Alfred

Otto-Friedrich-Universität, Bamberg

Mathnawi Zeilen 21–30

Alfred /
  • Created on 2018-06-11 18:25:30
  • Modified on 2018-06-13 12:03:47
  • Translated by Nicholson (Englisch); Rosen (Deutsch)
  • Aligned by Alfred
فارسی
English
Deutsch
21 کوزۀ چشم حريصان پر نشد
تا صدف قانع نشد پر دُر نشد

22 هر کرا جامه ز عشقی چاک شد
او ز حرص و جملۀ عيبی پاک شد

23 شاد باش ای عشقِ خوش سودای ما
ای طبيت جملۀ علتهای ما

24 ای دوای نخوت و ناموسِ ما
ای تو افلاطون و جالينوس ما

25 جسم خاک از عشق بر افلاک شد
کوه در رقص آمد و چالاک شد

26 عشق جان طور آمد عاشقا
طور مست و خَرَّ موسی صاعقا

27 با لب دمسازِ خود گر جفتمی
همچو نی من گفتنیها گفتمی

28 هرک او از هم زبانی شد جدا
بی زبان شد گرچه دارد صد نوا

29 چونک گل رفت و گلستان در گذشت
نشنوی زآن پس ز بلبل سر گذشت

30 جمله معشوقست و عاشق پردۀ
زنده معشوقست و عاشق مردۀ
21 The pitcher , the eye of the covetous , never becomes full :
the oyster-shell is not filled with pearls until it is contented .

22 He ( alone ) whose garment is rented by a ( mighty ) love
is purged of covetousness and all defect .

23 Hail , O Love that bringest us good gain
thou that art the physician of all our ills ,

24 The remedy of our pride and vainglory ,
our Plato and our Galen !

25 Through Love the earthly body soared to the skies :
the mountain began to dance and became nimble .

26 Love inspired Mount Sinai , O lover ,
( so that ) Sinai ( was made ) drunken and Moses fell in a swoon .

27 Were I joined to the lip of one in accord with me ,
I too , like the reed , would tell all that may be told ;

28 ( But ) whoever is parted from one who speaks his language
becomes dumb , though he have a hundred songs .

29 When the rose is gone and the garden faded ,
thou wilt hear no more the nightingale’s story .

30 The Beloved is all and the lover ( but ) a veil ;
the Beloved is living and the lover a dead thing .
21 Voll wird des Geiz’gen Aug’ nie ; doch verleiht
Der Muschel Perlen die Genügsamkeit .

22 Wem immer Liebe riß das Kleid entzwei ,
Der ist von Geiz und aller Schande frei .

23 O Liebe , du mein süßes Weh , Heil dir ,
Meiner Gebresten Balsam , für und für !

24 Du heilst von Scham und Hochmut mein Gemüte ,
O du der alten Weisen schönste Blüte !

25 Den Leib von Staub ließ Lieb‘ gen Himmel schweben ,
Der Berg zerbarst , den Liebe macht erbeben ;

26 O Freund , Horeb ist worden liebestrunken ,
Und Moses ist ohnmächtig hingesunken !

27 Wär‘ mir der , den ich liebe , Mund an Mund
Vereint , o manches wollt‘ ich tun auch kund .

28 Doch stumm ist selbst , wer hundert Weisen kennt ,
Ist er von dem , der ihn versteht , getrennt .

29 Wenn Lenz entflohn , wenn hin die Zeit der Rosen ,
Hörst du nicht mehr die Nachtigallen kosen .

30 Zwei Wesen Lieb‘ zu einem Ding verwebt ,
Tot ist , was liebt , nur das Geliebte lebt .

( 17 ) 13% FAR
( 118 ) 87% FAR - ENG

( 144 ) 63% FAR - ENG
( 84 ) 37% ENG

( 144 ) 63% FAR - ENG
( 84 ) 37% ENG

Mathnawi, Vorrede, Zeilen 21–30

Alfred /
  • Created on 2018-07-26 08:50:55
  • Modified on 2018-07-26 22:36:21
  • Translated by R. Nicholson (E); G. Rosen (D)
  • Aligned by Alfred
فارسی
English
Deutsch
21 کوزۀ چشم حريصان پر نشد
تا صدف قانع نشد پر دُر نشد

22 هر کرا جامه ز عشقی چاک شد
او ز حرص و جملۀ عيبی پاک شد

23 شاد باش ای عشقِ خوش سودای ما
ای طبيب جملۀ علتهای ما

24 ای دوای نخوت و ناموسِ ما
ای تو افلاطون و جالينوس ما

25 جسم خاک از عشق بر افلاک شد
کوه در رقص آمد و چالاک شد

26 عشق جان طور آمد عاشقا
طور مست و خَرَّ موسی صاعقا

27 با لب دمسازِ خود گر جفتمی
همچو نی من گفتنیها گفتمی

28 هرک او از هم زبانی شد جدا
بی زبان شد گرچه دارد صد نوا

29 چونک گل رفت و گلستان در گذشت
نشنوی زآن پس ز بلبل سر گذشت

30 جمله معشوقست و عاشق پردۀ
زنده معشوقست و عاشق مردۀ
21 The pitcher , the eye of the covetous , never becomes full :
the oyster-shell is not filled with pearls until it is contented .

