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Ivan Petryshyn Poem
https://allpoetry.com/topic/show/269023028-Sonnet%201.%D0%A1%D0%BE%D0%BD%D0%B5%D1%82%201.
Copyright © Ivan Petryshyn | Year Posted 2016
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Ivan Petryshyn Poem
The Escape from the Turkish Slavery
(Ukrainian historic folk song)
There broke into the Tartar sprites,
And they captured my daughter, nice,
Marusyna, my daughter, dear,
I remained with one son in fear.
And there came others- my son was enslaved,
And a widow, a poor orphan, I remained.
The third time, they took me too, an old soul...
... a Turk took me to the service,
I began to toil and slave
Serving the foe every day.
The daughter didn’t recognize her nurse
Having given her the works, the worst:
With the hands- to spin the yarn, fine,
With the little feet- to lull the child,
To watch the flock- with the eyes…
They found themselves in one place
All three meeting face to face.
When the daughter was recognized by the mother
And, when also confessed the brother…
They were united with one another.
Then the daughter began to tell the Turk,
That's my brother, this is my mother,
Then, the Turk began to trust them.
He entrusted them with all his goods.
They did everything, not to delude
Thinking, dreaming of their home.
When the Turk and daughter were going to the ball,
They handed the keys from the houses, all;
The son and the mother were taking the golden keys,
The souls of the slaves from the cellars to release,
Saddling the horses to start their way
To travel back home again.
Oh they were crossing the Danube, Dunahj,
The Turks, low-natured, were on a catch-ride.
On the other bank, they shouted:
"Oh Ivan, Ivan!
You know and you know,
And take the infusion of wormwood,
And, you will know even better for good! "
Chieftain Ivan Korsun began to narrate:
"I crossed the Danube River -
Denied the enemy forever! "
(Translation from Ukrainian into English by Ivan Petryshyn)
The Escape from the Turkish Slavery
Copyright © Ivan Petryshyn | Year Posted 2016
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Ivan Petryshyn Poem
Translation from Ivan Kotlyarevsky
Why is the water so much roily?-
Hasn’t it been shook up by the wave?
Why am I sad and not jolly,
Hasn’t my mother chastised me to save?
Yet, my mother didn’t trouce me-
From my eyes, there pour th’ tears of bad,
No matchmakers come from my sweetheart,
But are sent from the unloved lad .
Where’re you, dear? Take a look,
See my anguish stand;
Oh, fly over, my truelove,-
They’re taking, now, my hand.
Faster, darling, bring me off
From the fierce misfortune:
If I am to live with an unloved,
I’d rather perish in a torture.
Translator into English: Ivan Petryshyn
Traduzione dal Ivan Kotliarevskij
non e' l'onda che ha sbattuto
il fiume ch'era trasparente?
non e' la ragazza triste, infelice,
perche' la mamma ha svegliato la sua mente?
non mi ha battuto la mamma-
le lacrime cadono da soli:
non ci sono i sensali dal mio caro,
arrivono i mezzani dal uno che non voglio.
dove sei, mio tesoro? guarda-
come io soffro;
vieni, vieni, mio cuore,-
un odioso uomo mi offron.
sii veloce, caro, mi salva
dalla sfortuna piu' grave:
se dovessi vivere con un odioso,
meglio perire con uno che amavi.
Ivan Petryshyn, traduttore dall'ucraino
Translation from Ivan Kotlyarevskiy
???? ???? ?????? -
?? ????? ?? ??????
???? ?? ? ????????, ????????,
?? ??????? ?? ?????
???? ? ???? ?? ???? -
???? ????? ?????:
?? ?????? ????? ???,
?? ?????????? ?????? ????.
??? ??, ?????? ???????? -
????? ? ?????? ????;
??????? ??, ??? ??????, -
????? ??? ????.
??????, ?????, ????? ????-
??????? ????? ???????:
??? ? ????????? ??? ????,
?? ????? ????????.
Translation from Ukrainian into Russian by Ivan Petryshyn
Copyright © Ivan Petryshyn | Year Posted 2016
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Ivan Petryshyn Poem
Taras Shevcenco
Nella casematta
Dedicazione ai miei compagni
Reivocate , fratres meos…
Che non ritornino i guai,
Quando miravamo in fiducia
Dalla gallera che finiva mai.
Possibilmente, pensavamo:“quando
Ancora ci vedermo nella vita
Per un dibattito tranquillo
Su quella terra impoverita?”
Pero’, non mai, fratres, non mai,
Noi non beviamo dal Dnipro unitamente!
Avendo difuso la nostra sventura
Nelle steppe e nelle praterie,
Separeremo poi le nostre vie,
E , nella liberta’, un po’ piu’ crederemo,
Prima che vivere cominceremo.
Tra altre persone, come una nazione,
Ma, prima, che lo sara’ successo,
Amatevi, miei fratelli,
Volete bene l’Ucraina,
E, per essa, sfortunata,
Il Signore, pregate,
E, Lo dimenticate, amici,
E non Lo bestemmiate,
E ,nella schiavitù, a volte,
Anche me, ricordate.
Traduzione dall’ucraino all’italiano di Ivan Petryshyn,2016.
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Copyright © Ivan Petryshyn | Year Posted 2016
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Ivan Petryshyn Poem
https://allpoetry.com/group/show/33202-Eastern%20Slavic%20Folklore%20Poet
Copyright © Ivan Petryshyn | Year Posted 2016
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Ivan Petryshyn Poem
I will be writing,
till I tell the World
all things I have to tell,
and, till my projects will be well
typed, submitted, published
to meet the wider Public
to keep Her name in mind forever
not to forget it never.
Ivan Petryshyn
Copyright © Ivan Petryshyn | Year Posted 2016
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Ivan Petryshyn Poem
and, they will continue
swindling slightly,
as they will pretend,
that they are right,
they do like to be
well-recognized,
but will never recognize
the other,
who was said to them
in church to be their brother.
and, it doesn't matter,
for how long
you've been teaching,
how and where-
please, believe me:
they don't care,
as they have their certificates,
and, think it's fair
to dare
to proclaim the rights
and to let down someone
from just-somewhere,
who, once, even hold a chair.
well, the virus situation makes us sad,
as the floors and surfaces could
have been bad,
so completely covered with the virus,
that for those in classes,
they are minus,
but, for those in offices-
the plus,
that are nicely granted
to all us.
nothing can be said,
as it's not rare,
that more equal still will stare
at the honest,
as at a small hare
hardly greeting,
just tongue beating
the light winds
and the transparent air,
but we love them,
as they do seem human,
be he just a man
or a just woman,
only- no harassment
or abuse!
well, forget that!
buy a new pair of shoes.
Ivan Petryshyn
Copyright © Ivan Petryshyn | Year Posted 2020
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Ivan Petryshyn Poem
the rain,
like melted grain
of ice
to be,
that, maybe,
loving will be we,
or, maybe, not,
but it just falls
in the gray day
of the wet fall.
the rain,
that we all must obey,
be it the morning or the day,
hoping, it will, will go away
some time, some evening
or some day.
the rain,
a paint
of many hues,
the chance
to win or just to lose,
and to forget
with some regret.
but... let it rain,
please, let,
please, let.
Ivan Petryshyn
Copyright © Ivan Petryshyn | Year Posted 2020
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