Sa Morte ’e s’Ilighe (Engels vertaling)

  • Artiest: Marisa Sannia
  • Nummer: Sa Morte ’e s’Ilighe 3 vertalingen
  • Vertalingen: Engels, Italiaans, Spaans
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Sa Morte ’e s’Ilighe

Proite m’ind’as bettadu? e no ischias
Chi m’an sos antigos tuos piantadu?
O forsis s’umbra male t’apo dadu,
Cando a s’istadiale t’ind’enias?
Dae una lande, 'attida intro s’iscaltzu
De unu columbu areste innoghe mortu,
Piantadu m’aìan in mes’e ortu.
Curriat tando su mese ’e frealzu.
Ma maju 'enzeit carrigu de ardores,
De varias ervas a sa terra;
E a ponner sas cortes in sa serra
Nde fin torrados totus sos pastores.
E deo puru, pro 'ider cussa festa
De fiores, de montes e piantas,
Ponzei sas fozas mias totu cantas
E a su sole pesei sa testa
Tènnera e bella. No aìa un’annu
Chi pius de un homine fi’altu;
Poi ramos deretos ap’ispaltu
E mi fattei superbu, forte e mannu.
E fentomadu ‘enzei in donzi banda
Pro s’abundantzia e pro ramos nodiu;
Umbras serenas daìa a s’istiu
E in s’ierru giompiat sa lande.
E nd’apo 'idu de nottes e de dies
Malas e bonas; soles e turmentos
De temporadas. Mai a sos bentos
Zedei, ne a carrigos de nies.
Deretu fia, che i’su destinu
Bonu de custa domo e de cust’ortu;
E tue, ingratu, m’as mortu!
Toegevoed door HampsicoraHampsicora op Di, 03/05/2016 - 23:01
Laatst bewerkt door HampsicoraHampsicora op Ma, 13/11/2017 - 19:13
Submitter's comments:

The lyrics are taken from a poem by Montanaru (Antiogu Casula, 1878 – 1957).

Engels vertalingEngels
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The Death of the Holm Oak

Why did you cut me down? don’t you know
that I was planted by your ancestors?
Or perhaps I didn't shade you well,
when you came to me in the summer?
From an acorn, carried into his crop
by a wild pigeon, that died here,
they planted me in the midst of the garden.
At the time it was the month of February.
But then May came, loaded with warmth,
with various herbs on the ground;
and all the shepherds returned
to set their folds on the mountains.
And I too, so I could see that festival
of flowers, mountains and plants,
I jutted out all my many leaves
and to the sun I raised my head,
gentle and beautiful. I was still old
less than one year and was taller than a man;
then I spread my straight branches
and grew up superb, sturdy and big.
And I became renowned everywhere
for my abundance, and famed for my branches;
I gave serene shadows to the summer
and in winter the acorns came.
And I saw a lot of nights and days,
both good and bad; suns and flutter
of storms. I never surrendered
to the winds, nor to loads of snow.
I was upright, as the good fate
of this home and of this garden.
And you, ingrate, you have killed me!
Toegevoed door HampsicoraHampsicora op Di, 03/05/2016 - 23:09
Laatst bewerkt door HampsicoraHampsicora op Do, 19/05/2016 - 18:58
The author of translation requested proofreading.
It means that he/she will be happy to receive corrections, suggestions etc about the translation.
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