• Язык:
    Джерсийский (Jèrriais)

Lé Pèrrot

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Mé, j'sis un pèrrot v'nu d'îles bein au liain,
mais mé v'chîn cârré dans l'aître d'un chorchi;
tout l'tou des globes, d'la vèrr'rie, du papi,
lé vyi rîncliote, et l'hôlouoge sonne en vain.

À l'heuthe des chorchéthons, à l'yi d'adain,
à l'êcliat d'cout'las, ès vouaix enrainchies,
qu'mes ailes d'jéhan et d'vèrtu saient craînchies,
ainchîn jé m'freûle auve d's êpitafl'yes d'cahouains.

Ainchîn! Lé v'là tchi s'sîlye souos chutte néthe votte:
un d'vîn ès cartes - s'nou-s'aime, s'nou-s'êpithouote -
un dêbaûchi en grand manté couèrt d'or, -

et j'rêve au baté, trantchil'ye dans la baie;
j'èrconnais l'solé lithant, et d'amors
j'êprouve d'oublier qu'toute chorchel'lie est laie.

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Canzonet 1

How many of earth’s oceans I’ve sailed, oceans / ancient, gay, foam-covered; / how many matchless nights and days / have gone guiding caravans across the steppes... / / How we laughed, then, / my Muse and I, free... / Rhymes flew together like birds, / so many-I don&rsqu...

Canzonet 2

Your temple, Lord, is in Heaven, / but the earth is Your shelter, too. / Lime trees bloom in the forests, / and birds sing in the trees. / / Like Your cathedral bells, spring / moves across the fields, gay, / and flying on a dream’s wings / angels come to us, in spring. / /...

Canzonet 3

How quiet Nature has gone! / All eyes, all ears. / Our spirit leans, leans / toward that final, awful freedom. / / And earth will forget how soldiers / hurt her, how merchants sinned, / and Druids will teach on green hills / as once, once before they taught. / / And poets will ...

Nature

Well, that’s her, that’s how she is: Nature, and the spirit / refuses to know her. / There’s the meadow, hung with the scent of honey / and a whiff of swamps, / / And the beginning wail of the wind, / like wolves in the distance, / and up over the fringes of pine / ...

Creation

My words spawned giants, / and they sat guzzling wine / all night, crimson wine, / horrible wine. / / I would not have known such weariness / had they been drinking my blood; / Dawn’s fingers were running across / my back when I fell asleep. / / I woke when it was evening...

Stockholm

I dreamed of Stockholm: why? / A restless, troubled dream / sprung from some different time, / almost a nightmare - almost... / / A holiday, maybe: who knows? / The bell kept clanging, that bell, / like a huge organ gone mad, / and a whole city praying, buzzing, roaring... / / ...