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Michel Galiana, 2 lipca 2015
Peniun (Breaking off)
I: in Motreff
1. The young man declared one day
As his house he was leaving
- I will go round to Motreff,
It will be entertaining:
For I am going on my way
To pass where Sweetheart should stay.
My heart pounds and my thoughts stray
At her silver glances! (twice)
2. - Good day, good day, my sweetheart
Good day to you I'm saying
I have seen your door afar,
That I cannot help cheering.
- Sir, you carry along with you,
Loads of compliments, you do!
Pretty speech is a thing to
Which I never object! (twice)
3. - When I was staying at home
I did visit you daily.
More faithful than I was none
But you would make fun of me.
I was as faithful to you as
Is the nightingale that has
Its perch on the branch of haw-
Thorn and sings its ditty. (twice)
4. - Chaffinch, and nightingale
Are birds that stay most freely
Amongst the leaves of mount and dale,
Each of them a homebody,
But if you care to have a look
At all the birds in a book,
No one as seriously took,
As the dove, loyalty. (twice)
5. For no one is half as faith-
ful, as the turtledove is
Who, when of its mate bereft,
At short notice deceases.
- O, this is the way I would fare
Most certainly in despair,
Should once my sweetheart so fair
Break my heart to pieces (twice)
6. - How could it be, say, young man
That with me you were angry?
Would you not come to Melan,
To Melan to be with me?
- To Melan, for sure, I would go,
But not to tell you "hello!"
Since, my lass, so far I know,
We shall never marry. (twice)
7. - What grounds, tell me, have you got
For such foolish assumption?
No reason why you should not
Come and see me in Melan.
- I'll go to Melan, certainly
But I shall return quickly
You may choose anybody
To be your companion. - (twice)
II: in Caraix
8. 'T was on Nativity day
Of the Virgin Saint Mary;
To the Pardon on my way
I saw her quite abruptly,
I edged my way to her side
I had no reason to hide,
And whatever might betide,
We were to speak frankly. (twice)
9. - What a surprise, our young man
Made up his mind to see me!
That you did bother to come
About that I'm uneasy:
Because I am not allowed to
Marry this year, so that you,
In case you had come to woo
Should give up the idea. (twice)
10. - Why should I give up an i-
dea that's but your own notion;
Chains of love that used to tie
My heart to yours are broken.
That's why I have come back again
For a walk in your domain:
Just a lily shall remain
There, and it's you, maiden! -(twice)
11. First time when I said "adieu"
To a lass, was in Carhaix.
Down her cheeks tiny tears flew,
Lost joy in darkest array,
The time for parting had come now,
For regret did not allow.
Which the lass refused to know
Before I flew away.
Translated from the Breton
Michel Galiana, 1 lipca 2015
Karantez (Love)
The young man
1. I chose a charming lover,
And she was my next neighbour,
How fine!
I had decided to go and visit her
In the night!
She was asleep, as I came: a dreadful plight! -
The girl
2. - At my door who is knocking?
There is no such awful thing
As noise!
Resting at night is a thing a girl enjoys! -
The young man
3. - "Your wooer and your suitor,
Your most passionate lover,
Is here
Who wants to be by your side tonight, my dear."
(Then, ashamed of his own words:)
4. Quickly, off I have taken
My cap. Inside an oven
I've hid.
Did she see me? I doubt that she could know me
If she did:
This her great amount of suitors should forbid!
5. Off I ran to the river
The path was altogether
Narrow,
Further downward was a bridge that was awkward,
And so low!
Heels over head I fell! The place was shallow.
6. A nightingale that gazed
At me, and had a blaze
On its brow!
Many a word it said, but the saucy bird
On the bough,
It did not help me, but it scoffed at me now! -
The nightingale
7. - A girl under a bed sheet
That you fondle is great treat,
It's true!
Flirting with eels in the brook is great fun too!
8. Should come round Willie the wolf,
Whom would he care to engulf,
But you?
Not a rest cure, to go wenching or to woo! -
The young man
9. - The stars that high up twinkle
They wait for your chant, fickle
Fellow!
