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английски
Widma
Spectres
Flood from graves pale ghosts-
tormented victims wispy line-
and their glacier-ice claws
submerged in the heart of mine.
And rises eternal this
Furrowed Earth’s might -
the gales whistle, the gales grind,
it’s the spectres’ reckoning night.
Who be ye, pale kings,
who whisper in my heart?
Bombs wail, swish the bullets,
and only smoke fills the redoubt.
Like a soldier bloodied… begone!
The gallows creak and swing -
who will turn in my heart a sword,
To them my heart will sing the song.
And I knelt by the throne
And on the block laid down my head
Then crying a spectre shone:
'Were you, too, by love mislead?'
‘I’ll spill blood my own’, I spoke,
‘For this only sung heart’s song
For this only marvel from hands of God
For this heaven’s roaring storm - folk.’
Horrid laughter entangled me -
and I did my horse into canter haste,
and from under hooves dousing sin,
and on brass horn in tune - Rage.
And my horse into canter I’ll haste
Over the heads of living dead glide
On brass horn in tune - Rage
To ride into star-bleeding Night.
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Translation details
Svarozhyc
submitted on 23 февруари 2020 - 09:45
Give a shoutout to Svarozhyc
Коментар:
I'd written this one ages ago, just forgot to post it here. Mostly focused on the style and semantics rather than appropriate English form in terms of metering the lines.
For the translation I used the original text by Tadeusz Miciński, part of the 'In Twilight of Stars' collection
