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Bo Venagen Otti

KOL GUFI NACH'LASH
TIPAH ACHER TIPAH
V'MARI KACHASH
MIN HASREYFAH
LAMAH LIB'OR LEVAD?
MIN HASREYFAH
LAMAH LIB'OR LEVAD?
YADAY HOMKOT MIMCHA
V'MASTYROT HASOR
RAK HAMAVAT ITCHA
SOREK BI 'OD
LAMAH LIB'OR LEVAD
SOREK BI 'OD
LAMAH LIB'OR LEVAD
HALAYLAH?
KOL LAYLAH HUA MAKAV
KOL LAYLAH HUA HASOF
AZ BO VENAGEN OTI
BO VENAGEN OTI
AZ BO VENAGEN
BO VENAGEN B'ME'AT AHAVAH
RAGLAI HOLKHOT MIMCHA
BETZA'AR HAPRYIDAH
NUSHEMET ET KULKHA
AKH AVUDAH
LAMAH LIB'OR LEVAD
K'VAR 'AYAFAH
KACH LE'AVED OTCHA
KACH LE'AVED OTCHA
KOL LAYLAH

song performed by Ofra Haza
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lady

'AL GAG BEVENEYN YESHAN LEVAD MITGORERET
'AL GAG B'LI M'ALYIT B'LI SH'KH'NYIM
SHANYIM ET HAMAD REGOT YOM YOM 'OD SUPEROT
SHANYIM B'LI YELADIM B'LI MILIM
BIRCHOVOT HA'IR HYA ROKEDET
MITZERAH EL TOCH TZARAH
V'EL ROSHAM LEMAZKERET
MIG BA'AT G'DOLAH V'SH'CHORAH
HU, LADY, ROKEDET LAH LEVAD KOL HAYOM
HU, LADY, ROKEDET LAH LEVAD KOL HAYOM
HU, LADY, LADY 'IM HALOM
KOL YOM BAGAN HATZIBURI ET HACHEV'REH MESADERET
KOL YOM LO 'ASHAH SHUM CHESHVUNOT
LO YODA'AT SHE'ET HAROSH HYA RAK SHOVERET
KOL YOM BEMISCHAKIM SHEL DIMYONOT
AKH ET MI HYA MECHAPESHET
MI HISHYIR BAH TZALAKOT
MI HISHYIR BAH LEMAZKERET
MIGVA'A ROAH RAK SH'CHOROT
HU, LADY, ROKEDET LAH LEVAD KOL HAYOM
HU, LADY, ROKEDET LAH LEVAD KOL HAYOM
HU, LADY, LADY 'IM HALOM
LADY 'IM HALOM
MAH ECHAD HAYOM
HASIFOR NIGMAR
AT 'ASAH LIMOR
LADY MUZARAH
LAMAH LAMAH RA'A
LADY,LADY, LADY

song performed by Ofra Haza
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tentacles of Time

Sadho Ye Murdon Ka Gaon
Peer Mare, Pygambar Mari Hain
Mari Hain Zinda Jogi
Raja Mari Hain, Parja Mari Hain
Mari Hain Baid Aur Rogi
Chanda Mari Hain, Suraj Mari Hain
Mari Hain Dharni Akasa
Chaudan Bhuvan Ke Chaudhry Mari Hain
In Hun Ki Ka Asa
Nauhun Mari Hain, Dus Hun Mari Hain
Mari Hain Sahaj Athasi
Tethis Koti Devata Mari Hain
Badi Kaal Ki Bazi
Naam Anam Anant Rehat Hai
Duja Tatva Na Hoi
Kahe Kabir Suno Bhai Sadho
Bhatak Maro Mat Koi

English Translation

Oh Sadhu This is the Village of the Dead

The Saints Have Died, The God-Messengers Die
The Life-Filled Yogis Die Too |
The Kings Die, The Subjects Die
The Healers and the Sick Die Too ||

The Moon Dies, The Sun Dies
The Earth and Sky Die Too |
Even the Caretakers of the Fourteen Worlds Die
Why Hope For Any of These ||

The Nine Die, The Ten Die
The Eighty Eight Die Easily Too |
The Thirty Three Crore Devatas Die
It's a Big Game of Time ||

The Un-Named Naam Lives Without Any End
There is No Other Truth ||
Says Kabir Listen Oh Sadhu
Don't Get Lost and Die ||

poem by Kabir
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Quintus

Incipit Liber Sextus

Est gula, que nostrum maculavit prima parentem
Ex vetito pomo, quo dolet omnis homo
Hec agit, ut corpus anime contraria spirat,
Quo caro fit crassa, spiritus atque macer.
Intus et exterius si que virtutis habentur,
Potibus ebrietas conviciata ruit.
Mersa sopore labis, que Bachus inebriat hospes,
Indignata Venus oscula raro premit.

