This website is using cookies

We use cookies to ensure that we give you the best experience on our website. If you continue without changing your settings, we'll assume that you are happy to receive all cookies on this website. 

Plath, Sylvia: Mesiac a tis (The Moon and the Yew Tree in Slovak)

Portre of Plath, Sylvia

The Moon and the Yew Tree (English)

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary

The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue.

The grasses unload their griefs on my feet as if I were God

Prickling my ankles and murmuring of their humility

Fumy, spiritous mists inhabit this place.

Separated from my house by a row of headstones.

I simply cannot see where there is to get to.

 

The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right,

White as a knuckle and terribly upset.

It drags the sea after it like a dark crime; it is quiet

With the O-gape of complete despair. I live here.

Twice on Sunday, the bells startle the sky --

Eight great tongues affirming the Resurrection

At the end, they soberly bong out their names.

 

The yew tree points up, it has a Gothic shape.

The eyes lift after it and find the moon.

The moon is my mother. She is not sweet like Mary.

Her blue garments unloose small bats and owls.

How I would like to believe in tenderness -

The face of the effigy, gentled by candles,

Bending, on me in particular, its mild eyes.

 

I have fallen a long way. Clouds are flowering

Blue and mystical over the face of the stars

Inside the church, the saints will all be blue,

Floating on their delicate feet over the cold pews,

Their hands and faces stiff with holiness.

The moon sees nothing of this. She is bald and wild.

And the message of the yew tree is blackness - blackness and silence.

 

   

 



Uploaded bySebestyén Péter
Source of the quotationhttps://genius.com/Sylvia-plath-the-moon-and-the-yew-tree-annotated

Mesiac a tis (Slovak)

Je to svetlo vedomia, chladné a potulné.

Čierne sú stromy mysle. Svetlo je belasé.

Pažite mi k nohám kladú žiaľ, ako by som bol Boh.

Do členkov pichajú a huhňajú o vlastnej poníženosti.

Čmudiace liehové pary obývajú toto miesto.

Od môjho domu ho delí šík náhrobných kameňov.

Lenže nevidím, odtiaľto kam mám ísť.



Mesiac nie sú dvere. Je to tvár sama osebe,

Belostná ako ohyb a úctyhodne pohnutá.

Uchváti k sebe more ako bezdný zločin; je tichý

Beznádejne zíva Oh. Tu žijem.

V nedeľu zvončeky dvakrát naľakajú báň --

Osem obrovských jazykov potvrdí Zmŕtvychvstanie.

Záverom, triezvo zacvendžia svoje mená.



Tis ukazuje nahor, má gotický tvar.

Oči sa zdvihnú po nej a nájdu mesiac.

Mesiac je moja matka. Nie je láskyplný ako Mária.

Jeho belasé odevy prepúšťajú drobné netopiere a sovy.

Akoby som veril v citlivosť -

V tvár podobizne, znežnenú sviecami,

Skláňajúcu svoje úzkostlivé oči osobitne ku mne.



Celú večnosť som padal. Mraky sú posypané kvetmi

Belasé a mystické nad tvárou hviezd.

Vo svätyni budú všetci svätí iste belasí,

Plachtia na krehkých nohách nad chladné lavice,

Ich ruky a tváre sú svätosťou strnulé.

Mesiac z toho nič nevidí. Je lysý a divý.

A posolstvo, ktoré zanechá tis, je čerň - čerň a ticho.



Uploaded byRépás Norbert
Source of the quotationtranslator

minimap