22 He ( alone ) whose garment is rented by a ( mighty ) love
is purged of covetousness and all defect .

23 Hail , O Love that bringest us good gain
thou that art the physician of all our ills ,

24 The remedy of our pride and vainglory ,
our Plato and our Galen !

25 Through Love the earthly body soared to the skies :
the mountain began to dance and became nimble .

26 Love inspired Mount Sinai , O lover ,
( so that ) Sinai ( was made ) drunken and Moses fell in a swoon .

27 Were I joined to the lip of one in accord with me ,
I too , like the reed , would tell all that may be told ;

28 ( But ) whoever is parted from one who speaks his language
becomes dumb , though he have a hundred songs .

29 When the rose is gone and the garden faded ,
thou wilt hear no more the nightingale’s story .

30 The Beloved is all and the lover ( but ) a veil ;
the Beloved is living and the lover a dead thing .
21 Voll wird des Geiz’gen Aug’ nie ; doch verleiht
Der Muschel Perlen die Genügsamkeit .

22 Wem immer Liebe riß das Kleid entzwei ,
Der ist von Geiz und aller Schande frei .

23 O Liebe , du mein süßes Weh , Heil dir ,
Meiner Gebresten Balsam , für und für !

24 Du heilst von Scham und Hochmut mein Gemüte ,
O du der alten Weisen schönste Blüte !

25 Den Leib von Staub ließ Lieb‘ gen Himmel schweben ,
Der Berg zerbarst , den Liebe macht erbeben ;

26 O Freund , Horeb ist worden liebestrunken ,
Und Moses ist ohnmächtig hingesunken !

27 Wär‘ mir der , den ich liebe , Mund an Mund
Vereint , o manches wollt‘ ich tun auch kund .

28 Doch stumm ist selbst , wer hundert Weisen kennt ,
Ist er von dem , der ihn versteht , getrennt .

29 Wenn Lenz entflohn , wenn hin die Zeit der Rosen ,
Hörst du nicht mehr die Nachtigallen kosen .

30 Zwei Wesen Lieb‘ zu einem Ding verwebt ,
Tot ist , was liebt , nur das Geliebte lebt .

( 15 ) 11% FAR
( 120 ) 89% FAR - ENG

( 153 ) 67% FAR - ENG
( 75 ) 33% ENG

( 153 ) 67% FAR - ENG
( 75 ) 33% ENG

Borges y yo

Alfred /
  • Created on 2018-07-30 14:38:07
  • Modified on 2018-07-30 14:38:15
  • Translated by Ilan Stavans
  • Aligned by Alfred
Español
English
Al otro , a Borges , es a quien le ocurren las cosas . Yo camino por Buenos Aires y me demoro , acaso ya mecánicamente , para mirar el arco de un zaguán y la puerta cancel ; de Borges tengo noticias por el correo y veo su nombre en una terna de profesores o en un diccionario biográfico . Me gustan los relojes de arena , los mapas , la tipografía del siglo xviii , las etimologías , el sabor del café y la prosa de Stevenson ; el otro comparte esas preferencias , pero de un modo vanidoso que las convierte en atributos de un actor . Seria exagerado afirmar que nuestra relación es hostil ; yo vivo , yo me dejo vivir , para que Borges pueda tramar su literatura y esa literatura me justifica . Nada me cuesta confesar que ha logrado ciertas páginas válidas , pero esas páginas no me pueden salvar , quizá porque lo bueno ya no es de nadie , ni siquiera del otro , sino del lenguaje o la tradición . Por lo demás , yo estoy destinado a perderme , definitivamente , y sólo algún instante de mi podrá sobrevivir en el otro . Poco a poco voy cediéndole todo , aunque me consta su perversa costumbre de falsear y magnificar .

Spinoza entendió que todas las cosas quieren perseverar en su ser ; la piedra eternamente quiere ser piedra y el tigre un tigre . Yo he de quedar en Borges , no en ( si es que alguien soy ) , pero me reconozco menos en sus libros que en muchos otros o que en el laborioso rasgueo de una guitarra . Hace años yo traté de librarme de él y pasé de las mitologías del arrabal a los juegos con el tiempo y con lo infinito , pero esos juegos son de Borges ahora y tendré que idear otras cosas . Así mi vida es una fuga y todo lo pierdo y todo es del olvido , o del otro .

No cuál de los dos escribe esta página .
The other one , Borges , is to whom things happen . I walk through Buenos Aires , stop , maybe a bit mechanically , to look at the arch of an entrance way and a grillwork door ; I have news from Borges by mail or when I see his name in a list of professors or in a biographical dictionary . I like hourglasses , maps , 18th-century typography , the taste of coffee , and Stevenson’s prose ; the other shares those preferences but with a vanity that turns them into an actor’s attributes . It would be an exaggeration to affirm that our relationship is hostile ; I live , I let myself live , so that Borges can plot his literature and that literature justifies me . It doesn’t cost me anything to confess he has achieved a few valid pages , but those pages can’t save me , perhaps because what’s good no longer belongs to anyone , not even to the other , but to language and traditions . In any case , I’m destined to be lost , definitively , and just some instant of me will survive in the other . Little by little I cede everything , even though I’m aware of his perverse tendency to falsify and pontificate . Spinoza understood that all things want to be preserved in their being : the stone eternally wants to be a stone and the tiger a tiger . I shall remain in Borges , not in myself ( if I am someone ) , but I recognize myself less in his books than in many others and in the laborious strumming of a guitar . Years ago I tried freeing myself from him and went from the mythologies of the arrabal to the games with time and the infinite , but those games are Borges’ now and I shall come up with other things . Thus my life is a flight and I lose everything and everything belongs to oblivion , or to the other . I don’t know which of the two writes this page .

( 346 ) 97% ESP
( 10 ) 3% ESP - ENG

( 11 ) 3% ESP - ENG
( 345 ) 97% ENG