NEKAJ ČUDOVITIH PESMI / SOME WONDERFUL SONGS

© Duša, 2002; http://home.amis.net/mravlm

 

Oda radosti / Ode to Joy (An die Freude):

Friedrich Schiller, Ludwig van Beethoven

http://www.easytogrowbulbs.com/ProductImages/dahlias/DahliaDinnerplateMixed.jpg

Dalija / Dahlia ( Vir / Source: http://www.easytogrowbulbs.com/ProductImages/dahlias/DahliaDinnerplateMixed.jpg)

 

Freude, schöner Götterfunken,
Tochter aus Elysium,
Wir betreten feuer-trunken,

Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!

 

Deine Zauber binden wieder,

Was die Mode streng geteilt;
Alle Menschen werden Brüder,
Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt.

 

Wem der große Wurf gelungen,
Eines Freundes Freund zu sein,
Wer ein holdes Weib errungen,
Mische seinen Jubel ein!

 

Ja, wer auch nur eine Seele
Sein nennt auf dem Erdenrund!
Und wer's nie gekonnt, der stehle
Weinend sich aus diesem Bund!

 

Freude trinken alle Wesen
An den Brüsten der Natur;
Alle Guten, alle Bösen
Folgen ihrer Rosenspur.

 

Küsse gab sie uns und Reben,
Einen Freund, geprüft im Tod;
Wollust ward dem Wurm gegeben,
Und der Cherub steht vor Gott.

 

Froh, wie seine Sonnen fliegen
Durch des Himmels prächt'gen Plan,
Laufet, Brüder, eure Bahn,
Freudig, wie ein Held zum Siegen.

 

Freude, schöner Götterfunken,
Tochter aus Elysium,
Wir betreten feuer-trunken,
Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!

 

Deine Zauber binden wieder,
Was die Mode streng geteilt;
Alle Menschen werden Brüder,
Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt.

 

Seid umschlungen, Millionen!
Diesen Kuß der ganzen Welt!
Brüder! über'm Sternenzelt
Muß ein lieber Vater wohnen.

 

Ihr stürzt nieder, Millionen?
Ahnest du den Schöpfer, Welt?
Such ihn über'm Sternenzelt!
Über Sternen muß er wohnen.

Joy, fair spark of the gods,
Daughter of Elysium,
Drunk with fiery rapture, Goddess,
We approach thy shrine!

 

Thy magic reunites those
Whom stern custom has parted;
All men will become brothers
Under thy gentle wing.

 

May he who has had the fortune
To gain a true friend
And he who has won a noble wife
Join in our jubilation!

 

Yes, even if he calls but one soul
His own in all the world.
But he who has failed in this
Must steal away alone and in tears.

 

All the world's creatures
Draw joy from nature's breast;
Both the good and the evil
Follow her rose-strewn path.

 

She gave us kisses and wine
And a friend loyal unto death;
She gave lust for life to the lowliest,
And the Cherub stands before God.

 

Joyously, as his suns speed
Through Heaven's glorious order,
Hasten, Brothers, on your way,
Exulting as a knight in victory.

 

Joy, fair spark of the gods,
Daughter of Elysium,
Drunk with fiery rapture, Goddess,
We approach thy shrine!

 

Thy magic reunites those
Whom stern custom has parted;
All men will become brothers
Under thy gentle wing.

 

Be embraced, Millions!
Take this kiss for all the world!
Brothers, surely a loving Father
Dwells above the canopy of stars.

 

Do you sink before him, Millions?
World, do you sense your Creator?
Seek him then beyond the stars!
He must dwell beyond the stars.

Vir / Source: http://w3.rz-berlin.mpg.de/cmp/beethoven.html

 

Gaudeamus Igitur: vers. C. W. Kindeleben 1781, trans. R. Masciantonio

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/92/Calendula_officinalis4.jpg/800px-Calendula_officinalis4.jpg

Calendula (Vir / Source: http://images.google.si/imgres?imgurl=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3e/Hedera_hibernica_flower.jpg/800px-Hedera_hibernica_flower.jpg&imgrefurl=http://the-meaning-of-flowers.blogspot.com/2008/08/meaning-of-flowers-i.html&h=600&w=800&sz=118&hl=sl&start=20&um=1&usg=__fK6pvfwCpZ6I1qgZVGhVKzj76BY=&tbnid=dRFTc4TkCyaooM:&tbnh=107&tbnw=143&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dflower%2Bof%2Bwisdom%26um%3D1%26hl%3Dsl%26rls%3Dig)

 

Gaudeamus igitur
Juvenes dum sumus
Post jucundum juventutem
Post molestam senectutem
Nos habebit humus.