---------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------

The grete Senne original,
Which every man in general
Upon his berthe hath envenymed,
In Paradis it was mystymed:
Whan Adam of thilke Appel bot,
His swete morscel was to hot,
Which dedly made the mankinde.
And in the bokes as I finde,
This vice, which so out of rule
Hath sette ous alle, is cleped Gule;
Of which the branches ben so grete,
That of hem alle I wol noght trete,
Bot only as touchende of tuo
I thenke speke and of no mo;
Wherof the ferste is Dronkeschipe,
Which berth the cuppe felaschipe.
Ful many a wonder doth this vice,
He can make of a wisman nyce,
And of a fool, that him schal seme
That he can al the lawe deme,
And yiven every juggement
Which longeth to the firmament
Bothe of the sterre and of the mone;
And thus he makth a gret clerk sone
Of him that is a lewed man.
Ther is nothing which he ne can,
Whil he hath Dronkeschipe on honde,
He knowth the See, he knowth the stronde,
He is a noble man of armes,
And yit no strengthe is in his armes:
Ther he was strong ynouh tofore,
With Dronkeschipe it is forlore,
And al is changed his astat,
And wext anon so fieble and mat,
That he mai nouther go ne come,
Bot al togedre him is benome
The pouer bothe of hond and fot,

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poem by John Gower
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Hake'ev Haze

'AD 'AKHSHYAV LO NISH'AR DAVAR
TEN LI SIMAN
HAKE'EV SHEHAYAH NISH'AR
KEN KOL HAZMAN
ATAH MITRACHEK, K'MU GAL NE'ELAM
VE'AL HACHOL HACHAM
RAK HAMAVAT SH'MAKHE'EV KOL KACH
K'SHACHOM GUFCHA BI
OCHEZ BI V'MITRAGESH
LOHET BI V'MITFATEL
HAKE'EV HAZEH
MAKEH BI 'OD
BID MA'OT KOL HAKAYTZ TAM
BA LU HASTYAV
ZIKHRONOT MITZEYRIM 'ANAN
K'MU AZ KEN 'AKHSHYAV
ATAH MITKAREV V'MELATEF ET PANAI
V'NOSHEM OTI, MITLAHET MULI, V'EYNAH
RETUVOT KOL KACH
K'SHACHOM GUFCHA BI
OCHEZ BI V'MITRAGESH
LOHET BI V'MITFATEL
HAKE'EV HAZEH
ATAH EY SHAM BEYN SHEVER BEYN 'ANAN
BEYN DAM V'BEYN 'ASHAN
AVUD KOL KACH
V'LI EYN KOACH EYN KOACH 'OD LIR'OT
OTCHA NOFEL, EYN LI K'CHO 'OD
K'SHACHOM GUFCHA BI
OCHEZ BI V'MITRAGESH
KEN HAKE'EV, HAKE'EV...

song performed by Ofra Haza
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rankat Ankat

