By a shore all dressed in seashells stands a gate of roses heavy,
therein sleep the mouldered shipwrecks, and the tired men find rest.
Songs unheard and high there sing like violins in distant echoes
under arches where eternal children live forever blessed.
Uppdatering:
Jag hittade en annan engelsk översättning på nätet, här. En lustig skillnad mellan den och min är att den tolkar "och jag fördes bort av anden att få ro" som And the wild duck flew me to gain peace and rest. Jag vill snarare tro Dan Andersson var ute efter en "ande" än en "and", men vad vet jag...
Här är den alltså, for what it's worth. Om någon använder den till något kan ni väl skriva ut "copyright Ola Wikander"?
Round the beggar from Luossa people gathered in a ring,
by the campfire they sat and heard his song.
And of wayfarers and mendicants and every wondrous thing
and of his longing he sang to them all night long.
“There is something beyond mountains, beyond flowers, beyond singing,
there is something there behind the star, behind my burning heart.
Hearken, something goes there whispering, goes there calling me and praying
‘come to us, for of this earthly kingdom you are not a part.’
I have listened to the tranquil waves that roll against the beach,
to dream of wild seas’ rest has been my lot.
And in spirit I have hastened towards the formless lands
where the dearest thing we knew shall be forgot.
To a wild, eternal longing we were born by pallid mothers,
from the labour pains of troubles rose our first and anguished cry.
We were thrown on plains and mountains then, to play with all our brothers,
and we played there elk and lion, beggar, god and butterfly.
I sat silent by her side, she whose heart was like to mine,
with hands so soft she tended to our nest.
But I heard my heart then calling: ‘what thou ownest is not thine’
and the spirit came and bore me off to rest.
What I love is far away beyond, concealed in distant darkness,
and high and wonderful is my true way.
And amid this clamour I am called to pray before the Heavens:
What no-one has I want to own, take all the earth away!
Follow, brother, beyond mountains, to the cool and peaceful rivers,
where in beds of mountain garlands all sea slowly goes to sleep.
Somewhere there beyond the heavens is my home, I have my mother,
in the golden-sprinkled mists, dressed in rosy mantle deep.
May the black and salty waters cool the cheeks that burn with fever,
let’s be miles away from life before the morning breaks above!
Not of this world was I, brother; hardships without end I suffered
for the sake of worries, faithlessness and of my burning love.
By a shore all dressed in seashells stands a gate of roses heavy,
therein sleep the mouldered shipwrecks, and the tired men find rest.
Songs unheard and high there sing like violins in distant echoes
under arches where eternal children live forever blessed.
Uppdatering:
Jag hittade en annan engelsk översättning på nätet, här. En lustig skillnad mellan den och min är att den tolkar "och jag fördes bort av anden att få ro" som And the wild duck flew me to gain peace and rest. Jag vill snarare tro Dan Andersson var ute efter en "ande" än en "and", men vad vet jag...
söndag 6 juli 2008
Tiggarens vokaler
Jag kan inte låta bli att tycka att det svenska ö-ljudet inte är det mest vackra och sångbara av fonem - det låter så brunaktigt på något sätt (jag är inbiten synestet vad vokaler gäller). Alltså tycker jag också att det är mycket svårt att göra vacker poesi av vokalen ö. Riktigt roligt är då när någon lyckas - i detta fall en av mina absoluta favoritpoeter, Dan Andersson. Man kan inte låta bli att bli imponerad av strofer som:
"Aldrig hörda höga sånger
likt fiolers ekon sjunga
under valv där evigt unga
barn av saligheten bo."
Denna sista strof i den underbara "Omkring tiggarn från Luossa" lyckas verkligen med konststycket att göra ö-n vackra: "Aldrig hörda höga sånger". Man blir alldeles tårögd...
"Aldrig hörda höga sånger
likt fiolers ekon sjunga
under valv där evigt unga
barn av saligheten bo."
Denna sista strof i den underbara "Omkring tiggarn från Luossa" lyckas verkligen med konststycket att göra ö-n vackra: "Aldrig hörda höga sånger". Man blir alldeles tårögd...
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