Some quickie short poems I translated. Love poems, but not necessarily happy love poems.
NAMAARIE A'MELA
Eller il-na seere, ikotane lava lye miqula ar' wanya;
Farewell to Love by Michael Drayton
Since there's not help, come let us kiss and part;
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LLE CARTELORN VANIMA
Lote taine a' amin;
San' amin aute a' amin Cartelorn vanima:
My Pretty Rose Tree, by William Blake
A flower was offered to me:
Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree:
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NU I' ASCA ITHIL
Nu i' asca ithil,
Nu laire cornelie
Under the Harvest Moon, by; Carl Sandburg
Under the harvest moon,
Under the summer roses
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MANKOI NAA CORNEL IKOTANE WINDE
Aiya Melamin, saesa nyara amin mankoi
Ar' mankoi i' lindor naa, e' i' loomi,
Ar' mankoi i' anor deno' i' laure
Ar' mankoi naa ta tanya amin, amin,
Why Is The Rose So Pale, by Heinrich Heine
Oh Dearest, canst thou tell me why
And why the Lark should, in the cloud,
And why the Sun upon the mead
And why is it that I, myself,
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The language and poem are not copyright Shiloh, but the long time spent translating it sure is.
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by; Michael Drayton
N'uma, amin naa tela, lle tura n'uma ner il' amin;
Ar' amin valina, uma, valina yassen ilya amin corm,
Tanya amin leitha amin ikotane poika;
Kwara camor ten' oio, tela ilya lye vestae,
Ar' iire lye omenta ie' ai' coiasira au'
Na' ta elee il' e' lle ri' amin tirne
Tanya lye tessa er tikse en' mela
Sii', ie' i'tella en' tella suulamela,
Iire ho hoon naa yela, mela lirilla avaene bethae,
Iire Tel'dur naa kawa ed' ho rath en' gurtha,
Ar' poika naa dinaa ho eleeie
Sii', manka lle umaya, iire ilya ona ho vanwa,
Tuulo' durtha a' coia lle aa' ho yela
Nay, I am done, you get no more of me;
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free;
Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we, one jot of former love retain.
Now, at the last gasp of love's latest breath,
When his pulse failing, passion speechless lies,
When faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And innocence is closing up his eyes,
Now, if thou woulds't, when all have given him over,
From death to life Thou might'st him yet recover.
By; William Blake
Lote ve' tanya Lotesse uumeone
Nan' amin quene, "Amin caela Cartelorn vanima",
Ar' amin waane lisse' lote vanwa.
A' malie ten' he re ar' dome.
Nan' amin Cartel querne tuulo' amin yassen ksh'mern
Ar' he eregae nae amin ere' alasse'
Such a flower as May never bore.
But I said "I've a Pretty Rose-tree",
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
To tend her by day and by night.
But my Rose turn'd away with jealousy:
And her thorns were my only delight.
by; Carl Sandburg
Iire i' maksa celeb
Lipta mirilya
Vanwa lotemen' domer,
Gurtha, i' mith yaiwa,
Tula ar' lussa a' lle
Vee' mellon vanima
Ya rina.
Iire i' verya agaru
Nurta e' i' moth
En' i' lasseie merka carad,
Mela, yassen aiwe camae,
Tula ar' ona lle
Yassen er luume'ie er rinaae
Ar' quena lle
Uu'sinta'nanquena vanima.
When the soft silver
Drips shimmering
Over garden nights,
Death, the gray mocker,
Comes and whispers to you
As a beautiful friend
Who remembers.
When the flagrant crimson
Lurks in the dusk
Of the wild red leaves,
Love, with little hands,
Comes and touches you
With a thousand memories,
And asks you
Beautiful, unanswerable questions.
by Heinrich Heine
I' cornel naa ikotane winde?
Ar' mankoi i' lui helin
Naa hesta e' i' nal?
Linda ikotane nwalma?
Ar' mankoi tuulo' lokte vanima
I' fira en' gurtha tula?
Naa Nalla ikotane ringwe?
Ar' mankoi i' kemen naa, ve' sapsa,
Naa rusta ar' baru?
Naa ikotane nwayla?
Ar' mankoi nass ta, corm en cormamin,
Tanya lle lola amin?
The Rose should be so pale?
And why the azure Violet
Should wither in the vale?
So sorrowfully sing?
And why from loveliest balsam-buds
A scent of death should spring?
So chillingly should frown?
And why the Earth should, like a grave,
Be mouldering and brown?
So languishing should be?
And why is it, my Heart-of-Hearts,
That thou forsakest me?
