To start off fresh again with my languages mingling poems, I researched a several poets who are famous for expressing their inner thoughts about life/death/dream.
Gacela of the Dark Death by Federico Garcia Lorca (Spanish)
Miscellaneous, No. 723 in Sankashu by Saigyo (Japanese)
L'Ennemi (The Enemy) by Charles Baudelaire (French)
How Can a Man Escape Life's Sorrow and Regret? By Li Yu (Chinese)
I purposely pick these four poems because of the genre and their compatibility. The four poems can be linked up in a proper order and become a much more intense and expressive poem piece. In a way, it is similar to the Japanese collaborative poem format, Renga, which require each poet to create a continuing poem given by the previous poet.
Wiki - RENGA
What I am conceiving here is a Language Progressing Comprehensive Approach. In any translation, it starts off from the original text and to the final polished translation, but often we miss the literal translation part in between the translating process. Literal translation can be viewed as the essence of the original text coated with the words of the translating language. For many listeners, literal translation provides comedic value more than its usefulness since both sides listens aren't accustom to the hybrid text. But it's an interesting text material for providing unusual linguistic and grammar to create an ambiguous language sound space.
I intend to using the vocal sounds of these three text materials to harness an semi-comprehensible linguistic sound space that can be perceived differently by individual's language skills. I expect a single language speaker would have different level of comprehensive feedback compare to two, or three, or even four languages speakers.
The following poems include, the polished translation text, the original text, and the literal translation text, in that order.
I want to sleep the dream of the apples, [Polished Translation]
Quiero dormir el sueño de las manzanas [Original text]
I sleep the sleep of apples [Literal Translation]
to withdraw from the tumult of cemetries.
alejarme del tumulto de los cementerios.
away from the tumult of cemeteries
I don't want to hear again that the dead do not lose their blood,
No quiero que me repitan que los muertos no pierden la sangre;
I do not want to repeat that the dead do not lose their blood;
that the putrid mouth goes on asking for water.
que la boca podrida sigue pidiendo agua.
that the rotting mouth continues for water.
I don't want to learn of the tortures of the grass,
No quiero enterarme de los martirios que da la hierba,
I do not want to hear of the martyrdom that gives the grass,
nor of the moon with a serpent's mouth
ni de la luna con boca de serpiente
or the snake-mouthed moon
that labors before dawn.
que trabaja antes del amanecer.
working before dawn.
I want to sleep awhile,
Quiero dormir un rato,
I want some sleep,
awhile, a minute, a century;
un rato, un minuto, un siglo;
awhile, a minute, a century;
but all must know that I have not died;
pero que todos sepan que no he muerto;
but everybody knows they have not died;
The empty sky
of my heart
Enshrouded in spring mist
Rises to thoughts of
Escape from the world
Leaving the world behind
Do you think?
As I ponder
Kick the dandruff
my waning shadow
The shadow of our world
of life far gone
Also permanency to us
in the distance
The moon or repellent
the moon sets
sink into the end
I’ve tossed aside the world of sorrows
Beside fleeting life
as a stranger to myself
So what note will I now sound
Change in what way
what will become of me
My youth has been nothing but a tenebrous storm,
Ma jeunesse ne fut qu'un ténébreux orage,
My youth was a dark storm
Pierced now and then by rays of brilliant sunshine;
Traversé çà et là par de brillants soleils;
Crossed here and there by brilliant suns
Thunder and rain have wrought so much havoc
Le tonnerre et la pluie ont fait un tel ravage,
Thunder and rain have caused such havoc
That very few ripe fruits remain in my garden.
Qu'il reste en mon jardin bien peu de fruits vermeils.
Let him stay in my little garden of red fruits.
I have already reached the autumn of the mind,
Voilà que j'ai touché l'automne des idées,
Now I have touched the autumn ideas
And I must set to work with the spade and the rake
Et qu'il faut employer la pelle et les râteaux
And I must use the shovel and rakes
To gather back the inundated soil
Pour rassembler à neuf les terres inondées,
To bring to nine the flooded land,
In which the rain digs holes as big as graves.
Où l'eau creuse des trous grands comme des tombeaux.
Where the water digs holes as large as tombs.
And who knows whether the new flowers I dream of
Et qui sait si les fleurs nouvelles que je rêve
And who knows if the new flowers I dream
Will find in this earth washed bare like the strand,
Trouveront dans ce sol lavé comme une grève
Find in this soil washed like a strike
How can a man escape life's sorrow and regret?
Life sorrow regret how can avoid
What limit is there to my solitary grief?
Overwhelm sorrow alone my feeling what limit
I returned to my homeland in a dream,
Old country dream again return
As I awakened, I shed two tears.
Wake come two tears fall
Who now will climb up those high towers,
High tower who do climb
I remember those clear autumn scenes.
Long remember autumn clear scene
Those past events have lost their meaning,
Past events already become empty
They disappear as in a dream.
Gone like a dream in