World Poetry Day: Assorted Poems, Assorted Languages

Il trionfo di Bacco e Arianna Lorenzo de’ Medici Quant’è bella giovinezza,
How beautiful our Youth is che si fugge tuttavia!
That’s always flying by us! Chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
Who’d be happy, let him be so: di doman non c’è certezza.
Nothing’s sure about tomorrow. Quest’è Bacco e Arianna,
Here are Bacchus, Ariadne, belli, e l’un dell’altro ardenti:
Lovely, burning for each other: perchè ‘l tempo fugge e inganna,
Since deceiving time must flee, sempre insieme stan contenti.
They seek their delight together. Queste ninfe ed altre genti
These nymphs, and other races, sono allegre tuttavia.
Are full of happiness forever. Chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
Who’d be happy, let him be so: di doman non c’è certezza.
Nothing’s sure about tomorrow. L’Eternité by Arther Rimbaud Elle est retrouvée.
It has been found again. Quoi ? – L’Eternité.
What ? – Eternity. C’est la mer allée
It is the sea fled away Avec le soleil.
With the sun. Ame sentinelle,
Sentinel soul, Murmurons l’aveu
Let us whisper the confession De la nuit si nulle
Of the night full of nothingness Et du jour en feu.
And the day on fire. Des humains suffrages,
From human approbation, Des communs élans
From common urges Là tu te dégages
You diverge here Et voles selon.
And fly off as you may. 王之涣白日依山尽
The sun beyond the mountain glows, 黄河入海流,
The yellow river seawards flows. 欲穷千里目,
You can enjoy a great sight, 更上一层楼。
By climbing to a greater height. Fotoğraf Dört kişi parkta çektirmişiz,
The four of us had our photo taken in the park Ben, Orhan, Oktay, bir de Şinasi…
Me, Orhan, Oktay, and Şinasi Anlaşılan sonbahar
Autumn apparently Kimimiz paltolu, kimimiz ceketli
Some of us in coats, some of us in jackets Yapraksız arkamızdaki ağaçlar…
Leafless trees behind us… Babası daha ölmemiş Oktay’ın,
Oktay’s father hasn’t died yet Ben bıyıksızım,
I have a mustache, Orhan, Süleyman efendiyi tanımamış.
Orhan hasn’t met Master Süleyman Ama ben hiç böyle mahzun olmadım;
But I’ve never been so melancholy; Ölümü hatırlatan ne var bu resimde?
What in this picture would remind me of death? Oysa hayattayız hepimiz.
For all of us are alive. Alô, liberdade. Desculpa eu vir assim sem avisar, mas já era tarde.
Hello freedom. Sorry I came without warning, but it was already late. Eu tenho tanta alegria, adiada, abafada,
I have so much joy, postponed, suffocating, quem dera gritar.
that I could scream. E por fugir ao contrário,
And by escaping the opposite, sinto-me duas vezes mais veloz.
I feel twice as strong. Vem, mas vem sem fantasia.
Come, but come without fantasy. É sempre bom lembrar que um copo vazio
It is always good to remember that esta cheio de ar.
an empty cup is full of air. Wie herrlich leuchtet
How grandly nature Mir die Natur!
Shines upon me! Wie glänzt die Sonne!
How glistens the sun! Wie lacht die Flur!
How laughs the mead! Es dringen Blüten
From countless branches Aus jedem Zweig
The blossoms thrust, Und tausend Stimmen
A thousand voices Aus dem Gesträuch
From underbrush, Und Freud’ und Wonne
And joy ecstatic Aus jeder Brust.
Fills everyone. Warszawa Jaka wielka jest Warszawa!
How great is Warsaw! Ile domów, ile ludzi!
How many houses, how many people! Ile dumy i radości
How much pride and joy W sercach nam stolica budzi!
The capital is awakening in our hearts! Ile ulic, szkół, ogrodów,
How many streets, schools, gardens, Placów, sklepów, ruchu, gwaru,
Squares, shops, traffic, bustle, Kin, teatrów, samochodów
Cinemas, theaters, cars I spacerów i obszaru!
And walks and areas! Aż się stara Wisła cieszy,
Even the old Vistula enjoys, Że stolica tak urosła,
That the capital has grown, Bo pamięta ją maleńką,
Because she remembers her as a child A dziś taka jest dorosła.
And today she is an adult. بـَــكــَــيــْـــتُ .. حــَــتــَّــى اِنــْـــتــَــهــَـــت الــدُّمــُـــوع
I cried till tears ended صــَـــلــَّــيــْــتُ .. حــَــتــَّــى ذَابــَـــت الــشــُّــمــُـــوع
I prayed .. till candles melted رَكــَــعــْــتُ .. حــَــتــَّــى مــَــلــَّــنــِــي الــرُّكــُـــوع
I knelt .. till kneeling got bored with me ســَــألــْـــتُ عــَــنْ مــُــحــَــمــَّــدٍ فــِــيــكِ ، وعــَــنْ يــَــســُــوع
In you, I asked about Muhammad and Jesus يــَــا قــُـــدْسُ ، يــَــا مــَــدِيــنــَـــةً تــَــفــُــوحُ أَنــْــبــِــيــَــاءَ
O, Quds, O, city scented by prophets يــَــا أَقــْـــصــَــرَ الــدُّرُوبِ بــَــيــْــنَ الأَرْضِ والــســَّــمــَــاءِ
O, you, shortest paths between earth and heaven يــَــا قــُــدْسُ ، يــَــا مــَــنــَــارةَ الــشــَّــرَائــِــــع
O, Quds! O, you, minaret of religions يــَــا طــِــفــْــلــَــةً جــَــمــِــيــلــَــةً مــَــحــْــرُوقــَـــةَ الأصــَـــابــِـــعِ
O, you pretty child with burnt fingers حــَـــزيــنــَــةٌ عــَــيــْـــنــَــاكِ ، يــَــا مــَــدِيــنــَـــةَ الــبــَـــتــُــول
Your eyes are sad, O, you city of the virgin (Mary)