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ADAM MICKIEWICZ
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06 Mar 2010 Sat 03:29 am |
Adam Mickiewicz, Poland´s greatest poet since Jan Kochanowski (1530-84) and Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski (1550-81), was born near Nowogrodek in present-day Minsk province in 1798, and educated at Vilna university, from which he was exiled to Russia for political activism. He joined writer´s circles in St. Petersburg and wrote a series of exquisite sonnets based on a visit to the Crimea in 1825. His verse tales Grazyna (1823) and Konrad Wallenrod (1828) introduce the Romantic themes of sacrifice, tragic loneliness of the hero and illicit love. The greater Pan Tadeusz (1834), set in Lithuania on the eve of Napoleon´s invasion of Russia, is a Homeric celebration of Poland´s identity. Mickiewicz left Russia in 1831, toured Europe (meeting Goethe and others) and settled in Paris. He became the leading representative of Slavonic literature after Pushkin´s death, but his many interests — politics, philology, mysticism — did not bring happiness or prosperity. His wife became insane, Poland remained partitioned, and Mickiewicz himself died of cholera in Istanbul in 1855, his remains being re-interred in Cracow Cathedral in 1890.
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06 Mar 2010 Sat 03:30 am |
Yıkıl Git Karşımdan
Yıkıl git karşımdan! Derhal itaat ederim! Yıkıl git kalbimden! Ve itaat eder kalbim dahi.
Yıkıl git hafızamdan! Yo! Ne benim ne senin hafızan dinlemez bu emri. Nice ıraktan düşerse onca uzun oluşu gibi gölgenin, Matem çemberi onca geniş kuşatacak çevreni, Nice ırağa kaçarsa şahsiyetim, Karartacak hafızanı onca kalın bir şalıyla matemin.
Her yerde ve her vakit Seninle ağladığım, seninle güldüğüm Yanında olacağım her yerde ve daima Bırakmışım zira her yerde canımdan bir parça.
Adam Mickiewicz
Çeviren: Dr. O. Fırat Baş
(English translation would be appreciated)
Edited (3/6/2010) by slavica
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06 Mar 2010 Sat 03:41 am |
GOODNIGHT
Goodnight! No more merriment for us today, May angels enfold you in blue wings of cheer, Goodnight! May your eyes ease after bitter tears, Goodnight! May your heart´s passion slumber away.
Goodnight! to moments of intimate replies, May a charming and soothing music surround, May it play in your ears, and whilst sleeping sound, Let my image so delight your sleepy eyes.
Goodnight. Turn around! Place your gaze in my keep, Permit a cheek-Goodnight!-For your butler you´ve clapped? Give me your bosom to kiss-Goodnight-so strapped.
Goodnight. You have run off and you want no more. Goodnight through the keyhole-sadly-a locked door! Repeating "goodnight!" I´d never let you sleep.
Translation by Barry
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06 Mar 2010 Sat 12:11 pm |
Mickiewicz is one of those "really important" people from the past that you have to learn about, but hate at the time because it doesn´t make too much sense to you - unless you are a literature fan. He certainly is an important figure in the context of the struggle of Polish people to stay together and work for the common goal of independence.
He died in Istanbul. An excerpt from Wikipedia about his last days:
"In 1855 Mickiewicz´s wife Celina died. On the outbreak of the Crimean War, he left his under-age children in Paris and went to Istanbul, Turkey, where he arrived 22 September 1855, to organize Polish forces to be used in the war against Russia. With his friend Armand Levy, a Romanian Jew, he set about organizing a Jewish legion, the Hussars of Israel, comprising Russian and Palestinian Jews. He returned ill to his apartment from a trip to a military camp and died on 26 November in his apartment on the Yenişehir street in Istanbul. The house where he lived in is now a museum."
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06 Mar 2010 Sat 01:28 pm |
I´ve heard that the museum closed because Polish government found it too expensive to support it. How pathetic is that? One of our most important poets and our governmet won´t pay for his museum...politics bleeeh
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06 Mar 2010 Sat 02:19 pm |
Get out of my sight! I´ll obey you right away! Get out of my heart! My heart will too.
Get out of my memory! No! Our brains shall not heed Like shadows falling taller from afar farther shall span the circle of grief that surrounds you No matter how far my soul escapes With its thick veil of grief, it will darken your memory
For I laughed and cried with you Everywhere, everytime I will always be with you
For I have left a piece of myself in all these places
Translated by Akin Ilicali
Edited (3/6/2010) by vineyards
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06 Mar 2010 Sat 04:21 pm |
Uncertainty by Adam Mickiewicz
While I don´t see you, I don´t shed a tear I never lose my senses when you´re near, But, with our meetings few and far between There´s something missing, waiting to be seen. Is there a name for what I´m thinking of? Are we just friends? Or should I call this love?
As soon as we have said our last good-byes, Your image never floats before my eyes; But more than once, when you have been long gone, I seemed to feel your presence linger on. I wonder then what I´ve been thinking of. Are we just friends? Or should I call this love?
When I´m downcast, I never seek relief By pouring out my heart in tales of grief; Yet, as I wander aimlessly, once more I somehow end up knocking at your door; What brought me here? What am I thinking of? Are we just friends? Or should I call this love?
I´d give my life to keep you sound and well, To make you smile, I would descend to hell; But though I´d climb the mountains, swim the seas I do not look to be your health and peace: Again I ask, what am I thinking of? Are we just friends? or should I call this love?
And when you place your hand upon my palm, I am enveloped in a blissful calm, Prefiguring some final, gentle rest; But still my heart beats loudly in my breast As if to ask: what are you thinking of? Are you two friends? or will you call this love?
Not bardic spirit seized my mortal tongue When I thought of you and composed this song; But still, I can´t help wondering sometimes: Where did these notions come from, and these rhymes? In heaven´s name, what I was dreaming of? And what had inspired me? Friendship or love?
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06 Mar 2010 Sat 07:45 pm |
Adam Mickiewicz statue in Cracow-the favourite meeting spot at the market.
Thank you all for the thread,but I am sleeping with Słowacki ´s poems now.He also deserves separate thread
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07 Mar 2010 Sun 12:12 am |
Get out of my sight! I´ll obey you right away! Get out of my heart! My heart will too.
Get out of my memory! No! Our brains shall not heed Like shadows falling taller from afar farther shall span the circle of grief that surrounds you No matter how far my soul escapes With its thick veil of grief, it will darken your memory
For I laughed and cried with you Everywhere, everytime I will always be with you
For I have left a piece of myself in all these places
Translated by Akin Ilicali
Thank you very much, vineyards
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07 Mar 2010 Sun 09:50 am |
Crimean Sonnets by Adam Mickiewicz
V: Mountains Seen from the Kozlov Steppes
The Pilgrim
Those heights! Did Allah thrust so sheer a sea of ice? Or throne of frosted mist for angesl cast? Sprites of a quartered continent make walls To claim for East the caravan of stars?
What echoes! Is Stamboul on fire? Or, when Night spread its dark chylat, did Allah, For worlds that nature´s ocean navigate, Hang central there in sky this great divide
The Mirza
Those Heights? I´ve been in winter´s nest there; seen The throated streams, beaked torrents, slake their thirst. I breathed and snow flew from my lips; I moved
Where clouds stopped dead, where eagles lost their way. I passed by thunder cradled in its shrouds Till one star lit my turban: Chatyr-dagh!
[transl. George Reavey]
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