Long Hearted Poems
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These are my English translations of songs sung by Dimash Kudaibergen.
This is my translation of one of my favorite Dimash Kudaibergen songs, the French song "S.O.S." ...
S.O.S.
by Michel Berger
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Why do I live, why do I die?
Why do I laugh, why do I cry?
Voicing the S.O.S.
of an earthling in distress ...
I have never felt at home on the ground.
I'd rather be a bird;
this skin feels weird.
I'd like to see the world turned upside down.
It ever was more beautiful
seen from up above,
seen from up above.
I've always confused life with cartoons,
wishing to transform.
I feel something that draws me,
that draws me,
that draws me
UP!
In the great lotto of the universe
I didn't draw the right numbers.
I feel unwell in my own skin,
I don't want to be a machine
eating, working, sleeping.
Why do I live, why do I die?
Why do I laugh, why do I cry?
I feel I'm catching waves from another world.
I've never had both feet on the ground.
This skin feels weird.
I'd like to see the world turned upside down.
I'd rather be a bird.
Sleep, child, sleep ...
"Late Autumn" aka "Autumn Strong"
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
based on the version sung by Dimash Kudaibergen
Autumn ...
The feeling of late autumn ...
It feels like golden leaves falling
to those who are parting ...
A glass of wine
has stirred
so many emotions swirling in my mind ...
Such sad farewells ...
With the season's falling leaves,
so many sad farewells.
To see you so dispirited pains me more than I can say.
Holding your hands so tightly to my heart ...
... Remembering ...
I implore you to remember our unspoken vows ...
I dare bear this bitterness,
but not to see you broken-hearted!
All contentment vanishes like leaves in an autumn wind.
Meeting or parting, that's not up to me.
We can blame the wind for our destiny.
I do not fear my own despair
but your sorrow haunts me.
No one will know of our desolation.
Keywords: Dimash, song, lyric, translation, lullaby, SOS, S.O.S., autumn, strong, fall, earth, earthling, bird, world, distress, cartoon, cartoons, sleep
Never understood why my family had
hate and contempt for one another,
definitely not wanting to be together.
Never felt like home as a child
only relentless worry and fear,
rejected in an unsafe place.
Never felt a sense of belonging although
I made many attempts to find my place
after being cast out of our family home.
Never grasped why not having a family
deterred so many people I met over the
years from having a relationship with me.
Never felt like home while moving from
one place to another feeling unwanted
and discarded living alone in New York.
Never had feelings of a home even though
there were countless people around me on
the streets, I existed as a solitary person.
Never had feelings of home in Florida either
though my mom and brother were there
I was abandoned once again, living in exile.
Never knowing if a cold-hearted family,
and an abusive childhood made it hopeless
in finding an honest-to-goodness home.
In another strange and desolate place,
Arizona this time, alienated living as a
recluse, once again this is not my home.
Never expected with moving to these
other states that the people I met would
hold my New York upbringing against me.
Never imagined that uprooting my life
numerous times to find a home
would leave me in such isolation.
Never imagined I would live my entire
life without a caring family instead I’m
living without any significant roots.
Never thought roaming from place to place in
a vague and impulsive way would cause
feelings of emptiness instead of a home.
Never knowing if the two homes I provided
for my only child, my sweet son, did he feel
the inadequacy of a sincere loving home too?
Nowadays, I wonder if I was meant to
stay in New York and etch out a life
that was practical while still feeling vacant.
Never thought living so far away from New York
would make me feel so lost not knowing
where I belong, and still can’t find home.
Never finding my home has me wondering if
there is something I’m missing or am I always
at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Praying I make it to Heaven so I can finally
feel cherished and be at a sincere place
and in a truly devoted home.
Hark… hark… hear my voice, a mere leftover refrain
Never can you see me, I’ve no form left to gain
Look up… look up… and miss me, resound with the air
Don’t take my loss for granted, only spells despair
Grief… grief… counts for nothing, on the flip side of love
Pinpointing its vector, may bring hope from above
Crunch… crunch… the numbers, add symbols in lower case
Headstones of algebra, surround my resting place
Wait… wait… I hear cries, emanating at my grave
Broken hearted loved ones, so many tears they gave
Listen.. listen… up, your mourning’s setting me free
This life snuffed out, echoes down through eternity
Hush… hush… my darling, pillows muffle as you sleep
Pull tight the sheets and love me, inside dreams so deep
Hello moon bitten... one
Unsmiling... one
Dialing up the darkness... one
Where is my peace nest at... one
So ...so very restless... one
Desert tumbleweed... one
Crashing into the foothills of love... one
Loved ones watching you self-devouring... one
The truth of your miracle lies in the mire... one
Cherry blossom winged... one
Cascading to the ocean floor... one
Lantern fish shattering the blackness... one
Swimming up from the darkness... one
Soul of stardust and gemstone-hearted...one
Donning the shawl of sunlight... one
Sunlit... one
I love you beyond my death...my number one
October/2017
I long to dance and chant around the orange crackling fire in front of my tribe, the Sioux
Hot humid July night.
Sweat and passion.
Kick up the dust from my ancestors teachings.
