Dante Alighieri. Vertaling in Afrikaans

 

Dante Alighieri. Vertaling van Italiaans via Engels in Afrikaans. Vert. deur Bester Meyer.

 

Sestina van Pietra degli Scrovigni

 

Ek het opgeklim na die skemerlig en groot

skadusirkel, na die witwordende heuwels,

Dáár waar geen kleur in die gras is nie.

Tog sal my begeerte nie sy groen verloor nie,

Dit het só wortel geskiet in die geharde klip van

Praat en luister dat dit vanselfsprekend ʼn vrou was.

 

Die jeugdige dame was volkome bevrore,

Egalig soos die sneeu wat in die skadu rus;

Want sy word nie méér as klip bekoor deur

Die soet seisoen wat die heuwels verwarm nie

En sy verander hul opnuut van wit na groen

Deur alkant te bedek met blomme en met gras.

 

Wanneer sy ʼn graskroon op haar hoof kom neerlê

Het gedagte geen plek meer vir ander vrou nie,

Want sy weef die geel so meesterlik met groen

Dat Liefde haarself kom neervlei in die skadu, −

Liefde wat my vinniger ingekerker het tussen

die lae heuwels as tussen die granietsteenmure.

 

Sy is helderder as ʼn edelgesteente;

Geen kuur deur gras vir die letsels wat sy laat:

Daarom vlug ek ver oor die vlaktes en heuwels

Vir heenkome teen só ‘n gevaarlik vrou;

Maar uit haar lig kan daar geen skadu kaats, −

Geen heuwel geen muur geen somergroen.

 

ʼn Rukkie gelede was sy in groen getooi, −

Só beeldskoon dat sy hierdie liefde vir selfs

Haar skadukant uit die klip kan laat ontwaak;

En daarom, soos wat mens sal doen met bekoorlikheid,

Maak ek haar die hof in ʼn veld wat bloot nét gras was

Omring deur heuwels van hoë edelheid.

 

Tog sal die waterstrome terugdraai, die heuwels klim

Voordat Liefde se vuur hierdie klam hout en groen

Brand, soos dit binne ʼn jong vrou brand,

Vir my ontwil, wat sy lewe weg sal slaap

In klip, óf soos diere voed met gras,

Net om te sien hoe haar kledy ʼn skadu werp.

 

Hoe donker die heuwels ook al hul skadu kaats,

die beeldskoon vrou bedek dit als

in somergroen, soos klip verskuil in gras.

 

*

 

Sestina of the Lady Pietra degli Scrovigni

Dante Alighieri, Transl. by Gabriel Rossetti

 

To the dim light and the large circle of shade

I have clomb, and to the whitening of the hills,

There where we see no color in the grass.

Natheless my longing loses not its green,

It has so taken root in the hard stone

Which talks and hears as though it were a lady.

 

Utterly frozen is this youthful lady,

Even as the snow that lies within the shade;

For she is no more moved than is the stone

By the sweet season which makes warm the hills

And alters them afresh from white to green

Covering their sides again with flowers and grass.

 

When on her hair she sets a crown of grass

The thought has no more room for other lady,

Because she weaves the yellow with the green

So well that Love sits down there in the shade, –

Love who has shut me in among low hills

Faster than between walls of granite-stone.

 

She is more bright than is a precious stone;

The wound she gives may not be healed with grass:

I therefore have fled far o’er plains and hills

For refuge from so dangerous a lady;

But from her sunshine nothing can give shade, –

Not any hill, nor wall, nor summer-green.

 

A while ago, I saw her dressed in green, –

So fair, she might have wakened in a stone

This love which I do feel even for her shade;

And therefore, as one woos a graceful lady,

I wooed her in a field that was all grass

Girdled about with very lofty hills.

 

Yet shall the streams turn back and climb the hills

Before Love’s flame in this damp wood and green

Burn, as it burns within a youthful lady,

For my sake, who would sleep away in stone

My life, or feed like beasts upon the grass,

Only to see her garments cast a shade.

 

How dark soe’er the hills throw out their shade,

Under her summer green the beautiful lady

Covers it, like a stone cover’d in grass.

 

Bron: Poetry Foundation webruimte: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50358/sestina-of-the-lady-pietra-degli-scrovigni?mc_cid=2db9bfa2b3&mc_eid=358269e514

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Een Kommentaar op “Dante Alighieri. Vertaling in Afrikaans”

  1. Anna Bhakmatova :

    Meesterlik, Meevoerend, Mooi.
    Dankie
    Mme Bhakmatova
    (jammer vir die glips by die vorige ondertekening – die Russies en Afrikaans glip soms tussen my blonde vingers deur, hier waar ek as ou bruid smagtend na my moertaal en vaerland op die Steppe stoksiel-sit…)

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