Urmaii lui El - Zorab

El Zorab`s descendants

La paa vine un arab, Cu ochii stini, cu graiul slab. Sunt, pa, neam de beduin, i de la Bab-el-Manteb vin S-l vnd pe El-Zorab.

An Arab to pasha draws near, His eyesight dim and his voice sere. From Bedouins, pasha, I descend, From Bab-el-Mandeb I intend To sell El-Zorab here.

Arabii toi rsar din cort, S-mi vad roibul, cnd l port i-l joc n fru i-l las n trap! Mi-e drag ca ochii mei din cap i nu l-a da nici mort.

All Arabs leave their tents to see The way I walk my sorrel free, Or give him rein, or let him trot! I love him dearly and would not Give him, whateer may be!

Ai mei pierdui sunt, pa, toi! O, mntuie-i, de vrei, c poi! D-mi bani pe cal! C sunt srac! D-mi bani! Dac-l gseti pe plac, D-mi numai ct socoi!

My dear ones are too cruelly hit; O, save them, for you can do it! Gold for my horse! I am so poor! Gold! If you fancy him for sure, Give just as you think fit!

El poart calul, dnd ocol, n trap grbit, n pas domol, i ochii paei mari s-aprind; Crunta-i barb netezind, St mut, de suflet gol.

He walks the horse all around the place At hasty trot or easy pace; The pasha bulgy eyes burn bright, He strokes his grey beard with delight, Though dumb his soul and face.

O mie de echini primeti? O, pa, ct de darnic eti! Mai mult dect n visul meu! S-i rsplteasc Dumnezeu Aa cum mi plteti!

A thousand sequins you agree? How generous, pasha, you can be! More than I dreamt! May God the Lord Grant you the measure of reward By which you have paid me!

Arabul ia, cu ochii plini De zmbet, mia de echini De-acum, de-acum ei sunt scpai, De-acum vor fi i ei bogai, N-or cere la strini!

The Arab takes, with radiant eyes, The money that before him lies Henceforth theirs is a happy lot, Henceforth they are rich and will not Ask alms in any wise.

Nu vor tri sub cort n fum, Nu-i vor ceri copiii-n drum, Nevasta lui se va-ntrma; i vor avea i ei ce da Sracilor de-acum!

Nor live in the tents smoke again, Their kinds wont beg on road or lane, He and his wife, restored, will give A friendly coin to those who live In poverty and pain!

El strnge banii mai cu foc i pleac, beat de mult noroc, i-alearg dus d-un singur gnd; Deodat ns, tremurnd, Se-ntoarce, st pe loc.

Once more the sequins he does pluck, Then leaves, drunk with his piece of luck, And runs off as in duty bound, Yet of a sudden he turns round And stops like thunderstruck,

Se uit lung la bani, i pal Se clatin, ca dus de-un val Apoi la cal privete drept; Cu paii rari, cu fruntea-n piept, S-apropie de cal.

Stares at the money with spent force And staggers like a wave-tossed corpse, Then looks the sorrel in the eye; With measured steps and brow reared high He draws near his dear horse.

Cuprinde gtul lui plngnd i-n aspra-i coam ngropnd Obrajii palizi: Pui de leu, Suspin trist. Odorul meu, Tu tii c eu te vnd!

He weeps and does his neck enfold, And buries his face, pale and cold, Into his mane: My lion brave, You should sigh sadly. Im a knave You know you have been sold!

Copiii mei nu s-or juca Mai mult cu frunze-n coama ta, Nu te-or petrece la izvor; De-acum smochini, din mna lor, Ei n-or avea cui da!

My children will not play again With leaves and garlands in your mane. To springs they will not take you, and No more will feed they by the hand A horse with fig or grain!

Ei nu vor mai iei cu drag S-ntind minile din prag, S-i iau cu mine-n ea pe rnd! Ei nu vor mai iei rznd n calea mea irag!

No more will peep they out with glee, Reach forth their hands and summon me To sit them on your back; no more Will Indian files come to the fore And laugh with laughter free!

Copiii mei cum s-i mbun? Nevestei mele ce s-i spun Cnd va-ntreba de El-Zorab! Va rde-ntregul neam arab De bietul Ben-Ardun!

What, lie to children and not choke? And tell my wife what kind of joke When she asks of my friend, the best? Poor Ben-Ardun will be the jest Of all the Arab folk!

Raira, tu, nevasta mea, Pe El-Zorab nu-l vei vedea De-acum, urmndu-te la pas, Nici n genunchi la al tu glas El nu va mai cdea!

Raira, my wife dear and true, Our horse you shall not see anew, Hell no more follow you behind, Not hear your voice so mild and kind And kneel in front of you!

Pe-Ardun al tu, pe Ben-Ardun N-ai s-l mai vezi n zbor nebun Pe urma unui oim uor, Ca s-i mpute oimu-n zbor; Nu-i vei pofti: Drum bun!

Your dear Ardun, your Ben-Ardun Shall no more weep like a simoon After a falcon flying fleet And shoot it; neither will you greet And tell us, See you soon!

