Kevät kultaa mielen,
päivän,
pilven pielen.
Maila Jyrinki
23/04/2020
13/04/2020
T.S. Eliot (1888-1965) Autio maa (1922)
Lauri Viljasen suomennoksesta alku
Huhtikuu on kuukausista julmin, se työntää
sireenejä kuolleesta maasta, sekoittaa
muiston ja pyyteen, kiihoittaa
uneliaita juuria kevätsateella.
Talvi piti meidät lämpiminä, kietomalla
maan lumeen ja unohdukseen, kätkemällä
elämän hivenen kuiviin juurikyhmyihin.
...
The Waste Land
By T. S. Eliot For Ezra Pound
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
“You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
“They called me the hyacinth girl.”
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Oed’ und leer das Meer.
...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JmH8Azjst38&t=97s /Huhtikuu on julmin kuukausi/ Joutomaa
Huhtikuu on kuukausista julmin, se työntää
sireenejä kuolleesta maasta, sekoittaa
muiston ja pyyteen, kiihoittaa
uneliaita juuria kevätsateella.
Talvi piti meidät lämpiminä, kietomalla
maan lumeen ja unohdukseen, kätkemällä
elämän hivenen kuiviin juurikyhmyihin.
...
The Waste Land
By T. S. Eliot For Ezra Pound
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
“You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
“They called me the hyacinth girl.”
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Oed’ und leer das Meer.
...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JmH8Azjst38&t=97s /Huhtikuu on julmin kuukausi/ Joutomaa
10/04/2020
Oli huhtikuun ilta
oli kuutamo.
Kevät kampasi hiuksiaan
vihreänvälkkyvällä kammallaan,
kuvaansa kuun peilistä katsellen.
Oli huhtikuun ilta
oli tähti kevään otsalla.
Kevät lauloi laulua
josta ei tiennyt
oliko se iloinen vai surullinen.
Oli hiljaista hiljaisempaa
ja kivet ja kummut
ja nuput puissa
kuuntelivat.
Rakkaani, rakkaani,
sinunko vuoksesi tähti otsallani,
sinunko vuoksesi hiuksani kampaan.
Arvo Turtiainen
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