Pay court to them, leave me alone here below! -
The nightingale
10. - Unfortunate bird, never
Did I harm whomsoever ,
In life,
Nor shall I do! Don't tell me your tale of woe!
11. You'll spend a good night, I'm sure!
To meet you was a pleasure,
For me!
I am like a fisher woman who prays the
Rosary
When fishing, always on the alert to be. -
Translated from the Breton
Michel Galiana, 7 stycznia 2015
Quelvénic Grove
1. - As I did rove Quelvénic Grove
My toil was well rewarded:
I saw a doe wearing a blue
Cover that two stags guarded.
Both of them clerks, I dare remark.
Get up, Lord, you must withstand!
Hunt them at least, none of these beasts
Should desecrate your woodland! -
2. The three poor beasts, as noise increased
Fled the grove early that day,
Took up abode near the highroad,
Till a baker came that way.
- Give us some bread. It will be paid.
For this young girl is hungry.
She followed us. 'Twas perilous
To leave her room, most surely.
3. No one allows that she follows
Her own heart. She escaped.
Her kith and kin will call it sin
That her own life she shaped.
And, the poor thing, she may now sing,
Tonight she will cry sadly;
When tears are shed and all is said,
She'll die tomorrow, early. -
Translated from the Breton
Michel Galiana, 9 sierpnia 2014
Passing-by women
1. To all the women that you love
For a while - they don't know thereof -
This ditty is a tribute paid;
To passers-by you hardly know
Whom the whims of destiny draw
Along streams you shall never wade.
2. To the girl at the window pane
Who peeps and disappears again,
A lovable but fleeting sight
Of a graceful and slim body
Outlined surreptitiously
That makes you feel gay and look bright.
3. To the fair fellow traveller
Whose bright eyes, a charming picture,
Will make time go by and clock stand
You did understand her, maybe,
And yet you let her go freely
And did not even touch her hand.
4. To the woman in wedding bonds
With one who by no way responds
To her hopes and expectation;
And she gave, a useless nonsense,
To her despair shy utterance
And hinted at her frustration.
5. Ye, endearing glimpses caught,
Short-lived hopes with forgetting fraught,
You shall not survive tomorrow!
If only happiness occurs,
It wipes out or at least it blurs
The transient spells of sorrow.
6. But if you have wasted your life
You think, at the end of the strife,
Of happiness that grows and dies;
Of the kisses you durst not claim,
Of the hearts somewhere still aflame,
Of the never forgotten eyes.
7. And in evenings of weariness
You fill up your lonely recess
With phantoms from your memories,
And you bemoan the absent lips
Of those passers-by on their trips
You failed to stop. These fair fairies!
(Translated from the French poem by Antoine Pol)
Michel Galiana, 25 marca 2014
His Lordship and Her Ladyship
1. His Lordship and her Ladyship were both
Very young when they took a wedding oath.
2. She was twelve and he was only thirteen.
Soon a baby boy appeared on the scene.
3. And he was as fair as the rising sun
His beauty could be compared to none.
4. His Lordship the Count asked on that day
The Countess his wife, when in bed she lay:
5. "O Countess, my wife, tell me what I should
Hunt, what kind of game in the nearby wood?"
6. "I'd prefer, by far, some fowl meat to eat.
Partridge flesh is rare of late, such a treat!"
7. His Lordship the Count, on hearing her speech,
Shouldered his gun which he kept within reach.
8. When he had come to the mid of the grove
Whom should he encounter but a white dove.
9. "Lord, I am so pleased to wish you good day;
Was waiting long for you to come my way.
10. Now the hour has rung, did you hear it ring?,
The hour has rung when you must be dying.
11. Now, do you prefer rapidly to die
Or seven long years sick in bed to lie?"
12. "I'd rather, for sure, decede speedily
Than seven years lie in bed languidly."
13. "Your Lordship the Count, now back home you go
And have them make you the best bed they know,
14. Have them make your bed quickly. You know why:
Or you would risk being sick before you die."
15. "O my mother dear, if you love your son
Please order that my bed quickly be done.
