tirsdag den 10. februar 2015

Vejen hjem -- 6 -- On my way Home

     I morges klokken halv otte lå Uglemor i sin varme seng. det er jo vinterferie tænkte Uglemor. Næste tanke var, det er jo tirsdag. Hvad gør man ikke for sine læsere, Uglemor stod op og trak i tøjet og var henne ved lygtepælen til sædvanlig tid, ca. kvart i otte, for at tage det ugentlige billede af vejen hjem.
     Det var frostvejr, men det er en dårlig idé at tage billede mod øst ti minutter før solopgang. Himlen var skønt lyseblå med småbitte drivende hvide skyer, græsset var hvidt og knasende og luften klar og bidende. Lige da Uglemor puttede kameraet tilbage i lommen, fløj otte svaner hen over landskabet med lydelige vingeslag.

 - - - - -

This morning at half past seven, MotherOwl was still in her cosy bed thinking: "It's school holiday, I don't have to get up just yet." The next thought was: "Well MotherOwl, its Tuesday, get up and snap a picture for your blog. What I do for my readers!" MotherOwl got up, dressed in her woollen cloak - it was sub-zero temperature, went to the lamppost just in time to snap the weekly photo at the usual time; a quarter to eight give or take a few minutes.
 It was cold, clear and crisp. Taking photos towards east not ten minutes before sunrise manes for bad pictures. Imagine the sky pale blue with small fuzzy cloudlets, the air crisp, and the blades of grass slightly white and crunchy with frost. As MotherOwl tucked away the camera a flock of white swans flew over her head, their beating wings humming loudly.
Snemand Frost og frøken Tø
gik en tur ved Søndersø ...
(Halfdan Rasmussen
Snowman Frost and Lady Thaw
Took a walk around the lake ...

Stadig ikke helt solopgang, men næste uge måske.
Still not quite Sunrise, but we'll be getting there.
Solopgang/solnedgang: 7:50/17:00, dagens længde 9:10, tiltaget 2:20

- - - -

      Og så kunne jeg ikke dy mig, men måtte oversætte hele verset om den bittersøde kærlighedshistorie mellem Snemand Forst og Frøken Tø.
     En hyldest til Halfdan Rasmussen, der ville være fylde 100 år den 29. januar i år.

I just could not leave it be. I had to translate the whole bitter-sweet poem of Lady Thaw and Snowman Frost.
A tribute to the author Halfdan Rasmussen, whose 100 year's birthday was on 29th of January.

Snemand Frost og Frøken Tø                         Snowman Frost and Lady Thaw
gik en tur ved Søndersø                                  Took a walk around the lake,
fandt en bænk og slog sig ned,                        Found a bench where they sat down,
talte lidt om kærlighed.                                  Talked of love, of Kings and crowns

Snemand Frost, som var lidt bleg,                  Snowman Frost in whispers low,
spurgte:" Må jeg kysse dig?"                          Begged a kiss from Lady Thaw.
Men da frøken Tø var varm                           But the Lady Thaw was warm
smeltede hans højre arm.                                Melted off his nearest arm

Da han kyssed' hendes kind,                           When he kissed her rosy cheek,
svandt han ganske langsomt ind.                     He grew slowly less and weak
Da han kyssed' hendes mund                          When he kissed her glowing lips,
blev han væk i sammen stund.                        Off he went in tender drips.

På en bænk ved Søndersø                                On the bench beside the lake
sidder stakkels frøken Tø.                                Lady Thaw now keeps her wake.
Snemand Frost er smeltet op.                          Snowman Frost has melted, but.
Hun må ha ham i en kop!                                She has caught him in a cup!

Tekst: Halfdan Rasmussen
Oversættelse: Uglemor - Translation: MotherOwl

2 kommentarer:

  1. Uglemor,

    Thank you for getting out of bed and snapping this photo. I look forward to this weekly feature. Oh I wish I could have seen those white swans. One year we spent a week at Swan Lake, which is a couple of hours' drive away on the coast. There were flocks of black swans there. I tried many times to get some good photos but I was never quick enough, or they were too far away to get a clear picture. The poem made me smile!

    SvarSlet
    Svar
    1. Thank you for your kind words. Black swans are a rare sight in these parts of the world. In the city of my childhood we had a castle with a moat with white and black swans. I wonder if they're still there.
      Halfdan Rasmussen is a great poet for smiles. He's beloved by children and grown ups for his play with language and words. The translation is my own. After I finished, I fould out that an English version exists - the first lines are identica - but I like mine the best. I find it more childish - as it should be - and more faithful to the original, but my rhymes ar a bit off.

      Slet

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