Paris
romantic and bohemian
like a poem
mine and nobodies
of sad heart and wondering thought
brilliant and wrapped in gold cover
like the smile of a lover
city of tear and reverie
beautiful Paris
—————————————-
romantic si boem
ca un poem
al meu si al nimanui
de inima trista si gand haihui
stralucitor si poleit
ca zambetul unui iubit
oras de lacrima si vis
frumos Paris
————————————————
romantique et boheme
comme un poeme
a moi et a toute personne
de coeur triste et pensee qui etonne
brilliant et toute dore
comme la sourire d’un bien aime
ville de larme et reverie
toute belle Paris
——————————-
Poem in Romanian, English, French , memyselfandela / Adela Galasiu, July 2015
Photos: imagessource
Paris
“Je marche dans tes rues / I walk on your streets / Merg pe strazile tale
Qui me marchent sur les pieds / Which in turn step on my feet / Care imi merg pe talpi
Je bois dans tes cafés / I drink in your cafes / Beau in cafenelele tale
Je traîne dans tes métros / I hang around in your metros / Imi pierd vremea in metrourile tale
Tes trottoirs m’aiment un peu trop / Your sidewalks love me a bit too much / Trotuarele tale ma iubesc un pic prea mult
Je rêve dans tes bistrots / I dream in your bistros / Visez in bistrourile tale
Je m’assoie sur tes bancs / I sit down on your benches / Ma asez pe bancile tale
Je regarde tes monuments / I look at your monuments / Iti privesc monumentele
Je trinque à la santé de tes amants / I raise a toast to the health of your lovers / Toastez pentru sanatatea amantilor tai
Je laisse couler ta Seine / I let your Seine flow / Las Senna sa curga
Sous tes ponts, ta rengaine / Under your bridges, your tune / Sub podurile tale, melodia ta
Toujours après la peine / Always after the sorrows / Totdeauna dupa necazuri
Je pleure dans tes taxis / I cry in your taxis / Plang in taxiurile tale
Quand tu brilles sous la pluie / When you shine under the rain / Cand tu stralucesti sub ploaie
Ce que t’es belle en pleine nuit / How beautiful you are, in the middle of the night / Cat de frumos esti in plina noapte
Je pisse dans tes caniveaux / I take a piss in your gutters / Urinez in rigolele tale
C’est de la faute a Hugo / It’s all (Victor) Hugo’s fault / E vina lui (Victor) Hugo
Et je picolle en argot / And I get drunk in jargon / Si ma imbat in jargon
Je dors dans tes hôtels / I sleep in your hotels / Dorm in hotelurile tale
J’adore ta tour Eiffel / I adore your Eiffel Tower / Iti ador turnul Eiffel
Au moins elle, elle est fidèle / It, at least, is faithful / Cel putin el e credincios
Quand je te quitte un peu loin / When I leave you a little later / Cand te parasesc un pic departe
Tu ressembles au chagrin / You look just like sadness / Pari a fi doar tristete
Ça me fait un mal de chien / It hurts me so freaking much / Sufar ca un caine
Paris, Paris, combien? / Paris, Paris, how much? / Paris, Paris, cat de mult?
Paris tout ce que tu veux / Paris, whatever you want / Paris, paris, orice vrei
Boulevard des bouleverses / Boulevard of distress / Bulevard al suferintei
Paris tu m’as renversé / Paris, you knocked me off my feet / Paris, m-ai daramat
Paris tu m’as laissé / Paris, you left me / Paris, m-ai parasit
Paris, Paris, combien? / Paris, Paris, how much?/ Paris, Paris, cat de mult?
