I accidentally became a poet-translator. Or a translator-poet. Forgive me for this.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Now to business. In Glinnar folklore, there is a song called "\u00d3 Aiphensea" ("About Aiphensea") - in fact, a lament composed in honor of her untimely death. It is quite well known (by the way, I have already cited part of it here) and has been translated into a whole bunch of languages, but an interesting story is connected with its translation into Retsin.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
It is alleged that the first translation was made in the middle of the nineteenth century, but what is characteristic is that the translator used in the text not the literary norm of Retsin, but his native dialect, one of the southwestern continuum. The reason is simple: the original was also written not in the literary norm, and the translator wanted to preserve this ... piquancy, let's say.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
However, the translation has been irretrievably lost. In fact, it is not known for certain whether he existed at all, so you can consider this story a beautiful legend.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Why am I telling? It became interesting for me to imagine what this dialect translation could look like. So I took advantage of the existing literary, some amount of knowledge in the classic clay yard and ... wrote a thing. I do not pretend to be a great virshepet, but it turned out at least interesting.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
The night softly covered the cold hearth,
In it, I broke down dead for a long time.
And the sky is black over Duammen Afrag,
And the leaves are yellow canvas.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
The forest stands silent and mourns quietly
About the one whose tread is so light,
About the one in whose eyes the blue fire burns -
Clouds of stars twinkle in it.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
She circled under the cover of foliage,
Intertwined with a chant pattern
Flowers of the field and tall grass,
Edge-red bonfire.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
When the cross-section went to roam through the valleys
And the gray snow covered the branches,
She whispered: "I don't want to leave,
I want to stay here forever<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
I want to stay here forever."<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Fodallein came to the forests in spring,
Dancing on the grass with her.
And then the golden lights sang,
Ringing among the fashionable fires.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
He laughed, looking into her clear face,
And the wind whirled in the sky.
Fled from her - and suddenly overtook again,
And again played in the hair.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Slowly floated haze on the slope to the river[1]<\/sup><\/a>literary forms - "river", "far away"; in part of the southwestern dialects, the second palatalization was preserved in ... Continue reading<\/span><\/span><\/span>