Ne rankat ankat rakentaa nuo bunkkerinsa betonista,
ja irvisten paloviinaa juo, kun askarrellaan tappolista.
On nynny mm pullasorsa, joka muutosmusiikkia soittaa.
On paperia sen Opel Corsa, kun panssarivaunu tiet tasoittaa.
On vihollinen vieras lapsikin, ja se maa joka j rajan taa.
Jos koputetaan oveen bunkkerin on tunnuslause koskaan et muuttua
saa... Koskaan et muuttua saa...
Ja moni tulee viel kaatumaan, ja katumaan, ett edes sattui syntymn.
Kun rankkojen ankkojen opetusryhm tulee teille tahtia nyttmn!
Niin aseita sormeilee rpylt hikiset.
Kuolet, jollet nkemyksin jaa.
Vaan sinkin rankka ankka viel vikiset, kun bunkkerissa
jokin rasahtaa.
Niin ankkajoukko htkht, vain hyheni ilmaan j leijumaan.
Nin voiman alttarille joutuu joskus uhraamaan!
Kun tulitus viimein taukoaa, kaatuneille tehdn kunniaa.
Ja suurin lyp muita ankkoja muistuttaa:
Kvaak kvaak kvaak! Sanokaa niille ett min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak! Sanokaa niille ett min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak! Sanokaa niille ett min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!
MIES!
Vihdoin viimein odotettu piv koitti.
Johtaja-ankka lhtkskyn konekivrill soitti
soitti. Hyheniin meni mutaa ja rapaa, ja jokainen oli
vastuusta vapaa, tieten tyn oikeutuksen!
Vaan vihan innossa kontrolli petti.
Liian varhain irti psi tulivoima.
Taisi irti pst koko helvetti,
kun oli joka ankka pian toisen likvidoima.
Vain yksi en tantereella raahautui viime voimillaan.
Se rjytti reiin vihollismuuriin,
ja ji nky katsomaan.
Se kyrillen tiiraili kolostaan,
kun kansa rannalla nauroi ja ui.
Ja moni nytti nauttivan olostaan,
rankka ankka rantaleijonille nyrkki pui.
Se silmns loi yls taivaaseen,
ja lausui viimeiseksi lauseekseen:
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!
Kvaak kvaak kvaak kvaak! Min olen mies!

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song performed by YUP
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Mother's Lesson

Come hither an' sit on my knee, Willie,
Come hither an' sit on my knee,
An' list while I tell how your brave brither fell,
Fechtin' for you an' for me:
Fechtin' for you an' for me, Willie,
Wi' his guid sword in his han'.
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man!

Ye min' o' your ain brither dear, Willie,
Ye min' o' your ain brither dear,
How he pettled ye aye wi' his pliskies an' play,
An' was aye sae cantie o' cheer:
Aye sae cantie o' cheer, Willie,
As he steppit sae tall an' sae gran',
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man.

D'ye min' when the bull had ye doun, Willie,
D'ye min' when the bull had ye doun?
D'ye min' wha grippit ye fra the big bull,
D'ye min' o' his muckle red woun'?
D'ye min' o' his muckle red woun', Willie,
D'ye min' how the bluid doun ran?
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man.

D'ye min' when we a' wanted bread, Willie,
the year when we a' wanted bread?
How he smiled when he saw the het parritch an' a',
An' gaed cauld an' toom to his bed:
Gaed awa' toom to his bed, Willie,
For the love o' wee Willie an' Nan?
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man!

Next simmer was bright but an' ben, Willie,
Next simmer was bright but an' ben,
When there cam a gran' cry like a win' strang an' high
By loch, an' mountain, an' glen:
By loch, an' mountain, an' glen, Willie,
The cry o' a far forrin lan',
An' up loupit ilka brave man, Willie,
Up loupit ilka brave man.