Paris tout ce que tu veux/ Paris, whatever you want / Paris, orice vrei
Paris, Paris, tenu / Paris, Paris , once had / Paris, Paris, avut
Paris, Paris, perdu / Paris, Paris, lost / Paris , Paris, pierdut
Paris tu m’as laissé / Paris, you left me / Paris, m-ai parasit
Sur ton pavé / On your pavement/ Pe pavajul tau
Je me réveille dans tes bras / I wake up in your arms / Ma trezesc in bratele tale
Sur tes quais y’a de la joie / On your docks, there is joy / Pe docurile tale e bucurie
Et des loups dans tes bois / And in your woods, there are wolves / Si in padurile tale lupi
Je me glisse dans tes cinés / I slip into your cinemas / Ma strecor in cinematografele tale
Je me perds dans ton quartier / I get lost in your neighbourhood / Ma pierd in cartierul tau
Je m’y retrouverai jamais / I will never manage to find my way there / Nu-mi voi gasi calea niciodata acolo
Je nage au fil de tes gares / I swim in the course of your train stations / Inot pe cursul statiilor tale de tren
Et mon regarde s’égare / And my gaze wanders / Si privirea mea rataceste
Je vois passer des cafards sur tes bars / I see cockroaches moving about on your bars / Vad trecand gandaci pe barurile tale
Je m’accroche aux réverbères / I hang on to the lampposts / Ma agat de felinare
Tes pigeons manquent pas d’air / Your pigeons have some nerve / Porumbeii tai au tupeu
Et moi de quoi j’ai l’air? / And me, what do I look like? / Si eu, eu cum arat?
Paris, Paris, combien? / Paris, Paris, how much? / Paris, Paris, cat de mult?
Paris tout ce que tu veux / Paris, whatever you want / Paris, paris, orice vrei
Boulevard des bouleverses / Boulevard of distress / Bulevard al suferintei
Paris tu m’as renversé / Paris, you knocked me off my feet / Paris, m-ai daramat
Paris tu m’as laissé / Paris, you left me / Paris, m-ai parasit
Paris, Paris, combien? / Paris, Paris, how much?/ Paris, Paris, cat de mult?
Paris tout ce que tu veux/ Paris, whatever you want / Paris, orice vrei
Paris, Paris, tenu / Paris, Paris , once had / Paris, Paris, avut
Paris, Paris, perdu / Paris, Paris, lost / Paris , Paris, pierdut
Paris tu m’as laissé / Paris, you left me / Paris, m-ai parasit
Sur ton pavé / On your pavement/ Pe pavajul tau
Je marche dans tes rues / I walk on your streets / Merg pe strazile tale
Qui me marchent sur les pieds / Which in turn step on my feet / Care imi merg pe talpi
Je bois dans tes cafés / I drink in your cafes / Beau in cafenelele tale
Je traîne dans tes métros / I hang around in your metros / Imi pierd vremea in metrourile tale
Tes trottoirs m’aiment un peu trop / Your sidewalks love me a bit too much / Trotuarele tale ma iubesc un pic prea mult
Je rêve dans tes bistrots / I dream in your bistros / Visez in bistrourile tale ”
Souad Massi & Marc Lavoine – Paris
Lyrics Translation : French- English – Romanian – Adela Galasiu July 2015
Reverie
Eyes on this big eyed moon
I bathe in silence
Looking at you
My dreaming love.
Lost in a silver reverie
Only this moon remembers how I missed you
How many times I lost you in past lives
Dying in torments just to be born and get back to you.
Dripping away her blues from the sky
The moon smiles
And my soul shines
For you’re always here with me.
—————————————–
70 words, memyselfandela, 2013
Claude Debussy : Clair de Lune, for Piano (Suite Bergamasque No. 3), L. 75/3
The Life of Birds BBC – The Lyre Bird
David Attenborough presents the amazing lyre bird, which mimics the calls of other birds – and chainsaws and camera shutters – in this video clip from The Life of Birds. This clever creature is one of the most impressive and funny in nature, with unbelievable sounds to match the beautiful pictures.
Dokken – There Was A Time
“It was late like the storm
Finding it hard tried to carry on
Without fear or the shame
We could walk in park
without being afraid
Was a time I believed
As the story unfolded so free
Now the passion is gone
All wrong
Down to the lake moonlit dawn
There was a time I believed
Time would heal everything
Was a time I believed
You were everything I need
They say that it’s starting to show
Should have seen it long ago
There was a time I believed
You were everything I need
As a child
We believed
We could wake from the night
and the dawn it seemed
Was so warm
So warm
Into his arms like a child I was born
Was a time I believed
Time would heal everything
Was a time I believed
You were everything I need
You took me like the sage
Searching for some absolution
Hard to know the reason nobody cared
Once upon a time
Take me right away
Let me know there’s still a season
Let me know there’s still
a reason to live
Give me peace of mind
There was a time I believed
Time would heal everything
Was a time I believed
You were everything I need
They say that it’s starting to show
Should have seen it long ago
There was a time I believed
You were everything I need
So now I’m taking a chase of Cavasier
With all of those words that
we shouldn’t have said
Walking the beach for
the last time again
Missing you more than I should…”
D. Dokken/K. Keeling
Viens lentement t’asseoir , Emile Verhaeren
Viens lentement t’asseoir
Près du parterre dont le soir
Ferme les fleurs de tranquille lumière,
Laisse filtrer la grande nuit en toi:
Nous sommes trop heureux pour que sa mer d’effroi
Trouble notre prière.
