Nòvas d’Occitània    Nòvas d'Occitània 2014

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Nòvas n.139 Novembre 2014

Emily Dickinson, poesie N. 974-978-985-1031-1046-1048-1053-1101

Emily Dickinson, poesias N. 974-978-985-1031-1046-1048-1053-1101

Rubrica di letteratura "Chaminar e Pensar" traduzione in lingua occitana a cura di Peyre Anghilante

Emily Dickinson, poesie N. 974-978-985-1031-1046-1048-1053-1101
English

974

The Soul's distinct connection
With immortality
Is best disclosed by Danger
Or quick Calamity –

As Lightning on a Landscape
Developes Sheets of Place –
Not yet suspected – but for Flash –
And Click – and Suddenness.



978

It bloomed and dropt, a Single Noon –
The Flower – distinct and Red –
I, passing, thought another Noon
Another in it's stead

Will equal glow, and thought no More
But came another Day
To find the Species disappeared –
The Same Locality –

The Sun in place – no other fraud
On Nature's perfect Sum –
Had I but lingered Yesterday –
Was my retrieveless blame –

Much Flowers of this and further Zones
Have perished in my Hands
For seeking it's Resemblance –
But unapproached it stands –

The single Flower of the Earth
That I, in passing by
Unconscious was – Great Nature's Face
Passed infinite by Me –



985

The Missing All – prevented Me
From missing minor Things.
If nothing larger than a World's
Departure from a Hinge
Or Sun's Extinction, be observed
'Twas not so large that I
Could lift my Forehead from my work
For Curiosity.



1031

Fate slew Him, but He did not drop –
She felled – He did not fall –
Impaled Him on Her fiercest stakes –
He neutralized them all –

She stung Him – sapped His firm Advance –
But when Her Worst was done
And He – unmoved regarded Her –
Acknowledged Him a Man –



1046

I've dropped my Brain – My Soul is numb –
The Veins that used to run
Stop palsied – 'tis Paralysis
Done perfecter on stone –

Vitality is Carved and cool –
My nerve in Marble lies –
A Breathing Woman
Yesterday – Endowed with Paradise.

Not dumb - I had a sort that moved –
A Sense that smote and stirred –
Instincts for Dance - a caper part –
An Aptitude for Bird -

Who wrought Carrara in me
And chiselled all my tune
Were it a Witchcraft - were it Death -
I've still a chance to strain

To Being, somewhere - Motion - Breath -
Though Centuries beyond,
And every limit a Decade -
I'll shiver, satisfied.



1048

Reportless Subjects, to the Quick
Continual addressed –
But foreign as the Dialect
Of Danes, unto the rest.

Reportless Measures, to the Ear
Susceptive - stimulus –
But like an Oriental Tale
To others, fabulous –



1053

It was a quiet way –
He asked if I was his –
I made no answer of the Tongue
But answer of the Eyes –

And then he bore me high
Before this mortal noise
With swiftness as of Chariots
And distance, as of Wheels.

The World did drop away
As Counties - from the feet
Of Him that leaneth in Balloon
Upon an Ether Street.

The Gulf behind was not,
The Continents were new –
Eternity it was before
Eternity was due.

No Seasons were to us –
It was not Night nor Noon –
But Sunrise stopped upon the Place

And fastened it in Dawn.



1101

Between the form of Life and Life
The difference is as big
As Liquor at the Lip between
And Liquor in the Jug
The latter – excellent to keep –
But for extatic need
The corkless is superior –
I know for I have tried

occitan

974

La neta connexion de l’anma

embe l’immortalitat

es mielh revelaa dal perilh

o da un’imprevista calamitat.

Coma l’esleuç dedins un païsatge

mostra de cants de luecs

ren suspectats, senon per la lusor,

e lo clacament, e lo subit.



978


Floriet e passiet, un solet metzjorn –

la flor, neta e rossa.

Mi, en passant pensero que, un autre metzjorn,

un autra a sa plaça auria brilhat


dal mesme biais, e lhi pensero pus.

Mas venguet un autre jorn

e trobero l’espècia despareissua:

lo luec, lo mesme,


lo solelh a son pòst, ni d’autre engan

dins lo còmpte exact de la natura.

Se ier auguesse solament esitat,

era mon blaime van.


Ben de flors d’aqueste e d’autri climas

son perits dedins mas mans

ne’n cerchant un semblable,

mas el resta ineigalat.


La flor unenca de la tèrra

a la quala passero da cant

inconscient que la granda chara de la natura

passet infinia da cant a mi.



985


La mancança de tot me prevenguet

da la mancança de causas minoras.

se se passava pas ren de mai grand

d’un mond que se desgofonava,

o de l’escantiment dal solelh, pas ren

era tan grand per que mi

polguesse auçar mon frònt da mon trabalh

per curiositat.



1031


La sòrt lo frapet, mas el branlet pas;

L’abatet, mas el tombet pas,

lo trapasset embe las ponchas mai aguas

e el las neutralizet totas.


Lo ponhet, flaquet sa fèrma avançada,

mas quora auguet pro enfuriat

e el l’agachet impassible

en el conoisset un ver òme. 



1046


Ai pausat mon cervèl – mon anma es encremesia –

las venas qu’escorrion an quitat

de pulsar – aquesta es una paràlisi

que s’es perfecionaa sus la peira.


La vitalitat es escultaa e freida –

mi nièrvis jason dins lo marmo –

e pura ier ero una frema

que respirava, qu’avia agut en dòt lo paradís.


Ren muta, qualquaren se bojava dins mi,

un sens que me secoïa e m’atissava –

un instint de dança, una part da cabriòla,

un gaubi d’ aucèl.


Qui escolpiet Carrara en mi

e ciselet ma melodia

sie estat un enchantament – o la mòrt –

ai encara un’ocasion per provar

a èsser – qui sa ente – un moviment,

un respir – bèla se après de sècles,

chasque sosta una decada – a la fin

tramolarei, satisfacha.



1048


Discors indefinibles, ai vius

d’un contun adreçats,

mas estrangiers coma lo dialèct

di danés, per d’autri.

Mesuras indefiniblas, a l’auvit

susceptible – estímul –

mas una legenda d’Orient

per d’autri, fabulosa.



1053


Embe un biais tranquil

me demandet se ero sia.

Respondero pas embe las labras

mas respondero embe lhi uelhs.

E puei el m’enaucet

denant lo bruire di mortals

a la vitessa coma de carrossa

e la distança de roas.

Lo mond se destachet al dessot de nos

coma la tèrra dessot lhi pè

de qui se mostra da un balon

sus las vias de l’etèr.

L’avenc darreire nos existia pas,

lhi avia de nòus continents.

Era l’eternitat

derant de sa vengua.

Per nos pus gis de sasons –

Lhi avia pus ni la nuech ni lo metzjorn.

Lo solelh s’arrestet sus aquel luec

e lo fixet dedins l’alba.


1101


Entre la forma de la vita e la vita

La diferença es tan granda

coma entre liquor a las labras

e lo liquor dedins l’ànfora.

Lo darrier es excellent a lo gardar,

mas per lhi besonhs de l’èxtasi

aquel sensa nata es superior –

lo sai perqué ai provat


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