Day 30: Translation

Today’s prompt was to try translating a poem, since this month’s theme on the official web site has been poets in translation. I tried to translate a poem from French, originally by Vinko Kalinic. The original poem will be posted underneath my translation.


“To a friend”

Hey, friend, let your hands grow

While they pass, silently, among the people,

While, tired at the dawn, they wake up

Every secret, all the heat of your nocturnal havens.

 

In the darkness of the nights, when my God descends on the earth,

When the stars start to tell their stories,

When ordinary things become magnificent,

I will think of you, as I think of a friend.

 

You must know that in this world you’re not alone,

Since each star possesses a piece of you,

Since the stars are there only to grant your wishes.

 

Believe me, my friend, I know very well things about life,

People seem like songs which are reborn

When their hands are suddenly touched by someone passing by.


“À un ami”

Hé l’ami, laisse tes mains grandir
Pendant qu’elles passent, silencieuses, parmi les gens,
Pendant que, fatiguées à l’aube, elles réveillent
Tous les secrets, toute la chaleur de tes havres nocturnes.

Dans l’obscurité des nuits, quand mon Dieu descend sur la Terre,
Quand les étoiles commencent à conter leurs fables,
Quand les choses ordinaires deviennent magnifiques,
Je penserai à toi, comme à un ami.

Tu dois savoir que dans ce monde tu n’es pas seul,
Puisque chaque étoile possède une parcelle de toi,
Puisque les étoiles sont là uniquement pour exhausser tes vœux.

Crois-moi, mon ami, je connais bien les choses de la vie,
Les gens ressemblent aux chansons qui renaissent
Quand leurs mains sont soudain touchées par quelqu’un qui passe près d’eux.

 

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Day 29: “I Remember”

Today the prompt was to write a poem in which every line begins with the phrase “I remember.” I didn’t quite do that (instead, each stanza begins with that phrase) but still like how this turned out.


I remember when I used to hide,

Not caring if my true self died

Beneath the weight of crushing shame.

 

I  remember wanting to throw away life,

Thinking that these days were rife

With sadness and all the same.

 

I remember when the mask slipped,

And slowly I became equipped

With tools I needed to survive.

 

I remember all of those days,

Of being trapped in a gloomy haze,

And I’m glad to be alive.

Day 28: The Journey

Today I responded to the prompt for yesterday, which was to write a poem made up of very long lines (about 17 syllables each). I wrote about how life can be arduous and disappointing yet tried to end with some hope.


It takes us an awful long time in life, to get where we want to go,

And sometimes we are left with less than absolutely nothing to show

For all of our concerted efforts and strong pains, through all of that no gains,

Except a somber sense of discouragement; but life is a journey,

And the difficulty comes from thinking it is meant to be easy.

Day 27

I wrote 6 poems today but don’t feel confident about any of them. Because I have to post one, I will. This poem borrows it’s first line from a different poem, by Robert Frost.


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

Reaching out winding wherever they could,

I started years ago on the path I’d chosen,

Wond’ring if the roads would cross again.

Whatever the case, my course is set,

The choice is not one I’ll regret.


Often I wonder how things might have turned out differently in my life if I had made other choices. However, I don’t really regret much in my life. Overall, I like how my life is now and respect my journey through this life.

Day 26

This poem was inspired by the flowers in my family’s garden. I went outside this morning and saw flowers that I hadn’t noticed before.


Today I saw spring flowers in the grass,

Tiny flowers dressed in hopeful hues,

Blues, purples, pinks, and yellows as I pass,

As the sun’s mild, kindly light ensues.

The cold, clean morning air becomes my breath,

As lungs begin again their steady pull,

In this sweet moment here there is no death,

This world is imperfect, beautiful.

NaPoWriMo day 25

Today’s prompt was to use a line from an existing poem to begin another one. I decided to use the opening line from yesterday’s sonnet as the starting point.


Each person here on Earth has a true name,

Which they seek to honestly reveal,

But the sting of past rejections’ pain,

Can sometimes take eternity to heal.

Despite the fear I’ll persevere

To speak, with poetry unfurled,

Writing my life boldly with Sharpie

On the white blank page of the world.

Day 24: Sonnet

Today I tried to write an Italian sonnet. It has 14 lines, 10 syllables per line, and is (supposed to be) written in iambic pentameter. I’m fairly happy with how this turned out, even though the rhythm might be a little off.


Each person here on Earth has a true name,

A name that’s given from the God of love,

A name of peace that comes down like a dove,

A passion which sets the sad soul aflame.

This name may not being fortune, fans, or fame,

But it gives grace to soar to heights above,

And hope to through this weary world move,

To glide through life with joy as in a game.

 

It’s buried in the deep behind the lie

That authenticity does not have worth,

These fears and lies, they must be bid goodbye

If life is to be filled with real mirth.

To find and speak one’s true name is the tie,

That brings the lonely to a true rebirth.