Let us rejoice therefore
While we are young.
After a pleasant youth
After a troublesome old age
The earth will have us.

Ubi sunt qui ante nos
In mundo fuere?
Vadite ad superos
Transite in inferos
Hos si vis videre.

Where are they
Who were in the world before us?
You may cross over to heaven
You may go to hell
If you wish to see them.

Vita nostra brevis est
Brevi finietur.
Venit mors velociter
Rapit nos atrociter
Nemini parcetur.

Our life is brief
It will be finished shortly.
Death comes quickly
Atrociously, it snatches us away.
No one is spared.

Vivat academia
Vivant professores
Vivat membrum quodlibet
Vivat membra quaelibet
Semper sint in flore.

Long live the academy!
Long live the teachers!
Long live each male student!
Long live each female student!
May they always flourish!

Vivant omnes virgines
Faciles, formosae.
Vivant et mulieres
Tenerae amabiles
Bonae laboriosae.

Long live all maidens
Easy and beautiful!
Long live mature women also,
Tender and loveable
And full of good labor.

Vivant et republica
et qui illam regit.
Vivat nostra civitas,
Maecenatum caritas
Quae nos hic protegit.

Long live the State
And the One who rules it!
Long live our City
And the charity of benefactors
Which protects us here!

Pereat tristitia,
Pereant osores.
Pereat diabolus,
Quivis antiburschius
Atque irrisores.

Let sadness perish!
Let haters perish!
Let the devil perish!
Let whoever is against our school
Who laughs at it, perish!

 

Vir / Source: http://www.newfoundations.com/Gaudeamus.html

 

 

Slovensko besedilo

(Vir / Source: http://sl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaudeamus)

 

Veselimo torej se,

mlada nam je duša,

veselimo torej se,

mlada nam je duša,

po prijetnostih mladosti,

po nadložni bo starosti,

vse nas krila ruša,

vse nas krila ruša.

 

 

Naj žive profesorji,

vsa akademija,

naj žive profesorji,

vsa akademija,

ud naj slednji njen živi,

naj živijo udje vsi,

trajno naj cvetijo,

trajno naj cvetijo.

 

 

Zdravljica / A Toast: France Prešeren (prevedel / translated by: Janko Lavrin)

http://www.commissionersam.com/files/images/Rose.preview.JPG

Vrtnica / Rose (Vir / Source: http://www.commissionersam.com/files/images/Rose.preview.JPG)

Spet trte so rodile,
prijat'lji, vince nam sladko,
ki nam oživlja žile,
srce razjasni in oko,
ki utopi
vse skrbi,
v potrtih prsih up budi.

Komu najpred veselo
zdravljico, bratje, č'mo zapet'?
Bog našo nam deželo,
Bog živi ves slovenski svet,
brate vse,
kar nas je
sinov sloveče matere!

V sovražnike `z oblakov
rodu naj naš'ga trešči grom!
Prost, ko je bil očakov,
naprej naj bo Slovencev dom;
naj zdrobe
njih roke
si spone, ki jim še teže!

Edinost, sreča, sprava
k nam naj nazaj se vrnejo!
Otrok, kar ima slava,,
vsi naj si v roke sežejo,
da oblast
in z njo čast,
ko pred, spet naša bosta last!

Bog živi vas, Slovenke,
prelepe, žlahtne rožice!
Ni take je mladenke,
ko naše je krvi dekle;
naj sinov
zarod nov
iz vas bo strah sovražnikov!

Mladen'či, zdaj se pije
zdravljica vaša, vi naš up!
Ljubezni domačije
noben naj vam ne usmrti strup;
ker po nas
bode vas
jo srčno branit' klical čas!

Žive naj vsi narodi
ki hrepene dočakat' dan,
da koder sonce hodi,
prepir iz sveta bo pregnan,
da rojak
prost bo vsak,
ne vrag, le sosed bo mejak!

Nazadnje še, prijat'lji,
kozarec zase vzdignimo,
ki smo zato se zbrat'li,
ker dobro v srcu mislimo.
Dokaj dni
naj živi
Bog, kar nas dobrih je ljudi!

The vintage, friends, is over,
And here sweet wine makes, once again,
Sad eyes and hearts recover,
Puts fire into every vein.
Drowns dull care
Everywhere
And summons hope out of despair.

