domenica 23 giugno 2013

...gasi s'iscurigore at a èssere sa lughe, e sa chietesa sa dansa

by T.S. Eliot
tràmudu de Nanni Falconi
I.
S'agabbu meu est in s’inghitzu meu. In su tempus
Verso dalla parte III (ndr)
Sas domos si fraigant e nde falant, nde ruent, benint ismanniadas,
Benint imboladas, destruidas, acontzas, o a su postu issoro
B'at unu campu abertu,o unu fraile, o unu bìviu.
Dae sa pedra betza fràigu nou, dae sa linna beja fogos noos,
Dae fogos betzos a chinisa, e dae sa chinisa a terra
Chi est giai petza, pedde e ledàmine,
Ossos de òmine e de bèstia, camba de trigu e fògias.
Sas domos bivint e morint: b'at unu tempus pro fraigare
E unu tempus pro campare e pro figiare
E unu tempus pro chi su bentu chimentet su balcone iscancaradu
E pro iscutinare su batiscopa in ue su sòrighe de campu trotat
E pro iscutinare s'aratzu lizinidu intèssidu cun d'unu silentziosu dìciu.

S’agabbu meu est s’inghitzu meu. Como sa lughe falat
De orveu in s’iscampiada, e lassat su tzirighinu incasciadu
Cugudadu de frasca, iscurosu a bortaedie,
In ue nos arrumbamus a sa tèrema cando passat su carru,
E su tzirighinu incasciadu sighit deretu
Fintzas a bidda, in s'elètrica calura
Ipnotizada. In su fumatzu caente sa lughe basca
benit surgida, non est reflessa, dae sa pedra mùrina.
Sas Dàlias drommint in su silèntziu bòidu.
Non s'at a istentare s'Istria chitzulana.
In cussu campu abertu

Si non bos acurtziades tropu, si non bos acurtziades tropu,
In unu mesanote de Istiu, podides intèndere sa mùsica
De sa trigili launedda e de su tumbarinu
E los bìdere dansende a inghìriu a su fogu
Su sòtziu de s'òmine e de sa fémina
In dansa, sigomente in afidu...
Unu sacramentu dèchidu e cumbeniente.
A duos a duos, annantura netzessària,
Muntenzende-si s'unu cun s'àteru pro sa manu o pro su bratzu
Dende a bìdere chi sunt in cuncòrdia. A inghíriu a inghíriu a su fogu
Brinchende sas pampas, o aunidos in tzìrculu,
In rùstica bàndesa o in rùsticu risu
Artziende sos pees presos in botes feos,
Pees de terra, pees de narvinu, artziados in paesana allegria,
Allegria de cussos dae tempus meda suta terra
A fàghere de addescu a su trigu. Atentos a su tempus,
Atentos a su rìtimu de sa dansa issoro
Che a sa bida issoro e a cussa de sas istajones
Su tempus de sas istajones e de sos isteddaghes
Su tempus de mùrghere e su tempus de messare
Su tempus de giùghere de s'òmine e de sa fémina
E cussu de sas bèstias. Pees artziende e falende.
Mandighende e bufende. Ledàmine e morte.

Essit su sole, un'àtera die
S'atrintzat a sa calura e a su silèntziu.

Cuddae, in su mare, su bentu de puddiles
incrispit e lassinat. Deo so inoghe
O cuddae, o in aterue. In s'inghitzu meu.


East Coker, by T.S. Eliot
I.

In my beginning is my end. In succession
Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,
Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place
Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.
Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,
Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth
Which is already flesh, fur, and faeces,
Bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf.
Houses live and die: there is a time for building
And a time for living and for generation
And a time for the wind to break the loosened pane
And to shake the wainscot where the field mouse trots
And to shake the tattered arras woven with a silent motto.

  In my beginning is my end.  Now the light falls
Across the open field, leaving the deep lane 
Shuttered with branches, dark in the afternoon,
Where you lean against a bank while a van passes,
And the deep lane insists on the direction 
Into the village, in the electric heat
Hypnotized. In a warm haze the sultry light
Is absorbed, not reflected, by grey stone.
The dahlias sleep in the empty silence.
Wait for the early owl.
                       In that open field

If you do not come too close, if you do not come too close,
On a summer midnight, you can hear the music 
Of the weak pipe and the little drum
And see them dancing around the bonfire
The association of man and woman 
In daunsinge, signifying matrimonie—
A dignified and commodiois sacrament.
Two and two, necessarye coniunction,
Holding eche other by the hand or the arm
Whiche betokeneth concorde. Round and round the fire
Leaping through the flames, or joined in circles,
Rustically solemn or in rustic laughter
Lifting heavy feet in clumsy shoes,
Earth feet, loam feet, lifted in country mirth
Mirth of those long since under earth
Nourishing the corn. Keeping time,
Keeping the rhythm in their dancing
As in their living in the living seasons
The time of the seasons and the constellations
The time of milking and the time of harvest
The time of the coupling of man and woman
And that of beasts.  Feet rising and falling.
Eating and drinking.  Dung and death.

  Dawn points, and another day
Prepares for heat and silence. Out at sea the dawn wind
Wrinkles and slides. I am here
Or there, or elsewhere. In my beginning.