[...] Read more

poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Dykker-Klokken

Det var i Aaret — — ak! nu kan jeg Aaret ikke huske;
Men Maanen skinnede ret smukt paa Træer og paa Buske.
Vor Jord er intet Paradiis; som Praas tidt Lykken lyser;
Om Sommeren man har for hedt, om Vinteren man fryser.
At melde i en Elegie, hvor tidt vi her maae græde,
Det nytter jo til ingen Ting, kan ei en Christen glæde.
Det var i Aaret, som De veed, jeg ei kan rigtig huske,
Jeg gik om Aftenen en Tour imellem Krat og Buske;
Det hele Liv stod klart for mig, men jeg var ei fornøiet;
Dog muligt var det Nordens Vind, som fik mig Vand i Øiet.
En Tanke gik, en anden kom, og, for mig kort at fatte,
Tilsidst jeg paa en Kampesteen mig tæt ved Havet satte.
I Ilden er der lidt for hedt, paa Jord, som sagt, man fryser,
Og stige i en Luft-Ballon — — nei! nei! mit Hjerte gyser;
Dog muligt at paa Havets Bund i sikkre Dykker-Klokker
Sit Liv man paa Cothurner gaaer, og ei, som her, paa Sokker.
Saa tænkte jeg, og Reisen blev til næste Dag belavet,
(I Dykker-Klokker, som man veed, kan vandres gjennem Havet).
— Af klart Krystal var Klokken støbt, de Svende frem den trække,
Tilskuere paa Kysten stod, en lang, en broget Række;
Snart var det Hele bragt i Stand, jeg sad saa luunt derinde,
Nu gleed da Snoren, Tridsen peeb, jeg blev saa sær i Sinde, -
For Øiet var det sort, som Nat, og Luften pressed' saare,
Den trykkede som Hjertets Sorg, der lettes ei ved Taare. -
Det var, som Stormens Orgel slog — jeg kan det aldrig glemme!
Som naar i Ørknen en Orkan med Rovdyr blander Stemme.
— Men snart jeg blev til Tingen vant, og dette saae jeg gjerne;
Høit over mig var ravne-sort, det bruste i det Fjerne.
Der Solen stod saa rød og stor, men ei med mindste Straale,
Saa at man uden sværtet Glas „ihr' Hoheit" kunde taale.
Mig syntes Stjerne-Himlen hist i sin Studenter-Kjole
Lig Asken af et brændt Papir, hvor Smaa-Børn gaae af Skole.
— Rundt om mig klarede det op, jeg hørte Fiske bande,
Hver Gang de paa min Klokke løb og stødte deres Pande.
Men Skjæbnen, ak! det slemme Skarn, misundte mig min Glæde,
Og som en Sværd-Fisk var hun nu ved Klokkens Snoer tilstæde,
Og hurtigt gik det: „klip! klip! klip!" rask skar hun Snoren over;
Der sad jeg i min Klokke net, dybt under Havets Vover.
Først blev jeg hed, saa blev jeg kold, saa lidt af begge Dele,
Jeg trøsted' mig; Du kan kun døe, se det er her det Hele.
Men Klokken sank dog ei endnu, den drev paa Havets Strømme,
Jeg lukkede mit Øie til, og lod saa Klokken svømme.
Den foer, ret som med Extra-Post, vist sine tyve Mile,
„Und immer weiter, hop! hop! hop!" foruden Rast og Hvile.
Een Time gik, der gik vel tre, men Døden kom dog ikke,
Saa blev jeg af den Venten kjed, og aabned mine Blikke.
Ak Herreje! ak Herreje! Hvad saae jeg dog paa Bunden!
Den første halve Time jeg som slagen var paa Munden. -
Dybt under mig var Bjerg og Dal med Skove samt med Byer,
Jeg Damer saae spadsere der med store Paraplyer. -

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poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Tercius

Incipit Liber Quartus

Dicunt accidiam fore nutricem viciorum,
Torpet et in cunctis tarda que lenta bonis:
Que fieri possent hodie transfert piger in cras,
Furatoque prius ostia claudit equo.
Poscenti tardo negat emolumenta Cupido,
Set Venus in celeri ludit amore viri.

Upon the vices to procede
After the cause of mannes dede,
The ferste point of Slowthe I calle
Lachesce, and is the chief of alle,
And hath this propreliche of kinde,
To leven alle thing behinde.
Of that he mihte do now hier
He tarieth al the longe yer,
And everemore he seith, 'Tomorwe';
And so he wol his time borwe,
And wissheth after 'God me sende,'
That whan he weneth have an ende,
Thanne is he ferthest to beginne.
Thus bringth he many a meschief inne
Unwar, til that he be meschieved,
And may noght thanne be relieved.
And riht so nowther mor ne lesse
It stant of love and of lachesce:
Som time he slowtheth in a day
That he nevere after gete mai.
Now, Sone, as of this ilke thing,
If thou have eny knowleching,
That thou to love hast don er this,
Tell on. Mi goode fader, yis.
As of lachesce I am beknowe
That I mai stonde upon his rowe,
As I that am clad of his suite:
For whanne I thoghte mi poursuite
To make, and therto sette a day
To speke unto the swete May,
Lachesce bad abide yit,
And bar on hond it was no wit
Ne time forto speke as tho.
Thus with his tales to and fro
Mi time in tariinge he drowh:
Whan ther was time good ynowh,
He seide, 'An other time is bettre;
Thou schalt mowe senden hire a lettre,
And per cas wryte more plein
Than thou be Mowthe durstest sein.'