16. Have my bed be made and made rapidly
Before I should die of a malady."
17. "O please tell the Lady Countess, my wife
That her Count has left for an armed strife,
18. That he left to fight out on the frontier
And that he will be back home in a year."
19. "O tell me what happened here overnight
That all in this house with dismay did smite?"
20. "An old beggar man who asked for food
Whom from dying here we could not preclude."
21. "My mother I beg you to keep my keys
Let me have my best bed sheets, if you please.
22. Let me have my best bed sheets. All but one
For my husband, when he comes, it was spun."
23. "My daughter, you should put on your black dress
We are leaving to Mur town to hear Mass."
24. "Mother tell me the truth. No lie or sham!
Why must I be clad in black, as I am?
25. "Did it come in current use to impose
On girls to be sent to church in black clothes?"
26. When they came to Mur where mass would be sung,
The church was all over with black veils hung.
27. "O Mother tell me, no pretence or lie,
The church is hung with black veils, tell me why!"
28. "O Countess, my daughter I do not know.
The bell ringer might have heard of it, though."
29. "O bell ringer tell me the truth,. Don't lie
The church is hung with black veils, tell me why!"
30. "Your ladyship, I do not know, for sure
But the curate could an answer procure."
31. "O Reverend father, tell me no lie,
The church is hung with black veils, tell me why!"
32. "Your Ladyship, for sure , I do not know.
The parson himself could answer it, though."
33. "O Reverend father, tell me no lie,
The church is hung with black veils, tell me why!"
34. "Countess, it's a thing I cannot deny,
The Count, your husband on the trestles lie"
35. "My mother I beg you to keep my keys
You may dispose of my goods as you please.
36. I have brought into the world a fair son
And he is as fair as the rising sun,
37. O he is as the rising sun as fair
And his beauty is, aye, beyond compare.
38. You shall for his education provide.
Let the Christian Faith in life be his guide.
39. If ever his wealth should happen to wane
Let him serve the king and defend his reign.
40. In my husband's grave now I shall be laid
As both of us have slept in the same bed."
Translated from a Breton song
Michel Galiana, 6 września 2013
An unhappy young man
1. An unhappy young man, forsaken and alone
Was by his parents' death left to live on his own;
Now, since he was so young, go begging could he dare?
Compassionate folks came and of him they took care.
2. A man in these parts heard of his destitution.
Hastened to make the best of the situation.
"That you work on my estate is what I propose;"
The young man said "I can't. I have no working clothes"
3. "To be sure, I would be able to drive a plough,
But I am so poor that I have no spade or hoe"
And the four crowns they cost I never could afford.
Lend them to me, I shall pay you back, on my word."
4. The farmer hired him on a very long term;
A farmhand he had found, reliable and firm.
Yet one day the lad failed to report to his boss,
Leaving the latter to ponder over his loss.
5. Sometime later he was, upon a handful straw,
Found dead in the far slum where he used to withdraw.
His employer, alas, whose heart was hard as stone
When the corpse was removed from there was heard to moan:
6. "To heaven he shan't go as long as I'm not paid,
For he owes me four crowns I have lent him ahead."
And barely three days after, a young lad required
Employment in this very farm and he was hired.
7. Upon the fields he worked as hard as the best three.
But when lunch time was rung the young lad used to flee.
The others wondered and did their best to retain
Him, asking him to eat and drink with them. In vain.
8. He stayed out of the way, as if he was in pain,
Threw himself on his knees, as in wait of being slain.
And the cruel-hearted man, with disapproving frown,
Went and asked for advice the parson of the town.
9. "Over there is a man, as hard as three working,
But curiously enough, with neither food nor drink."
"Sir, you may return home, don't tell them that you came.
I shall call tomorrow. The hour will be the same."
10. Overnight the divine was informed by God's grace,
That it was a dead soul who was haunting the place.
"What are you looking for? Say, what is your demand?
- Four crowns I owe this man, I received from his hand."
11. "The master of this farm lent me once those four crowns:
To pay them back in work now I have been sent down.
And I won't be admitted to heaven's delight
As long as my angel did not tell me I might."