To whom with acclamation
And song shall we our first toast give?
God save our land and nation
And all Slovenes where'er they live,
Who own the same
Blood and name,
And who one glorious Mother claim.

Let thunder out of heaven
Strike down and smite our wanton foe!
Now, as it once had thriven,
May our dear realm in freedom grow.
May fall the last
Chains of the past
Which bind us still and hold us fast!

Let peace, glad conciliation,
Come back to us throughout the land!
Towards their destination
Let Slavs henceforth go hand-in-hand!
Thus again
Will honour reign
To justice pledged in our domain.

To you, our pride past measure,
Our girls! Your beauty, charm and grace!
There surely is no treasure
To equal maidens of such race.
Sons you'll bear,
Who will dare
Defy our foe no matter where.

Our hope now, our to-morrow -
The youths - we toast and toast with joy.
No poisonous blight or sorrow
Your love of homeland shall destroy.
With us indeed
You're called to heed
Its summons in this hour of need.

God's blessing on all nations,
Who long and work for that bright day,
When o'er earth's habitations
No war, no strife shall hold its sway;
Who long to see
That all men free
No more shall foes, but neighbours be.

At last to our reunion -
To us the toast! Let it resound,
Since in this gay communion
By thoughts of brotherhood we're bound
May joyful cheer
Ne'er disappear
From all good hearts now gathered here.

Vir / Source: http://www.uvi.si/eng/slovenia/insignia/anthem/text/

 

Internacionala / The International

http://images.google.si/url?q=http://www.dickersons.com/FlowerListPics/Carnation.jpg&usg=AFQjCNE9kmNqsAh3rYRjlA6zKp2uheQxqQ

Nagelj / Carnation (Vir / Source: http://www.dickersons.com/FlowerListPics/Carnation.jpg)

Arise ye prisoners of want
For reason in revolt now thunders
And at last ends the age of cant.
Away with all your superstitions
Servile masses arise, arise
We'll change henceforth the old tradition
And spurn the dust to win the prize.

So comrades, come rally

And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.
So comrades, come rally
And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.

No more deluded by reaction

On tyrants only we'll make war
The soldiers too will take strike action
They'll break ranks and fight no more
And if those cannibals keep trying
To sacrifice us to their pride
They soon shall hear the bullets flying
We'll shoot the generals on our own side.

No saviour from on high delivers

No faith have we in prince or peer
Our own right hand the chains must shiver
Chains of hatred, greed and fear
E'er the thieves will out with their booty
And give to all a happier lot.
Each at the forge must do their duty
And we'll strike while the iron is hot.

Vir / Source: http://www.marxists.org/history/ussr/sounds/lyrics/internat.htm

 

Marseljeza / La Marseillaise

http://bananapatchstudio.com/images/photos/dc_o_hibiscus.jpg

Hibiskus / Hibiscus (Vir / Source: http://bananapatchstudio.com/images/photos/dc_o_hibiscus.jpg)

 

I
Allons enfants de la Patrie,
Le jour de gloire est arrivé.
Contre nous de la tyranie,
L'étendard sanglant est levé (bis)
Entendez vous dans les campagnes
mugir ces féroces soldats
Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras,
égorger vos fils, vos compagnes
Aux armes citoyens!
Formez vos bataillons!
Marchons, marchons,
qu'un sang impur abreuve nos sillons.

 

 

II
Que veut cette horde d'esclaves
De traîtres, de Roi conjurés?
Pour qui ces ignobles entraves,
Ces fers dès longtemps préparés? (bis)
Français! pour nous, ah! quel outrage!
Quels transports il doit exciter!
C'est nous qu'on ose méditer
De rendre à l'antique esclavage!

 

III
Quoi! des cohortes étrangères
Feraient la loi dans nos foyers!
Quoi! ces phalanges mercenaires
Terrasseraient nos fiers guerriers! (bis)
Grans Dieu! par des mains enchaînées
Nos fronts sous le joug se ploieraient
De vils despotes deviendraient
Les maîtres de nos destinées!

 

IV
Tremblez, tyrans! et vous, perfides,
L'opprobe de tous les partis,
Tremblez! vos projets parricides
Vont enfin recevoir leur prix (bis)
Tout est soldat pour vous combattre,
S'ils tombent, nos jeunes héros,
La terre en produit de nouveaux
Contre vous tout prêts à se battre

 

V
Français! en guerriers magnanimes
Portez ou retenez vos coups.
Epargnez ces tristes victimes
A regret s'armant contre nous. (bis)
Mais le despote sanguinaire,
Mais les complices de Bouillé,
Tous ces tigres qui sans pitié
Déchirent le sein de leus mère.