Yip and scream my heart's desire.
We are one.
God is to be feared.
He made us to be revered.
Join me, won't you?
Release your fear, worry, and doubt! And dance and shout!
Celebrate this hallowed night.
The elders gather.
The youngin's bob and scoot.
This is sacred time.
Sacred land.
Our stomachs full of nurturing food from the creator.
Bears, wolves, mountain lions dare not enter our camp.
We are the danger.
The Chief and Medicine Man nod from across the fire.
The warriors dance.
The princess' prance.
Great design?
Or all by chance?
In time an arms length away
I flew into the bird cage
Seeking a nest, following the others
As we connected and made it homely
The bars changed into windows
And doors
Then a place where we were all happy, together
Now, after two years of friendships, new and old
The cage-turned-community, near-sighted
Closed its eyes and turning away from the inevitable
Then the day hit 25
Everyone, dressed up
Dancing our hearts away
Turning blind eyes to the looming warmth of hottest season
Then the lights turned on
And the music stopped
Our hearts stopped too
Our eyes losing their lids, forced to witness the end
Our hearts, reminiscing
One by one, each bird left the nest, heavy-hearted
All unready, some with resignation, some with acceptance, to migrate so soon
Some flapping off together in search of new things
Others flying off to new nests
Even some soaring off alone
Leaving the hollowed nest
For the next generation to find and transform
So even if we meet new birds and find a new nest
We will never forget Our Nest
I need another doe-eyed Doña Lola,
a tungsten-hearted torturer of men.
I crave a further fling at love’s tombola,
to beard the lioness inside her den.
Of course, it always runs into the buffers:
their sex is unremitting, unforgiving:
but he is truly fortunate who suffers:
to be in love again – that’s really living!
She must have bags of charm, and must deploy it.
I want to give my heart, have her destroy it,
or better still, to gouge it from my chest,
for when my love is spurned, I’m at my best.
I get to pout and pose, and blue-eyed-boy it:
and if the truth be told, I quite enjoy it!
This is one fine place for a stray....
Even if only for a one-moon stay.
No tight roping a burning fence.
No barkers belittling until I'm deaf.
The sun and shade treating me equally.
No red-hatted gnomes flicking daisies at me.
There're endless dips and nicks where I can hide.
Close my Egyptian Isis eyes and drift far away.
This is one fine place for a stray...
Oh yes.
The gray one reminds me of what I once had.
Good grub, rubber mouse, a good-hearted laugh.
A calloused hand to steady my midnight silhouette.
A wobble and sashay into that wildflower land.
Matter of fact, he once had a silky window cat.
Oh yes.
Lately he's been leaving tasty bits of food,
A rainwater bowl, a silly rubber mouse to chew.
But I'm much too gray for those kittenish games.
Maybe I'll give it a swat or two but only for his sake....
Oh yes.
Maybe, someday he'll let me in that big fancy shed.
Then I could rid myself of this purr-dicament.
Spend my final days in sweet, carefree opulence.
But trust is a precarious and most fragile thing.
Like a glass cat knickknack on the banks
of a dog-legged stream.
Oh yes. Oh yes.
Haven't seen the gray-caned one for many a day.
The raccoons cracked open my bowl of water rain.
The golden grass is bent and long overgrown.
Mr. bull thistle is kissing the Lady of the rose.
Maybe the gray one is searching both hi and low
for that mother of pearl in a forever home.
Oh no. Oh no!
Never wishing to even
consider wanting it:
possession of it devalued
her belief that which is
best represented her worth
to what she was doing and those
accomplishments she was ready
to achieve
the schism came from one wishing
to gain at the expense of the other
then what was best for him was
clearly not best for her
her representation was in clear
contrast to his
obviously they both wanted best for
there company but it jived with the
people who stood divided
wishing neither to united or
regathered
the strength in numbers
would solve nothing only
to chill the tempered room
because outside
was hot from the nature
of things all kinetic
the active dynamic was his
want for her to see Nordic Gold as
a means of accomplishment
that he wished to trophy
and create a prize a masterpiece
for the ages using a lesser valued
ingredient : she stood opposed
with the thinking that the Pure Gold
Championed and Hearted the home
That it speaks to the
eternal want and desire
to be best in cause it respresents
the search and discovery portion and claim
of prospecting!
He responded with Yet it lacks the
the knowingness of realism
that once losted it may never be found
the security of possion lacking
the full emptiness of lost.
Che e' la figa e' scopata
Shells
Empty shells on the beach,
telling stories of small creatures...
here and gone.
The beauty of their passing,
not lost on the open-hearted.
Love comes and goes.
It hurts all the time.
You can not live without it.
You can barely live with it.
Time is moving too fast.
We need a place to slow down,
and consider the day.
Nowhere on the path is there
a chance for respite.
There is only the landscape...
speeding by,
or is I that am going...
too fast?
I long to know what tomorrow is...
The night has not been kind.
The clock on the wall is past the hour,
but the light of dawn has not broken the sky...
in two.
I wish that I could go home.
I wish that I had a home I could carry on my back.
Then I would always be home until I die.
Then there would just be the shell.
A. Foster, Ann Foster, Annette Foster