12. When the reverend priest came the four crowns to pay,
The heartless man was punished in a dreadful way:
When to seize the money he had proffered his hand,
His whole right arm from the shoulder fell to the ground!
13. "In Heaven, both of us will meet again, parson,
Of which I was made worthy by your compassion.
The farmer you did pay and all is in good trim.
Instead of casting blame, let's pray to God for him!"
Translated from the Breton (original title:"Un den yaouank, siwazh!")
Michel Galiana, 9 września 2012
Kenavo d'ar yaouankiz
Early that Sunday I rose, had my repast for the day (twice)
had my repast for the day,
And to my yard I went
Oié tra la la la dira la dira
And to my yard I went
There among its bowers to stray.
A nightingale I heard. In the bush she sang an air.
Her sweet chant caused my heart to lie full lowly in its lair.
- O, young man, young man, tell me, Say, is your mind in pain?
Neither my mind, nor my soul! Neither of them is in pain!
But woe is me for my youth
Oié tra la la la dira la dira
But woe is me for my youth
And all my time spent in vain.
For youth is like a rose, best thing in this lesser world
Old age is sure to cause the fair rose soon to wilt.
Youth, akin to the rose, you'll never last for long!
Once your grace is disclosed, with the wind it is gone along!
When a proud bachelor I was, happy, lucky, free of care,
The money in my pocket, never would stay for long there.
But woe betide me when I made up my mind to wed!
My youth would not endure it, soon away from me it fled.
Farewell my youth that by pleasure-seeking was always led!
If like a wren I had wings, if I had wings like a wren,
I would chase after it, soon it would be back to my den.
- A nightingale if you were, that's a thing I can teach,
Never would you capture it, it's far and out of your reach!
(Translation of a Breton song titled "Farewell to youth")
Michel Galiana, 20 lipca 2012
REMED AN AMOUROUS KLAÑV
It's not good, so wise people say
To let nature sway her own way;
It is wise to control nature:
Be not tender beyond measure!
No rain ever that did not cease,
No wind that time did not appease;
Tenderness may unite two fools:
As time goes by, tenderness cools.
And yet a handful of fondness,
Is more worth than wealth, quite doubtless!
While fondness brings your heart comfort,
Riches have double-edged import.
My girl's beauty I highly prize:
With her pink cheeks, with her blue eyes,
With her mouth fair beyond compare,
About her, aye, she has an air!
Her eyes illuminate her face,
They are limpid and full of grace,
Her brow, a half-moon as it were...
With all my heart I do love her.
Like nutmeg is her darling heart:
The highest delight, for my part;
Nutmeg is a treat of fragrance.
Love holds the pain in abeyance.
If I lie sick upon my bed,
Let come my sweetheart near my head,
Is health not restored presently?
No use of any remedy!
Whenever she passes my door,
These four things bother me no more:
World-weariness, despondency,
Aching pain and melancholy.
(Translated from the Breton)
Michel Galiana, 11 czerwca 2012
Young Widow
THE YOUNG MAN
- O listen my darling widow!
It's about time for you to know
What you should leave, what you should do.
So I came to your house to woo.
THE WIDOW
- This year I don't think of marrying
Nor shall I come out of mourning.
I'll enter a convent instead
To God that's the promise I made.
THE YOUNG MAN
- To a convent why should you go?
My town is the place for you, though.
It's the rose's and fine herbs' doom
That in the garden they should bloom.
.
THE WIDOW
- The roses may thrive in a yard
The yew trees prefer the churchyard.
The Husband Whom I have chosen
Has created Earth and Heaven.
THE YOUNG MAN
- Take, that silver ring, fair widow!
And your hand upon me bestow!
Put it right now on your finger.
I'll do it if you like better.
THE WIDOW
- There is no ring, whatsoever,
That I would put on my finger
Except the ring that God bestows
On whoever will take their vows.
THE YOUNG MAN
- Then you have decided that I,
Without further delay, should die!