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Shki'a

YOM SHEL 'AMAL SHOKE'A EL SOF HAYAM
RACHOK NASHEK HUA ET HAYAM NIR DAM
AZ MIN HADEREKH SHEV LO SHAV HA'ADAM
'AYEF KOL KACH V'HUA HULEM SHQI'AH
IL SH'KAV BEMETEK SFATAYIM
EL TOCH HA'ARBAYIM
LISHKAV 'AL GAV
LISHKAV LACHLOM ZUG 'EYNAYIM
LISHTOCH EL HALAYL
LISHKAV 'AL GAV
VELO LACHUSH MASA'
MOL DIM DUMIM HABEKHI 'OD NEFATEH
LEVAD LEVAD RACHOK MIN HA'OROT
KOL HATZ LALIM YORDIM ZEH 'AL ZEH
V'SHNEYNU MECHAFSHIM ET HASIVOT
IL SH'KAV BEMETEK SFATAYIM
EL TOCH HA'ARBAYIM
LISHKAV 'AL GAV
LISHKAV LACHLOM ZUG 'EYNAYIM
LISHTOCH EL HALAYL
LISHKAV 'AL GAV
VELO LACHUSH MASA'

song performed by Ofra Haza
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rime-Djævelen

Før jeg med Blæk Papiret vil bemale,
En lille Tale:
Troer, Læser, Du paa Aander, eller ei?
— „Nei!!!" -
Det klang lidt negativt, dog lad saa være,
Hør videre, og svar mig saa, min Kjære!
— Naar Du har Ærter spiist, saa mange som Du vil,
Tør Du da nægte, der er Ærter til?
Naar i Din egen Krop en Aand logerer,
Den existerer.
Hver Adams Søn en saadan føle vil,
Og altsaa, seer man, der er Aander til;
Er mit Beviis Dig ikke klart, min Kjære,
Læs Swedenborg — dog, lad det heller være! -
— De fleste Aander, som paa Jord har hjemme,
Er slemme;
Blandt Andet opfandt deres Præ-Genie
Tallotterie;
Snørliv for Damer og for Officerer,
Som fælt generer.
En saadan Djævel eller lille Nisse
Tilvisse
Var Slangen som, paa Fransk, i Paradiis
Til Eva sagde: „spiis Madamme, spiis!"
— Dog lad mig ei forvidt fra Texten springe,
Men paa Papiret mine Qvaler bringe
Med Pennen af den dræbte Gaases Vinge.
— Orest, forfulgt af Helvedes Chariter
Og Aphroditer,
Selv Don Juan i Flammer
Er Børne-Leeg mod min ukjendte Jammer;
Thi viid, saalangt min Tanke naaer tilbage,
Ak! alle Dage
Seer jeg en lille Djævel mig ledsage;
Han lever i mig, om mig, allevegne,
Dog kan jeg ei hans Skikkelse betegne,
Skjøndt vaagen og i Drømme, hver en Time
Han gjør at jeg maa — rime.
Ved Dødsfald tidt,
Jeg seer han ogsaa plager Andre lidt,
Hvorfor om Aaret
Han har sit Visse paa Aviscontoiret,
Men skjøndt af mig han aldrig noget fik,
Holdt han dog Stik.
— I Skolen selv, ved Typto og Amare,
Jeg følte ham i mine Lemmer fare,
Selv ved Examen — disse Farens Dage -
Han turde plage,
Skjøndt midt om Natten Badens Grammatik
Mig skræmmed med sit Robespierre-Blik.

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poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Vandring i Skoven

Min søde Brud, min unge Viv,
Min Kjærlighed, mit Liv!
Kom, Maanen skinner stor og klar,
En Stilhed Natten har,
En Deilighed, en Eensomhed,
Min søde Brud, kom med!
I Bøgeskoven gaae vi To,
Der, hvor Skovmærker groe.

I denne lyse, tause Nat,
Hos Dig, min Verdens Skat,
Jeg er saa glad, saa salig glad,
Duft friske Bøgeblad!
Syng Nattergal! lys Maane klar!
Jeg her al Rigdom har:
Min søde Brud, min unge Viv,
Min Kjerlighed, mit Liv!

Du er saa frisk som Bøgens Hang,
Som Nattergalens Sang,
Saa dyb som Nattens stille Ro,
Her hvor Skovmærker groe,
Hvor maleriske Bøge staae
Og vi ved Maan'skin gaae!
Min søde Brud, min unge Viv,
Min Kjærlighed, mit Liv!

poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Bachoshech

MI SHAM BACHOSHEKH MI MEALEL MIGME'ASHESH NOHEM BACHOSHEKH
KOL KACH MAVHIL KOL KACH MAFCHID LO NOTEN LISHON
KULI RO'EDET ANI KAN LEVAD V'HUA VACHUTZ
V'MISHTOTEKET OLAY TIPOS KAZEH LACHUTZ SHEMULI YETZUTZ
ROTZAH LIVROACH RAGLAY EYNO ZAZOT
ROTZAH LISHKOACH ET HAKOLOT
ROTZAH LITZROACH KOLI EYNO NISHMA'
ROTZAH LITZROACH EL HADMAMAH MI ZEH 'OMED
SHAM BACHOSHEKH?!...
HOSHEKH OLAY DIMYON OLAY HALOM?
HOSHEKH MATAY YAYIR HAYOM?
HOSHEKH HOSHEKH
PITHOM HADELET NEPTACHAT LEVAD VEKAR LI KAR V'D'MUT BACHOSHEKH
'OMEDET MULI V'BE'ENEHA MAVAT MUZAR SHIMSHAH NISHVERET
V'YAD ARUCHAH NGA'AT BI ANI NIZREKET ROTZAH 'EZ RAH
ROTZAH MIT TOR MIN HACHASHEKHAH
ROTZAH LIVROACH RAGLAY EYNO ZAZOT
ROTZAH LISHKOACH ET HAKOLOT
ROTZAH LITZROACH KOLI EYNO NISHMA'
ROTZAH LITZROACH EL HADMAMAH MI ZEH 'OMED
SHAM BACHOSHEKH?!...
HOSHEKH OLAY DIMYON OLAY HALOM

song performed by Ofra Haza
Added by Lucian Velea
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Poem For Raki (raki Is Turkish Brandy)

thanks GOD
rage and vengeance never conqured me
ı have never thought of being a governor
or a dı plomat
ı have never..never run after elections
this is the world
some goes after his lusts
some struggles for his lı vı ng and to live
but drinking rakı
is another..another world
for comfort yourself
you fill the mug or the little glass of something
and begin to ponder and think
you eat also something
bur rakı does not eat with you
never says do not talk
and do not laugh
but always rakı says the last word
and decides the last decision
if it wants it kills you
if it wants to make you laugh you laugh
if it wants
it darkends or illimunates your inside
if rakı wants
rakı conforts you all
but never the less
it comforts and binds you with a feable decaying rope
some time later
the harsh reality comes in front of you
all your hopes and fancies vanish
and say once a time upon
and the decaying rope splits up in two
you come again
face to face with the harsh reality
Ali TURK KESKIN..translatı on Metin Ş AHİ N

poem by Metin Sahin
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June

'Glemt er nu Vaarens Kamp og Vinter-Sorgen,
Til Glæde sig forvandler hvert et Suk.
Skjøn som en Brud, den anden Bryllups-Morgen,
Ei længer Barn, og dog saa ung og smuk,
Den skjønne Junimaaned til os kommer;
Det er Skærsommer! -

*
De høie Popler hæve sig saa slanke,
I Hyldetræet qviddrer Fuglen smukt.
Paa Gjærdet groer den grønne Humle-Ranke,
Og Æble-Blomstret former sig til Frugt.
Den varme Sommerluft fra Skyen strømmer,
Sødt Hjertet drømmer!

Paa Engen slaae de Græs; hør, Leen klinger.
Paa Himlen smukke Sommerskyer staae.
Og Kløvermarken Røgelse os svinger,
Mens høit i Choret alle Lærker slaae.
- Med Vandringsstav hist Ungersvenden kommer
Hjem i Skærsommer.

Ungersvenden.
Alt jeg Kirketaarnet øiner,
Spiret kneiser stolt derpaa.
Og hvor Marken hist sig høiner,
End de fire Pile staae.
Her er Skoven. Store Rødder
Før af Træerne der laae.
Her, som Dreng, jeg plukked' Nødder,
Og trak Jordbær paa et Straa!
- Barndoms Minder mig besjæle!
Jeg vil flyve, jeg vil dvæle!
Grønne Skov, min Barndoms Ven,
Kan Du kjende mig igjen?
Grønne Hæk, du brune Stamme,
Jeg, som før, er end den samme,
Har vel seet og hørt lidt meer,
Ellers Du den Samme seer! -
Her er Pladsen end med Vedet,
Godt jeg kjender Parken der!
Her er Stenten tæt ved Ledet,
Gud, hvor lille den dog er!
Alt jeg kjender her saa godt,
Men det er saa nært, saa smaat -
Det var stort, da jeg var liden,
Jeg er bleven større siden! -
- Lille Fugl paa grønne Qvist,
Saae Du mig derude hist,

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poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Discovered

SEEN you down at chu'ch las' night,
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
What I mean? oh, dat 's all right,
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
You was sma't ez sma't could be,
But you could n't hide f'om me.
Ain't I got two eyes to see!
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.

