Friday, May 10, 2013

9/4makeup: day9pome4. Translitic!

Es fällt ein Stern herunter
Aus seiner funkelnden Höh’!
Das ist der Stern der Liebe,
Den ich dort fallen seh’.

Es fallen vom Apfelbaume                                            
Der Blüten und Blätter viel
Es kommen die neckenden Lüfte
Und treiben damit ihr Spiel.

Es singt der Schwan im Weiher
Und rudert auf und ab,                                             
Und immer leiser singend
Taucht er ins Flutengrab.

Es ist so still und dunkel!
Verweht ist Blatt und Blüt’,
Der Stern ist knisternd zerstoben,                                 
Verklungen das Schwanenlied.

This was the *very first* attempt at transliterating.  I had to punch a rather lot of the words into Google Translate and ask her to pronounce them for me so I could try a listen.  Sometimes I just gave up and went with something closer to the spelling.  After this first transliteration, my physical brain was in actual pain.  It's crazy messy!

Die, Libby, the star
Is fault in stern her under
Odds signer funk phone golden her
That’s east there stern there libby
Then its door fallen see

It’s fallen from apple balm
there blue ten and ladder feel
It’s coming, the neck in then loose, duh
Untried bun damnit ears peel

It’s singed there swan in wire
under dirt awful dab
un dimmer laser sing and
daughter in flute in grab

assist so still and uncle
for what is blood and blue?
the stern is niece turned there stolen
fear clung and that’s swan in lead

Four editversions later, I have this, which I will continue to revise, but here it is for now, just in time to finish the 9/4 challenge.

Deliberate Star:
It is not your fault if stern,
odd signs hang, golden and funky, calling
you to go east.  Stars will stop
in the door to think before falling into the sea.

They fall under apple trees,
leaving behind letters written in blue ink,
you’ll feel them coming, nooses on their necks
that untie when they hear your curses.

Their electricity singes swans
as they crash deep into the earth,
dimming out like neon signs,
singing, their voices like flutes.

Sit still among the trees.
Your veins are as blue as their letters
and your knees may swell from kneeling
in fear while the swans softly bleed.

1 comment:

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