 

 

VI
Nous entrerons dans la carrière,
Quand nos aînés n'y seront plus
Nous y trouverons leur poussière
Et les traces de leurs vertus. (bis)
Bien moins jaloux de leur survivre
Que de partager leur cercueil,
Nous aurons le sublime orgueil
De les venger ou de les suivre.

 

VII
Amour Sacré de la Patrie
Conduis, soutiens nos bras vengeurs!
Liberté, Liberté chérie!
Combats avec tes défenseurs! (bis)
Sous nos drapeaux, que la victoire
Accoure à tes mâles accents!
Que tes ennemis expirant
Voient ton triomphe et notre gloire.

I

Arise children of the fatherland
The day of glory has arrived
Against us tyranny's
Bloody standard is raised
Listen to the sound in the fields
The howling of these fearsome soldiers
They are coming into our midst
To cut the throats of your sons and consorts
To arms citizens
Form you battalions
March, march
Let impure blood
Water our furrows

 

II
What do they want this horde of slaves
Of traitors and conspiratorial kings?
For whom these vile chains
These long-prepared irons?
Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage
What methods must be taken?
It is we they dare plan
To return to the old slavery!

III

What! These foreign cohorts!
They would make laws in our courts!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Would cut down our warrior sons
Good Lord! By chained hands
Our brow would yield under the yoke
The vile despots would have themselves be
The masters of destiny

 

IV

Tremble, tyrants and traitors
The shame of all good men
Tremble! Your parricidal schemes
Will receive their just reward
Against you we are all soldiers
If they fall, our young heros
France will bear new ones
Ready to join the fight against you

V

Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors
Bear or hold back your blows
Spare these sad victims
Who with regret are taking up arms against us
But not these bloody despots
These accomplices of Bouillé
All these tigers who pitilessly
Are ripping open their mothers' breasts

VI

We shall enter into the pit
When our elders will no longer be there
There we shall find their ashes
And the mark of their virtues
We are much less jealous of surviving them
Than of sharing their coffins
We shall have the sublime pride
Of avenging or joining them

VII

Sacred Love for the Fatherland
Lead and support our avenging arms
Liberty, cherished liberty
Join the struggle with your defenders
Under our flags, let victory
hasten to you virile (or manly) force
So that in death your enemies
See your triumph and our glory!

Vir / Source: http://www.thenationalanthems.com/country/france.htm

 

Janez Menart 1929-2004 (in Slovene); http://www.sanje.si/avtorji.php?avtorId=10:

http://www.suncatchersofhilo.com/images/plants/pink%20ginger%20gallery.JPG

Ingver / Ginger (Vir / Source: http://www.suncatchersofhilo.com/images/plants/pink%20ginger%20gallery.JPG)

Ljubi kruhek

 

Ko še pleničke sem zlatil,

lepo pri mamici sem pil

in nisem se prav nič boril

za ljubi kruhek.

 

Ko drsal šolske sem klopi,

spoznal sem: mnogo je ljudi

in vsak peha se in poti

za ljubi kruhek.

 

Ko trezno sem v življenje zrl,

sem vse bolj redko z njim se sprl

in marsikaj molče požrl

za ljubi kruhek.

 

Ko sem polagoma starel,

za dom in ženo sem skrbel

in mnogo lumparij počel

za ljubi kruhek.

 

Ko se mi je že zgrbil stas,

mi trebuh visel je čez pas

kot jasen in vabljiv oglas

za ljubi kruhek.

 

Na grob je vklesal kamnosek:

Ta, ki tu gnije, ni bil pek,

a glej, preživel je svoj vek

za ljubi kruhek.

Če bil bi

(Travestija po C. Angiolieriju)

 

Če bi bil ogenj, bi razvnel ljudi.

Če bil bi veter, bi skrbi pregnal.

Če bil bi voda, vino bi postal.

Če bil bi bog, bi rekel, da me ni.

 

Če bil bi papež, kar nerad bi bil,

iz hudobije papež bi ostal.

Če bil bi kralj, bi Engelsa prebral

in legel v grob in prav marljivo gnil.

 

Če bil bi Smrt, bi se pri priči ustrelil.

Če bi Življenje bil, bi skonzerviral

sam sebe in se med ljudi razdelil.

 

bi rad v tem času spet živel in tod.

bi ženskam vsa mazala rekviriral,

zrcala pa za jezo jim pustil.

