Very few people would need an introduction to Lewis Carroll and his absurd sense of humor--but just try to translate it! I have to admit though that this project was a lot of fun, and I had to invent about half of it, and try to stay true to the spirit of the original. Even so, I have a couple of really lame rhymes in there--oh well. That's partially due to the fact that I don't have access to a decent Romanian rhyme dictionary, so...yeah. Sometimes, I have to say, I was less preoccupied with a faithful translation and more with duplicating the same sense of the absurd.
It gave me a good chuckle, and I hope it does the same for you:
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I'LL TELL THEE EVERYTHING I CAN by: Lewis Carroll (1832-1898) I'LL tell thee everything I can; There's little to relate, I saw an aged, aged man, A-sitting on a gate. "Who are you, aged man?" I said. "And how is it you live?" And his answer trickled through my head Like water through a sieve. He said, "I look for butterflies That sleep among the wheat; I make them into mutton-pies, And sell them in the street. I sell them unto men," he said, "Who sail on stormy seas; And that's the way I get my bread-- A trifle, if you please." But I was thinking of a plan To dye one's whiskers green, And always use so large a fan That they could not be seen. So, having no reply to give To what the old man said, I cried, "Come, tell me how you live!" And thumped him on the head. His accents mild took up the tale; He said, "I go my ways, And when I find a mountain-rill, I set it in a blaze; And thence they make a stuff they call Rowland's Macassar Oil-- Yet twopence-halfpenny is all They give me for my toil." But I was thinking of a way To feed one's self on batter, And so go on from day to day Getting a little fatter. I shook him well from side to side, Until his face was blue, "Come, tell me how you live," I cried, "And what it is you do!" He said, "I hunt for haddocks' eyes Among the heather bright, And work them into waistcoat-buttons In the silent night. And these I do not sell for gold Or coin of silvery shine, But for a copper halfpenny, And that will purchase nine. "I sometimes dig for buttered rolls, Or set limed twigs for crabs; I sometimes search the grassy knolls For wheels of hansom-cabs. And that's the way" (he gave a wink) "By which I get my wealth-- And very gladly will I drink Your honor's noble health." I heard him then, for I had just Completed my design To keep the Menai bridge from rust By boiling it in wine. I thanked him much for telling me The way he got his wealth, But chiefly for his wish that he Might drink my noble health. And now, if e'er by chance I put My fingers into glue, Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot Into a left-hand shoe, Or if I drop upon my toe A very heavy weight, I weep, for it reminds me so Of that old man I used to know-- Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow, Whose hair was whiter than the snow, Whose face was very like a crow, With eyes, like cinders, all aglow, Who seemed distracted with his woe, Who rocked his body to and fro, And muttered mumblingly and low, As if his mouth were full of dough, Who snorted like a buffalo-- That summer evening long ago, A-sitting on a gate. |
Ţi-oi zice tot ce pot să-ţi spun de Lewis Carroll (1832-1898) Ţi-oi zice tot ce pot să-ţi spun; Nu-i mult de relatat Am întâlnit un om bătrân, Pe-o poartă, cocoţat “Tu cine eşti, bătrâne?”-am spus, “Şi cum trăieşti tu oare?" Prin cap răspunsul mi s-a scurs Ca prin strecurătoare. A spus, “Eu caut fluturi, ştii, Prin grâne, în ogradă; Îi coc pe toţi în dulci iahnii, Şi-i vând la colţ de stradă. Îi vând la oameni ce pe-ocean Înfruntă brav furtuna— Şi-aşa câştig şi eu un ban Sau pâinea—e totuna.” Dar eu visam la favoriţi, Să îi vopsesc în verde, De-un mare evantai umbriţi, Să nu se poată vede. Şi ce să zic? N-aveam poveşti Ca acel bătrân ţap, Zbierat-am, “Spune-mi cum trăieşti!” Şi i-am tras una-n cap. Cu un accent uşor grotesc, El zise, “Merg pe drum Izvor de munte când găsesc Îl trec prin foc şi fum; Aşa se face-al lui Rowland Ulei de Macassar— Insă primesc numai un cent, Şi munca-mi e-n zadar. Dar eu visam un plan: un fel De cocă-n loc de hrană, Ca zi de zi să fim niţel Mai graşi şi mai cu slană. Mai viguros l-am scuturat --S-a-nvineţit la faţă! “Zi-mi cum trăieşti!” iar am urlat, “Ce faci de dimineaţă?” El zise, “Colo-n buruieni Vânez ochi de batog, Nasturi de vestă fac din ei, La mine în bârlog. Şi nu îi vând, bagă de seamă, Pe aur sau argint, Ci doar pe un bănuţ de-aramă Dau nouă—zău nu mint! Sap după chiflele cu unt, Pun clăpci de crabi în crâng, Şi dealuri bat cu pas mărunt Roţi de căruţi să strâng. Şi uite-aşa,” zise şiret, “Am adunat parale. Cu drag voi bea, doar am bănet, În cinstea dumitale.” L-am auzit, căci să termín Putusem a mea schemă: Podul Menai să-l fierb în vin, Ferindu-l de rugină. I-am mulţumit c-a povestit Cum banii şi-i făcea, Dar mai ales că şi-a dorit Să bea în cinstea mea. Şi-acum, dacă vreodată-mi pun În clei a mele deşte, Or dau să vâr, ca un nebun, Piciorul stâng în cleşte, Sau dacă scap peste picior O piatră foarte grea, Eu plâng, căci mi se face dor, De-acel bătrân încântător— Cu glasul bland, moleşitor, Cu părul alb ca neaua-n zbor, Cu nasul cârn, puţin cam chior, Cu ochi arzând scânteietor, Cu gând umbrit de câte-un nor, Ce trupu-şi legăna, uşor, Şi mormăia încetişor, Cu limba prinsă în mosor Şi fornăind ca un porcuşor De mult, în luna lui Cuptor, Şezând pe-o poartă-n şa. |