Là-haut, le pur cristal des étoiles s’éclaire:
Voici le firmament plus net et translucide
Qu’un étang bleu ou qu’un vitrail d’abside;
Et puis voici le ciel qui regarde à travers.
Les mille voix de l’énorme mystère
Parlent autour de toi,
Les mille lois de la nature entière
Bougent autour de toi,
Les arcs d’argent de l’invisible
Prennent ton âme et sa ferveur pour cible.
Mais tu n’as peur, oh ! simple coeur,
Mais tu n’as peur, puisque ta foi
Est que toute la terre collabore
A cet amour que fit éclore
La vie et son mystère en toi.
Joins donc les mains tranquillement
Et doucement adore ;
Un grand conseil de pureté
Flotte, comme une étrange aurore,
Sous les minuits du firmament.
Les heures claires (1896)
Evocation / Évocation – Nichita Stanescu
She was beautiful like the shadow of an idea
Her back smell like baby skin
Like freshly broken stone
Like scream from a dead language
She had no weight like respiration
Laughing and crying with big tears
She was salted like the salt
Offered at big feasts by barbarians.
She was beautiful like the shadow of an idea
Among waters, she alone was a shore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elle était belle comme l’ombre d’une idée.
Ses épaules sentaient la peau fraîche d’une enfant;
à une pierre elle semblait – vite brisée,
au cri elle paraissait – dans une langue morte.
Elle n’avait pas de poids comme le halètement.
Souriante – larmoyante aux grandes larmes, rares —
elle était salée comme le sel poudroyant
consacré aux festins par les vieux barbares.
Elle était belle comme l’ombre d’une pensée.
Entre les eaux, elle était à elle seule, la terre affamée.
Chaque heure, ou je songe a ta bonté, Émile Verhaeren
Chaque heure, où je songe à ta bonté
Si simplement profonde,
Je me confonds en prières vers toi.
Je suis venu si tard
Vers la douceur de ton regard,
Et de si loin vers tes deux mains tendues,
Tranquillement, par à travers les étendues !
J’avais en moi tant de rouille tenace
Qui me rongeait, à dents rapaces, la confiance.
J’étais si lourd, j’étais si las,
J’étais si vieux de méfiance,
J’étais si lourd, j’étais si las
Du vain chemin de tous mes pas.
Je méritais si peu la merveilleuse joie
De voir tes pieds illuminer ma voie,
Que j’en reste tremblant encore et presque en pleurs
Et humble, à tout jamais, en face du bonheur.
Les heures claires (1896)
He who dies (Ode to Life), Pablo Neruda
“Slowly dies he who becomes a slave to habit,
repeating the same journey every day,
he who doesn’t change his march, he who doesn’t risk
and change the color of his clothes, he who doesn’t speak to he whom he doesn’t know.
Slowly dies he who makes of the television his guru,
he who avoids a passion dies, he who prefers
black on white and dots on i’s rather than a togetherness of emotions
exactly those that make the eyes shine,
those that make the heart beat
before error and feeling.
Slowly dies he who doesn’t overturn the table,
he who is unhappy in his work,
he who doesn’t risk certainty for uncertainty
to follow a dream,
he who doesn’t permit himself at least one time in his life
to flee sensible counsels.
Slowly dies he who doesn’t travel, he who doesn’t read,
he who doesn’t listen to music,
he who doesn’t find grace in himself.
he who destroys his own love dies,
he who doesn’t allow himself to be helped.
He who passes his days lamenting
about his own misfortune or the incessant rain dies.
Slowly dies he who abandons a project
before beginning it,
he who doesn’t ask questions about topics he doesn’t know,
he who doesn’t answer when he is asked something that he knows.
Let’s avoid death by small doses,
remembering always that being alive requires a much larger effort
than the simple act of breathing.
Only burning patience will bring within reach a splendid happiness.”