THE WIDOW
- Young man, I shall make good to you
For the time you have spent to woo;
For the time you wasted in vain
Hoping a wedding ring to gain:
I shall pray to God, day and night
He might us in Heaven unite. -
Translated from the Breton
***********************************
LA JEUNE VEUVE
LE JEUNE HOMME
- Ma douce veuve, cher amour
Je suis venu faire ma cour;
Car, voyez-vous, il est grand temps
De prendre un parti maintenant.
LA VEUVE
- Me marier cette année? Jamais!
Jamais mon deuil ne quitterai.
Sachez que je vais au couvent.
C'est là que le bon Dieu m'attend...
LE JEUNE HOMME
- Vous n'irez point dans ce couvent
Mais dans mon village, vraiment.
La rose, le lis, le jasmin
Sont faits pour orner les jardins.
LA VEUVE
- Si la rose au jardin prospère
L'if ne se plait qu'au cimetière.
Le seul époux cher à mon cœur
N'est autre que mon créateur.
LE JEUNE HOMME
- Recevez, ma douce, en présent,
Recevez cet anneau d'argent!
Passez-le donc à votre doigt.
Ou me faut-il le passer, moi?
LA VEUVE
- Jamais d'anneau je ne prendrai
Ni d'alliance ne passerai
Si ce n'est l'anneau d'or que Dieu;
Donne à qui prononce ses vœux.
LE JEUNE HOMME
- C'est donc ma mort que vous voulez,
Me voir sans retard expirer!
LA VEUVE
- Je compenserai, c'est certain,
Ce temps que vous perdez en soins
Pour moi. Tous ces espoirs futiles,
Cet anneau de noce inutile.
Et je prierai Dieu, jour et nuit,
Qu'il nous unisse au paradis.
Traduit du breton
Michel Galiana, 11 kwietnia 2012
Little Louise
I wear holes in my stockings
And I wore out my clogs,
And I wore out my clogs,
Since I started a-wooing,
Gay gay gay fonladondennig
Since I started a-wooing,
Chasing Lou through meads and bogs.
Everyone begs her graces
When Louise to church walks
In her dress trimmed with laces,
About her are all the talks.
In her dress trimmed with laces,
With roses in her hair,
The lads give backward glances,
Every lass an angry glare.
As she goes by, the lasses
To one another tell:
"I guess, no one surpasses
Her in beauty: she's the belle."
All the town dwellers whisper
In one another's ear:
"You're in fashion and proper
Now if you wear jet-black gear."
"I'm unaware of fashion
And I do not speak French.
A noble who hears Breton,
Will keep as dumb as a tench.
Now, to speak French, if needed,
I'll have a little maid
And if I get confused
I shall summon her for aid.
She shall dress and undress me
Help me off with my shoes
And to bed she shall see me
Where I'll sleep with whom I'll choose."
Neither rain, nor hail ever,
Nor the snow on the ground,
Should discourage a lover
Once a soul mate he has found.
Translated from the Breton
Ostatnie komentarze:
2 listopada 2024
sam53
przy pogodnym niebie szukamy spadających gwiazd...pozdrawiam
2 listopada 2024
Eva T.
Fajne, mroczne nutki.
2 listopada 2024
Daleko i nie wpuszczaja tam bez specjalnego pozwolenia
2 listopada 2024
Ano :) Pozdrawiam, Jago :)
2 listopada 2024
:)
2 listopada 2024
Jaga
Poczekałam aż pszczółka uśmiechu ustawiła
2 listopada 2024
Tylko słońce i kolory jesieni :) Dziękuję
2 listopada 2024
Słońce zrobiło dobra robotę ;) Dziękuję
2 listopada 2024
Nienawiść niszczy życie...
1 listopada 2024
violetta
Na kruszy się:)
1 listopada 2024
Jak obraz :)
1 listopada 2024
Ja tak lubię:) stare płyty od mamy:)
2 listopada 2024
Marek Gajowniczek
2 listopada 2024
wiesiek
2 listopada 2024
Eva T.
2 listopada 2024
Marek Gajowniczek
2 listopada 2024
sam53
1 listopada 2024
Arsis
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Trepifajksel
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Colett
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Colett
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Eva T.