Nu vei zmbi, cum salt-n vnt Ardun al tu n alb vestmnt; i ca s simi sosirea lui, Mai mult de-acum tu n-o s pui Urechea la pmnt!

You shall no more seen my burnoose In the soft breezes flutter loose, No more put to the ground your ear And making sure that we are near To cry at the good news.

O, calul meu! Tu, fala mea, De-acum eu nu te voi vedea Cum ii tu nrile-n pmnt i coada ta fuior n vnt, n zbor de rndunea!

My horse! Ill no more have the right To watch your eyes, ever so bright, Your nostrils turned towards the ground, You tail by the simoon unwound. Your run a swallows flight!

Cum mesteci spuma alb-n fru, Cum joci al coamei galben ru, Cum iei pmntul n galop i cum te-aterni ca un potop De trsnete-n pustiu!

You chewed the white foam on the rein And shook your streaming golden mane And galloping with ringing hoof On the dry earth, looked like a sheaf Of lightnings on the plain!

tia pustiul de noi doi i zarea se-ngrozea de noi i tu de-acum al cui vei fi? i cine te va mai scuti De vnturi i de ploi?

The desert dreaded us; the blue Grew pale when heavenwards we flew From now on who will be your mate? From winds and rains and ill-starred fate Whoever will shield you?

Nu vor gri cu tine blnd, Te-or njura cu toi pe rnd i te vor bate,-odorul meu, i te-or purta i mult, i greu; Lsa-te-vor flmnd

Theyll talk to you in language rude And swear at you in vicious mood And beat you savagely, horse brave, And you shall toil and moil and slave And go without your food!

i te vor duce la rzboi, S mori tu, cel crescut de noi! Ia-i banii, pa! Sunt srac, Dar fr cal eu ce s fac? D-mi calul napoi!

And they will take you to the wars, You, never trained in warfare laws! Here is the money I have sought! Im poor, but without him Im nought; Bashaw, give back my horse!

Se-ncrunt paa: Eti nebun? Voieti pe ianiceri s-i pun S te de-a cinilor? Aa! E calul meu, i n-atepta De dou ori s-i spun!

The pasha frowns: Hes mad! Beware! The jenissaries, in a trice, Will set the dogs on you, I swear! It is my horse, so dont wait there For me to tell it twice!

Al tu? Acel care-l crescu, Iubindu-l, cine-i: eu ori tu? De dreapta cui ascult el, Din leu turbat fcndu-l miel? Al tu? O, pa, nu!

He yours? With love unmeasured, who Has reared him? Is it I or you? Whose hand obeys he? whose makes him A lamb out of a lion grim? Yours? No, that is not true!

Al meu e! Pentru calul meu M prind de piept cu Dumnezeu Ai inim! Tu poi s ai Mai vrednici i mai mndri cai, Dar eu, stpne, eu?

He is all mine! I would defy, For him, the very God on high! Do have a heart! Wheneer you need, You may take hold of the best steed; But I, dread pasha, I?

ntreag mila ta o cer! Alah e drept i-Alah din cer Va judeca ce-i ntre noi, C m rpeti i m despoi, M-arunci pe drum s pier.

Give me your greatest mercy, pray! Allah is just and He, I say, Will judge what is between us, He Knows youre a thief who will leave me Stark poor, for dogs a prey.

i lumea te va blstema, C-i blstem fptuirea ta! Voi merge, pa, s ceresc, Dar mila voastr n-o primesc Ce bine-mi poi tu da?

The world will bitterly curse you, For a curst thing is what you do! Ill go and beg though Im undone, Of your great mercy I want none; We know you through and through!

D paa semn: S-l dezbrcai i binele n vergi i-l dai! Sar eunucii, vin, l prind Se-ntoarce-arabul rsrind Cu ochii ngheai.

The pasha beckons. Undress him Let rods give him a proper trim! The eunuchs spring, leave him no chance, And he returns as in a trance, His eyes frozen and dim.

El scoate grabnic un pumnal, i-un val de snge, rou val De snge cald a izvort Din nobil-ncomatul gt, i cade mortul cal.

He drew the dagger, struck the head Of El-Zorab, a spirt of red, Of crimson-red, warm blood gushed out, Spilt on the neck and mane, throughout, And El-Zorab fell dead.

St paa beat, cu ochi topii, Se trag spahiii-ncremenii. i-arabul, n genunchi plecat, Srut sngele-nchegat Pe ochii-nepenii.

The pasha stares, a speechless wrack; The petrified spahees step back; The Arab, kneeling Eastern-wise, Kisses upon the lifeless eyes The clotted blood turned black.

S-ntoarce-apoi cu ochi pgni i-arunc fierul crunt din mini: Te-or rzbuna copiii mei! i-acum m taie, dac vrei, i-arunc-m la cni!

He turns then round with savage scowls, Throws down the deadly steel and howls: My children shall avenge you soon! Now, pasha, rack and cast Ardun To dogs and preying fowls!

Poem de George Cobuc poet romn

traducere de Leon Levichi

prezentare Lorin Nedef