Ossian si un poem vechi al sau

ossian2.jpgOssian, in traducerea lui Goethe, fragment din „Suferintele tanarului Werther”, tradus in romaneste de Alexandru Philippide. L-am transcris pentru ca mi s-a parut incredibil de frumos prin  simplitatea formei si profunzimea trairilor.

 

   „ Stea a noptii care coboara? Frumos lucesti tu la apus! Din norul tau iti inalti fruntea stralucitoare; cu maretie pasesti peste dealuri. Ce privesti tu si ce vezi pe campie? Vanturile vijelioase s-au potolit. Se-aude de departe murmurul suvoiului. Valuri vuiesc, rostogolindu-se peste stanci, departe, zumzetul gazelor serii acopera campul.     Ce privesti, luna frumoasa?Dar tu zambesti si te duci.Valurile vin vesele in jurul tau, umezindu-ti frumoasele plete.Adio, raza tacuta. Rasai minunata lumina a sufletului lui Ossian!Si ea rasare cu toata puterea! Vad prietenii de care m-am despartit!Ei se aduna iar pe Lora, ca-n vremurile de demult.Fingal vine ca un umed stalp de ceatza;Vitejii lui il inconjoara.Si iata barzii cantecului: Ullin cu capul carunt, chipesul Ryno! Alpin, cu glasul fermecator! Si tu, Minona, cu tanguirea ta dulce! Cat de mult v-ati schimbat, prieteni, din zilele de sarbatoare de le Selma, pe vremea cand ne perteceam in cantec asemenea vanturilor primaverii ce zboara de-a lungul colinei si, rand pe rand, apleaca iarba cu un fosnet usor. Si tu, Minona, iesi inainte, frumoasa, cu ochii plecati si plansi. Parul ei greu falfaia in nestatornicul vant care sufla din varful dealului.Sufletele vitejilor se posomorara cand vocea ei dulce incepu a rasunaEi vazura de multe ori mormantul lui Salgar si intunecata locuinta a Colmei cea alba, Colma parasita pe munte, cu glasul ei armonios.  Salgar ii fagaduise ca are sa vina, dar in jurul ei se lasa noaptea.Asculti glasul Colmei care statea singura pe deal.                         

                                     Colma

E noapte! Sunt singura, pierduta pe dealul batut de furtuna.Vantul vajaie in munti. Suvoiul vuieste, pravalindu-se de pe stanca.Nici o coliba nu ma adaposteste de ploaie, pe mine, cea parasita pe dealul batut de furtuna.Ridica-te, luna, din norii tai! Rasariti, stele ale noptii!De m-ar duce vreo raza acolo unde iubitul meu se odihneste ostenit dupa vanatoare, cu arcul destins si cu cainii gafaind imprejur!Dar eu trebuie sa raman aici singura, langa stanca si langa suvoiul napadit de muschi.Suvoiul si furtuna vuiesc si eu n-aud glasul iubitului meu.De ce nu vine Salgar al meu? Si-a uitat oare fagaduiala? Iata stanca, iata copacul, iata suvoiul care vuieste! Mi-ai spus ca la caderea serii ai sa fii aici. Ah! Unde s-a ratacit Salgar al meu? Voiam sa fug cu tine, sa-l parasesc pe tata si pe fratele meu, trufasi amandoi. Neamurile noastre se dusmanesc de multa vreme, noi insa nu ne dusmanim, o, Salgar! Opreste-te o clipa, vant! Suvoi, potoleste-te o clipa sa mi se-auda glasul pana in vale, sa m-auda iubitul meu calator. Salgar! Te cheama Colma! Iata copacul si iata stanca! Salgar, iubite, sunt aici, de ce nu vii? Iata, rasare luna. Raul luceste in vale. Stancile se inalta cenusii peste rapi. Dar eu nu-l vad pe creasta. Cainii lui nu vin sa-mi dea de veste ca e pe-aproape. Si eu trebuie sa stau aici, singura.   Cine-i intins colo jos pe campie? Iubitul meu? Fratele meu? Vorbiti, prieteni!  Dar ei nu raspund. Ce plin de groaza mi-e sufletul! Ah, ei sunt morti. Palosele lor sunt rosii de lupta. O, frate, frate! De ce mi l-ai ucis pe Salgar? O, Salgar, de ce mi-ai ucis fratele? Atat de dragi imi erati amandoi! …….”

Varianta in engleza, cu fragmente in plus.

James MacPherson’s
 The Poems of Ossian

THE SONGS OF SELMA.

ARGUMENT.

