Liten fuggel (traducere în Engleză)

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Smal bird

There is a joy
In tender reed
In every sugestion of a life.
There is a sound
From migrating birds
Which tells us everything will fall down.
 
There is a tone
In mold and leaves
That tells us everything turns to dust.
Like the nights spoils
All will be forgotten
By this law we are all judged.
 
But if I see
A small bird
Flying low on golden wings,
I pick him down
With my hands.
 
Then maybe you'll
Sing a song
About heaven and far lands,
About thight alleys
And the wild path,*
About safe ports and fairways.**
 
Yes if I see
A small bird
Flying low on golden wings,
I pick him down
With my hands.
 
Then the wind
Takes you away
When your memory rests in peace.
There is a solace,
There is a port
For every missed one, every name.
 
Yes if I see
A small bird
Flying low on golden wings,
I pick him down
With my hands.
 
Then maybe you'll
Sing a song
About heaven and far lands,
About thight alleys
And the wild path,
About safe ports and fairways.
 
Postat de SylvrosaSylvrosa la Joi, 28/05/2015 - 21:27
Comentariile autorului:

*Could also meen the wrong path, or the path one is on when going astray.
**The maritime use of the word. "Farbar lei" or "Fairway" is a navigable path in deeper water between islands, big rocks, shallows and other dangers. They are marked with stakes, lanterns and lighthouses, and are drawn on maps.

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Liten fuggel

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