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Sova, Antonín: A Song (Pisen in English)

Portre of Sova, Antonín

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Pisen (Czech)

Já housle vzal jsem v ruku
po letech doma zas!
Tak neuměle, tiše
zvuk nesmělý se třás!
Zvuk nesmělý se třás-
já hrát již zapomněl,
ó marno! vzpomínám si,
já hrát již zapomněl!

A v žádosti a touze
po měkkých houslích svých,
jež plakaly tak dlouze
za nocí měsíčních-
za nocí měsícních!-
já silnéj v struny vjel,
o marno, struna praskla,
já hrát již zapomněl!

I ta, jež ráda měla
můj hovor dumavý,
se ani nezachvěla,
zrak nevzplál pátravý!
Zrak nevzplál pátravy'
po letech, jaký žel!
Já zestár jsem a dávno
jsem líbat zapomněl!



A Song (English)

I took the fiddle in my hand:
for years had passed, and I was home.
Then faint and artless came the sound -
a timid, quavering tone!
A timid, quavering tone-
I had forgotten how to play.
So hopeless! I remembered then,
I had forgotten how to play.

And longing, oh so fervently
for the mellow, stringed delights
of that drawn-out weeping melody
from the distant, moonlit nights -
from the distant moonlit nights! -
I tried to make the strings obey.
So hopeless! For the string had snapped.
I had forgotten how to play.

And the one who loved my musings once,
and touched my words with grace,
she gave -no sign, made no response;
no radiance crossed her face.
No radiance crossed her face:
time brings its nemesis;
for years had passed and I was old.
I had forgotten how to kiss.




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