Moonlight by Verlaine

[Pomme de Terre]

Moonlight by Verlaine

Your soul
a choice landscape
where masks and bergamasques go
(charming)
playing the lute and dancing;
there’s a partial sadness
beneath
their capricious disguises.

All the singing
in the minor mode
of
victorious love and the expedient life;
-- they don’t have the air of belief in their happiness.
(and their songs are mixed with the moonlight).

The calm moonlight
sad and beautiful
that made the
birds
in
the
trees
dream
and
weep with ecstasy
like fountains
large slender fountains amongst marble.

[David]

Woah. I really like this - it seems very accomplished. Having said that, and written a big YES across it, I have a couple of little no-words.

You've gone for a word for word translation of Ils n'ont pas l'air de croire à leur bonheur, where I think you'd definitely be better off with just good old "they don't seem to believe ...", and if we're talking of capricious (which is a great word), I might apply it to your use of brackets, which don't appear in the original at all.

Interesting reformatting of the third verse as well, but I quite like that.

I enjoyed this, pommy. More would be fun.

Salut!

David

[Pomme de Terre]

Thanks very much for your kind words and appreciation. The layout in my original word document was considerably different than the one I posted: I went for the whole Mallarme dispersal of words with the hope that I would offer sense of the cadence and diction. Oh well.

Perhaps next time I'll translate Mallarme's Un Coup de Des in rigid rhyme and metre.

[pitseleh]

how beautifully could this man write. i cant offer much language wise since i dont speak french.. thanks for taking the time to translate.. i thoroughly enjoyed.

harrison

[Lake]

Beautiful poem and the translation reads smoothly.
Is this how the original poem looks like? I mean formwise?

Thanks for sharing.

Lake

[David]

Viola!

Votre âme est un paysage choisi
Que vont charmant masques et bergamasques
Jouant du luth et dansant et quasi
Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques.

Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur
L'amour vainqueur et la vie opportune,
Ils n'ont pas l'air de croire à leur bonheur
Et leur chanson se mêle au clair de lune,

Au calme clair de lune triste et beau,
Qui fait rêver les oiseaux dans les arbres
Et sangloter d'extase les jets d'eau,
Les grands jets d'eau sveltes parmi les marbres.

So no, the original looks nothing like the translation.

[David]

[I thought I'd have a go at it myself. Anybody else?]

Your soul is a chosen landscape
where charming masks and bergamasks go,
playing the lute and dancing and rather
sad beneath their fantastic disguises.

All singing in a minor key,
of victorious love and opportune (?) life,
they don't seem to believe in their happiness
and their song blends with the moonlight,

with the still moonlight, beautifully sad,
which makes the birds in the trees dream
and weep, in ecstasy, fountains,
great smooth fountains amongst the marble.

[Lake]

(My try, no google's)

Your soul is a landscape chosen
What will charming masks and Bergamo
Playing the lute and dancing and almost
Sad under their disguises fantastic.

While singing in the minor mode
The winner and love life timely,
They do not seem to believe in their happiness
And their song blends with the moonlight,

Quietly moonlight sad and beautiful,
Who's dream birds in the trees
Sob of ecstasy and jets of water,
Large water jets slender among the marbles.