 

In če ...

In če to stvarstvo sploh ne more v mere,

ki vanje tlači ga človeški duh?

Če so sistemi, sklepanja in vere

le strah pred ničem, spretno skrit v napuh?

 

Če Bog z nesmrtno dušo se ne rima,

če Bog in duša sta le plod idej?

Če Bog res je, a človek duše nima?

Če snov ni mrtva in je duša v njej?

...

 

Molitev

...

Zato ne pravim, da te ni,

in ne, da si – kje je dokaz?

Zakaj mi skrit je tvoj obraz?

Daj znamenje! Čemu ga ni?


Morda zahtevaš slepo vero?

A, glej, če si me ti ustvaril,

ti sam razum si mi podaril,

ki vse preverja s svojo mero.

...

 

Dvom

 

Vse je.

Vse ni.

Vse je in ni.

Kaj je?

Kaj ni?

O, dvom!

...

 

Pokvečene vizije,

skažene iluzije,

zverižen, šepast svet.

...

 

Atlant

 

...

Ko me pogoltne noč,

dajte mi pravo ime –

ali besedo SRCE

ali

MOČ.

 

Romanca

 

Kar zdaj objemaš, bo nekoč segnilo,

kot ukazuje zakon vseh teles.

zamrlo bo, razpadlo in segnilo...

grdo se čuje, vendarle je res.

...

 

Ljudje rode se in svoj bežni čas

žele čim bolj popolno preživeti,

zato se najdejo, kot ti in jaz,

zato so srečni, če jim mesec sveti.

 

Oda

 

...

In v mavricah je zažarelo drevje

in sonce je ozelenelo v klicah

in v iskrah rose blisnil smeh zvezda

 

in po ljubezni vzdihnilo vejevje

in na žareče pisanih gredicah

je spet vzcvetel rdeči cvet srca.

 

Sonet

 

Ko trezno mislim, dobro vem, gospa,

da niste takšni, kot ste v moji sanji,

da ste vse bolj tuzemski in vsakdanji,

le ena izmed žensk tega sveta.

 

Prav dobro vem, da ste le ogledalo,

ki mi podobe lastnih upov kaže,

ki mu verjamem, če mi je lagalo,

samo zato, ker mi prijetno laže.

 

A ker mi že ta zemeljska lepota

je zameglila trezni vid srca,

da v njej zdaj svoje lastne sanje snubim,

 

in ker mi je prijetna ta slepota

in ker v resnici lepi ste, gospa,

se ne jezite, če vas ljubim.

 

Na svoj petinštirideseti rojstni dan

 

Vse bistvo vseh teh mojih let

v vrsticah dveh lahko podam:

od zunaj me je žrl svet,

a znotraj sem se sam.

 

Antena

 

...

Tako je s čustvi. Svet leži pred nami

sam zase, stvaren in zastrt očem;

in če ni v duši iskre, ki ga vzdrami,

ostane zmerom stvaren, pust in nem.

...

 

Exegi monumentum

 

...

Zahvaljena, o, Muza, za trenutke,

ko vid duha v temi blisk pesmi uzre,

ko dvoje rim se kliče skoz občutke,

se išče, najde in za zmeraj spne.

Vir / Source: Janez Menart: Pesmi, Zbirka Živi pesniki, DZS, Ljubljana 1981.

 

William Shakespeare: Sonnet CXXX

http://www.handlebarhostas.ca/Pere_MN/Monardabeebalmred.jpg

Medenika / Beebalm (Vir / Source: http://www.handlebarhostas.ca/Pere_MN/Monardabeebalmred.jpg)

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;

Coral is far more red than her lips' red:

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks.

And in some perfumes is there more delight

Than in the breath than from my mistrees reeks.

I love to hear her speak; yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound:

I grant I never saw a goddess go,

My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare

As any she belied with false compare.

 

France Prešeren: iz Poezij / from Poezije (in Slovene)

http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/images/uploads/lotus.jpg

Lotos / Lotus (Vir / Source: http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/images/uploads/lotus.jpg)

Iz srca svoje so kali pognale

Mokrocveteče rož'ce poezije.

 

Jim ti iz oči pošlji žarke mile,

In gnale bodo nov cvet bolj veselo.

Sem dolgo upal in se bal,

slovo sem upu, strahu dal;

srce je prazno, srečno ni,

nazaj si up in strah želi.

Vir / Source: France Prešeren: Poezije

 

J