Guess you thought you's awful keen;
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
Evahthing you done, I seen;
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
Seen him tek yo' ahm jes' so,
When he got outside de do'-
Oh, I know dat man's yo' beau!
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.

Say now, honey, wha'd he say?-
Nevah min', Miss Lucy!
Keep yo' secrets-dat's yo' way-
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
Won't tell me an' I'm yo' pal!-
I'm gwine tell his othah gal,-
Know huh, too, huh name is Sal;
Nevah min', Miss Lucy!

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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December

'Hver sorgfuld Sjæl, bliv karsk og glad,
Ryst af din tunge Smerte,
Et Barn er født i Davids Stad,
Til Trøst for hvert et Hierte.'

*
(Juleaften).

Ungersve nden.
Dybt i mit Hjerte, hvor hun boer,
Et mægtigt Juletræ der groer,
Og det for hende ene.

Med Tankens Stjernelys det staaer,
Og Troskabs-Fuglen lifligt slaaer,
Bag Haabets grønne Grene.

Alt, hvad jeg har paa Jorden her,
Det finder hun paa Træet der,
Alt er for hende ene.

Jeg skal i Aften hende see,
Der leges Juul, hvo veed, maaskee
Hvad Himlen der mig bygger,

See hendes Sødskende, de Smaae,
Alt lyttende ved Døren staae,
Mens deres Træ hun smykker.

Børnene i Kammeret.
Waldemar.
Saae Du det store Træ, der kom igaar?
Jeg veed, nu er det plantet op derinde.
Og veed Du hvad? Det midt i Salen staaer,
Saa meget Stads paa Grenene de binde.
Jeg troer jeg faaer en nydelig Husar,
Og saa et Buur til begge mine Skader.

Jonna.
Men Jesu-Barnet aldrig seet jeg har,
Han kommer jo deroppe fra Gud Fader,
Og bringer os den hele Stads hvert Aar,
Hvor kan han komme ned og det saa stille?
Mon ogsaa Broder Viggo noget faaer,
Mon Jesu-Barnet veed, vi har den Lille?

Louise.
Det kan Du sagtens troe, til lille Broer
Han ogsaa noget deiligt Stads vil sende,
Han kom jo ned fra Himlen, sagde Mo'er,

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poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Mabool (The Flood)

Hineni mavi et hamabool maim al ha'aretz,
Leshachet kol basar asher bo ruach chaim mitachat hashamaim,
Kol asher ba'aretz yigva
Vemachiti et kol hayekum asher asiti me'al pney ha'adama"
May the lord eternal save his troubled child
As he passes through rain and storm
Behind the walls of this hallowed ark of wood
Our prophets found a revelation, which they understood
Onto the lands of fearful heaven
Comes a flood earsing all
Landing as if a ruthless bird of prey
To crush all human souls
The lightning
Colors of the sky with flames of light
Hell shines
Above us and the fires bright
Erasing
The works of the common man
All we hold dear is set alight
Bayom haze nivkeu kol ma'ayanot tehom raba
Ve'arubot hashamaim niftechu
Vemey hamabool hayu al ha'aretz
Shattered glass reflects this shattered world, barren in the landscape here
Thunder roars as a lion caged, heat that comes like waves of fear
Oceans rise and rage as we watch the world powers fall
Redeeming their sinful ways with their souls
May the truth fill their hearts, let them see the light, when they embrace their gods
"Vehine charvu pney ha'adama"
"Shofech dam ha'adam, ba'adam damo yishapech"
Return all earthly possessions
As ashes you return to earth,
Child of Godm to face the divine lord who sits upon the throne - eyes sad
Go in peace and find thy faith
Evolve thy self and lose all hate
So a heaven you may create
So a heaven you may create
In this world of sorrowful ways
None shall live to see the light of day
Some may survive to tell the tale
If their belief shall conquer this gale
Damnationis the punishment bestowed
El Norra Alila the vengeful God

song performed by Orphaned Land
Added by Lucian Velea
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Kol Haklafim

HAKOL BEYNEYNU NIGMAR
HATZA'ER LI LO 'AZAR
HAZMAN NITKA' BESHA'ON
BIR'CHOVOT HAKARIM
ANACHNU K'MU SHNEY ZARIM
MEGALGALIM DIKAON
V'ATAH BODED EY SHAM
MESACHEK LI GEBER 'AKSHAN
SHOMER MERCHAK SHAVO RAK ATAH NIGMAR
KOL HAQLAFIM GLUYIM 'AL HASHULCHAN
RAK LEBAVOT SH'BURIM BUKHIM BAZMAN
MISHEHU DOFEK LI BADELET
MISHEHU HOSHEV SHEHU KAN
BIMIPH'ALIM HAREYKIM
HAPO'ALIM DLUKIM
T'LUSH HAMASHKORET SHACHOR
BAKNYISAH MISAVIV
MOL PRETZUF LO HAVIV
KHULAM 'OMDIM BATOR
RAK ATAH ABUD EY SHAM
ROTZEH LA'OF LIHYOT 'ANAK
'IM HALOM RACHOK SHERAK ATAH BU HAY...

song performed by Ofra Haza
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yamim Nishbarim

TZILILI MERCHAKIM NOS'IM ET HALAYLAH
'AL GAV 'ANANYIM EL YOM HAMACHAR
VE'ET ZEKHRONKHA BETEREM HALAKHTA
KISAH HAMA'YIL BACHOREF HAKAR
MENASAH 'OD LISHMOR BEYNEYNU 'AL KESHER
GAM 'IM HASHKARIM HAPKU L'HERGEL
ATAH 'OD TELEKH ELEY HA BESETER
V'ANI ACHREYKHA NITFESET K'MU TZEL
YAMIM NISHBARIM, ROTZAH RAK MARGO'
LO 'OKLA 'OD LIR'OT D'RAKHIM RECHOKOT
YAMIM NISHBARIM, ROTZAH RAK MARGO'
KROVAH ELEYKHA, TOVAH ELEYKHA, KROVAH ELEYKHA LIHYOT
MELCHAMOT AVUDOT HOLKOT V'BA'OT SHUV
V'SHTEYNU NASHIM TZE'IROT V'BOKOT
MECHAKOT BIDMAMAH LAHUV SHEYASHOV 'OD
BEYNI V'BEYNAH - HAMILIM RO'ADOT
YAMIM NISHBARIM, ROTZAH RAK MARGO'
LO 'OKLA 'OD LIR'OT D'RAKHIM RECHOKOT
YAMIM NISHBARIM, ROTZAH RAK MARGO'
KROVAH ELEYKHA, TOVAH ELEYKHA,
KROVAH ELEYKHA LIHYOT

song performed by Ofra Haza
Added by Lucian Velea
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Prologus

Incipit Liber Primus

Naturatus amor nature legibus orbem
Subdit, et vnanimes concitat esse feras:
Huius enim mundi Princeps amor esse videtur,
Cuius eget diues, pauper et omnis ope.
Sunt in agone pares amor et fortuna, que cecas
Plebis ad insidias vertit vterque rotas.
Est amor egra salus, vexata quies, pius error,
Bellica pax, vulnus dulce, suaue malum.

I may noght strecche up to the hevene
Min hand, ne setten al in evene
This world, which evere is in balance:
It stant noght in my sufficance
So grete thinges to compasse,
Bot I mot lete it overpasse
And treten upon othre thinges.
Forthi the Stile of my writinges
Fro this day forth I thenke change
And speke of thing is noght so strange,
Which every kinde hath upon honde,
And wherupon the world mot stonde,
And hath don sithen it began,
And schal whil ther is any man;
And that is love, of which I mene
To trete, as after schal be sene.
In which ther can noman him reule,
For loves lawe is out of reule,
That of tomoche or of tolite
Welnyh is every man to wyte,
And natheles ther is noman
In al this world so wys, that can
Of love tempre the mesure,
Bot as it falth in aventure:
For wit ne strengthe may noght helpe,
And he which elles wolde him yelpe
Is rathest throwen under fote,
Ther can no wiht therof do bote.
For yet was nevere such covine,
That couthe ordeine a medicine
To thing which god in lawe of kinde
Hath set, for ther may noman finde
The rihte salve of such a Sor.
It hath and schal ben everemor
That love is maister wher he wile,
Ther can no lif make other skile;
For wher as evere him lest to sette,
Ther is no myht which him may lette.
Bot what schal fallen ate laste,

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poem by John Gower
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