    Address to the evening star. Apostrophe to Fingal and his times. Minona sings before the king the song of the unfortunate Colma, and the bards exhibit other specimens of their poetical talents according to an annual custom established by the monarchs of the ancient Caledonians.STAR of descending night! fair is thy light in the west! thou that liftest thy unshorn head from thy cloud: thy steps are stately on thy hill. What dost thou behold in the plain? The stormy winds are laid. The murmur of the torrent comes from afar. Roaring waves climb the distant rock. The flies of evening are on their feeble wings: the hum of their course is in the field. What dost thou behold, fair light? But thou dost smile and depart. The waves come with joy around thee: they bathe thy lovely hair. Farewell, thou silent beam! Let the light of Ossian’s soul arise!And it does arise in its strength! I behold my departed friends. Their gathering is on Lora, as in the days of other years. Fingal comes like a watery column of mist! his heroes are around: and see the bards of song, gray-haired Ullin! Stately Ryno! Alpin with the tuneful voice! the soft complaint of Minona! How are ye changed, my friends, since the days of Selma’s feast! when we contended, like gales of spring, as they fly along the hill, and bend by turns the feebly whistling grass.Minona came forth in her beauty: with downcast look and tearful eye. Her hair flew slowly on the blast, that rushed unfrequent from the hill. The souls of the heroes were sad when she raised the tuneful voice. Often had they seen the grave of Salgar, the dark dwelling of white-bosomed Colma. Colma left alone on the hill, with all her voice of song! Salgar promised to come: but the night descended around. Hear the voice of Colma, when she sat alone on the hill.Colma. It is night, I am alone, forlorn on the hill of storms. The wind is heard on the mountain. The torrent pours down the rock. No hut receives me from the rain; forlorn on the hill of winds!

Rise, moon! from behind thy clouds. Stars of the night, arise! Lead me, some light, to the place where my love rests from the chase alone! his bow near him, unstrung: his dogs panting around him. But here I must sit alone, by the rock of the mossy stream. The stream and the wind roar aloud. I hear not the voice of my love! Why delays my Salgar, why the chief of the hill, his promise? here is the rock, and here the tree! here is the roaring stream! Thou didst promise with night to be here. Ah! whither is my Salgar gone? With thee, I would fly from my father; with thee, from my brother of pride. Our race have long been foes; we are not foes, O Salgar!

Cease a little while, O wind! stream, be thou silent awhile! let my voice be heard around. Let my wanderer hear me! Salgar! it is Colma who calls. Here is the tree, and the rock. Salgar, my love! I am here. Why delayest thou thy coming? Lo! the calm moon comes forth. The flood is bright in the vale. The rocks are gray on the steep, I see him not on the brow. His dogs come not before him, with tidings of his near approach. Here I must sit alone!

Who lie on the heath beside me? Are they my love and my brother? Speak to me, O my friends! To Colma they give no reply. Speak to me; I am alone!

 My soul is tormented with fears! Ah! they are dead! Their swords are red from the fight. O my brother! my brother! why hast thou slain my Salgar? why, O Salgar! hast thou slain my brother? Dear were ye both to me! what shalt I say in your praise? Thou wert fair on the hill among thousands! he was terrible in fight. Speak to me; hear my voice; hear me, song of my love! They are silent; silent for ever! Cold, cold, are their breasts of clay! Oh! from the rock on the hill, from the top of the windy steep, speak, ye ghosts of the dead! speak, I will not be afraid! Whither are ye gone to rest? In what cave of the hill shall I find the departed? No feeble voice is on the gale: no answer half-drowned in the storm!

I sit in my grief; I wait for morning in my tears! Rear the tomb, ye friends of the dead. Close it not till Colma come. My life flies away like a dream: why should I stay behind? Here shall I rest with my friends, by the stream of the sounding rock. When night comes on the hilt; when the loud winds arise; my ghost shall stand in the blast, and mourn the death of my friends. The hunter shall hear from his booth. he shall fear but love my voice! For sweet shall my voice be for my friends: pleasant were her friends to Colma!”

 http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/ossian/index.htm

180px-jean_auguste_dominique_ingres_009-2.jpg

Anunțuri

Lasă un răspuns

Completează mai jos detaliile tale sau dă clic pe un icon pentru a te autentifica:

Logo WordPress.com

Comentezi folosind contul tău WordPress.com. Dezautentificare / Schimbă )

Poză Twitter

Comentezi folosind contul tău Twitter. Dezautentificare / Schimbă )

Fotografie Facebook

Comentezi folosind contul tău Facebook. Dezautentificare / Schimbă )

Fotografie Google+

Comentezi folosind contul tău Google+. Dezautentificare / Schimbă )

Conectare la %s

%d blogeri au apreciat asta: