Photo from Mount Royal, Frisco, Colorado.

"That is happiness; to be disolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep." - Willa Cather

Wednesday, 7 July 2010

Young Girl From Budapest

I spend quite a bit of time entering data into a database these days. I frequently need breaks so today I translated one of my favorite French poems into English and Danish. I'm not sure if it's been translated before and didn't take the time to look.

I promise I'll write something that is actually interesting in the near future. Whoah, that was a big promise. I should mention I just signed up for Voyageur today (SR is still contemplating) and my hip is doing well enough that I can finally run intervals tomorrow! (I put an exclamation mark because I am trying to get myself excited)

Anyway, here's the poem:

La jeune fille de Budapest
D’Henri Michaux

Dans la brume tiède d'une haleine de jeune fille, j'ai pris place
Je me suis retiré, je n'ai pas quitté ma place.
Ses bras ne pèsent rien. On les rencontre comme l'eau.
Ce qui est fané disparaît devant elle. Il ne reste que ses yeux.
Longues belles herbes, longues belles fleurs croissaient dans notre champ.
Obstacle si léger sur ma poitrine, comme tu t'appuies maintenant.
Tu t'appuies tellement, maintenant que tu n'es

The Young Girl From Budapest
By Henri Michaux
Translation by Sea Legs Girl

In the mild fog of breath of a young girl, I find myself
I am lying back, I haven’t left.
Her arms weigh nothing. You meet them like water.
That which has wilted disappears before her. There is nothing left but her eyes.
Long, beautiful grasses, long beautiful flowers growing in our field.
Such a light obstacle on my chest, which you lay on me now.
You weigh so much, now that you are gone.

Den unge pige fra Budapest
Af Henri Michaux
Oversættelse af Sea Legs Girl

I den milde tåge af ånde fra en ung pige, tager jeg plads.
Jeg læner mig tilbage, jeg tager ikke af sted.
Hendes arme vejer ikke noget. Man møder dem som vandet.
Det, som er vissent forsvinder foran hende. Der er kun hendes øjne tilbage.
Lange, flotte græsser, lange flotte blomster groer i vores mark.
Forhindring så let på mit bryst, som du ligger på mig nu.
Du vejer så meget, nu du er væk.

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