23 Nisan 2017 Pazar

Rainer Maria Rilke / Du im Voraus

DU IM VORAUS

Du im Voraus
verlorne Geliebte, Nimmergekommene,
nicht weiß ich, welche Töne dir lieb sind.
Nicht mehr versuch ich, dich, wenn das Kommende wogt,
zu erkennen. Alle die großen
Bilder in mir, im Fernen erfahrene Landschaft,
Städte und Türme und Brücken und un-
vermutete Wendung der Wege
und das Gewaltige jener von Göttern
einst durchwachsenen Länder:
steigt zur Bedeutung in mir
deiner, Entgehende, an.

Ach, die Gärten bist du,
ach, ich sah sie mit solcher
Hoffnung. Ein offenes Fenster
im Landhaus - , und du tratest beinahe
mir nachdenklich heran. Gassen fand ich, -
du warst sie gerade gegangen,
und die Spiegel manchmal der Läden der Händler
waren noch schwindlich von dir und gaben erschrocken
mein zu plötzliches Bild. - Wer weiß, ob derselbe
Vogel nicht hinklang durch uns
gestern, einzeln, im Abend?

Rainer Maria Rilke

Aus: Die Gedichte 1910 bis 1922 (Paris, Winter 1913/14)





YOU WHO NEVER ARRIVED

You who never arrived
in my arms, Beloved, who were lost
from the start,
I don't even know what songs
would please you. I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of the next
moment. All the immense
images in me-- the far-off, deeply-felt landscape,
cities, towers, and bridges, and unsuspected
turns in the path,
and those powerful lands that were once
pulsing with the life of the gods-
all rise within me to mean
you, who forever elude me.

You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window
in a country house--, and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me.
Streets that I chanced upon,--
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and, startled,
gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows?
perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, seperate, in the evening...

(Paris, Winter 1913/14)

Rainer Maria Rilke

Translated by Stephen Mitchell





YOU, BELOVED, WHO WERE LOST...

You, beloved, who were lost
before the beginning, who never came,
I do not know which sounds might be precious to you.
No longer do I try to recognize you, when, as a surging wave,
something is about to manifest. All the huge
images in me, the deeply-sensed far-away landscapes,
cities and towers and bridges and un-
suspected turns of the path,
the powerful life of lands
once filled with the presence of gods:
all rise with you to find clear meaning in me,
your, forever, elusive one.

You, who are all
the gardens I've ever looked upon,
full of promise. An open window
in a country house—, and you almost stepped
towards me, thoughtfully. Sidestreets I happened upon,—
you had just passed through them,
and sometimes, in the small shops of sellers, the mirrors
were still dizzy with you and gave back, frightened,
my too sudden form.—Who is to say if the same
bird did not resound through us both
yesterday, separate, in the evening?

(Paris, Winter 1913/14)

Rainer Maria Rilke





TÚ QUE NUNCA LLEGASTE

Tú que nunca llegaste
a mis brazos, querido, a quien perdí­
desde el principio.
Ni siquiera sé qué canciones
te habrí­an gustado. He renunciado incluso a tratar
de reconocerte en la repentina ola
del próximo momento. Todas mis inmensas
imágenes – el lejano y sentido paisaje
ciudades, torres y puentes, e inesperados
giros en el camino,
y aquellas poderosas tierras que una vez
latieron con la vida de los dioses;
todos ellos se alzan dentro de mí­
refiriéndose a ti, siempre esquivo.

Tú, querido, que eres todos
los jardí­nes que siempre he contemplado,
añorante. Una ventana abierta
en una casa de campo- y tú casi
fuera, soñando con encontrarme.
Calles por las que pasé una vez-
que tú acababas de recorrer ya desaparecido.
Y a veces, en las tiendas, los escaparates
aún están impregnados de tu presencia para, súbitamente,
devolver mi reflejo. ¿Quién sabe?
Quizás el mismo pájaro resonó a través de ambos
ayer, separados, al atardecer…

Rainer Maria Rilke

https://www.lautreamont.net/2008/03/24/tu-que-nunca-llegaste/





SEN DAHA BAŞINDAN

Sen kollarıma asla gelmemiş sevgili,
sen yitirilmiş olan daha başından,
senin hangi şarkılar gider hoşuna
hiç öğrenemedim. Vazgeçtim ben seni
gelecek anın kabaran dalgaları içinde
tanımaya çabalamaktan. İçimdeki
tüm uçsuz bucaksız imgeler - - çok uzaktaki
derinliğine hissedilen peyzaj,
şehirler, kuleler, köprüler ve patikaların tahmin-
edilmedik dönemeçleri
ve şu bir vakitler nabzı tanrıların hayatıyla atan
kudretli topraklar - -
tümü, beni her zaman atlatan seni
anlamlandırmak için içimden yükselirler.

Sen, sevgili, daima hasretle seyrettiğim
bahçelersin sen. Bir kır evinde
açık bir pencere - -, ve sen daha yeni
atmışsın adımını dışarı, dalgın düşünceli
karşılamak için beni. Rast gele geçtiğim sokaklar, - -
sen onlarda az önce yürümüş ve gözden kaybolmuşsun.
Ve bazen, bir dükkanda, aynalar hala sersemlemiş
olurlardı senin orada bulunmuş olmandan, irkilmiş
geri verirlerdi benim çok ani hayalimi.Kim bilir? belki de
aynı kuş yankılanıyordu içimizden ikimizin de
ayrı ayrı, dün akşam.

(Paris, Kış 1913/14)

Rainer Maria Rilke

Çeviri: Osman Tuğlu


Photo by David Dubnitskiy

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