Treny: The Laments by Kochanowski. Translated by Adam Czerniawski, foreword by Donald Davie, edited and annotated by Piotr Wilczek. Legenda: Oxford. Jan Kochanowski, Laments. Darmowe tłum. Dorothea Prall. Epoka: Renesans Rodzaj: Liryka Gatunek: Tren Język: English. Pobierz: PDFEPUBMOBIwięcej. Your institution has not downloadd access to this title at this time. Please get in touch with your librarian to recommend this. Preview PDF.
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Jan Kochanowski was probably the key figure in Polish Literary humanism PDF download for Jan Kochanowskis Treny
We climb To heaven, spying on God s mysteries, But the sight o f mortal eyes Proves dim. Scant, fleeting dreams 12 Tease us, their sense unguessed. Despair, what have you done?
Am I To lose both joy and reason? Nigdy ona po ranu karmie nie wspomniala, Az pierwej Bogu swoje modlitwy oddala.
Zawzdy przeciwko ojcu wszytki przebyc progi, Zawzdy sie uradowac i przywitac z drogi. She never had her morning meal Before her prayers unto God; 12 At bedtime in her mother s arms She asked the Lord To grant her parents health. On her fathers coming home 16 She ran to greet him at the door And made him smile.
She always helped at meals, Learning domestic skills, 20 Though not yet three years old. Her youth unable to sustain Such virtue, such sublime Nobility, she was weighed down 24 Before due harvest time.
M y special seed-corn, You must again be sown, Burying my hopes 28 In saddest ground; For never will you rise, Never bloom Before my grieving eyes. I must my brief content requite With grief at your untimely loss. Crossing the ford, Where the horrid boatman steers 4 Pallid shades into cheerless Cypress groves, let me discover M y most cherished girl.
Has he a stone for a heart 16 Rejecting all woeful pleas? Better stay there, at a stroke To release the soul from a terrible yoke. Gdzie pociecha? Gdzie radosc i twoje wesele? Skladtas dziateczki swoje zagubione srogo. Wszak sie ty tylko sromoty wiarujesz; Insze wszelakie u ciebie przygody Ledwe nie gody. Are these delusive dreams, Flying through the Ivory Gate, Beguiling human thought, At waking— nought?
How quick to reason When things go well, The head not ill. Since you only fear disgrace, Your other perturbations— But a celebration! Yet, though virtuous, you were loath To die when your stern debate Confirmed your fate. Czy snac gorzej duszy, Kto rany ruszy?
Accursed fate! Does the soul smart more When you rub the sore? Come where saints and reason fail, Heal a sad heart and bring relief From this tormenting grief. I must cry. M y God Where can I hide?
Shun bloody wars? Fate will come Wherever I am. Can it heal a sick mind? Kto przyjaciel zdrowia mego, Wynajdzi co wolniejszego.
POLISH LITERATURE IN ENGLISH TRANSLATION
And whoever wants me hale Must find a better drug. Only God halts pain. A my owszem zywiemy zywot tym wazniejszy, Czym nad to grube cialo duch jest slachetniejszy. A n hour before dawn tardy sleep Clasped me with its blackish wings. I saw my mother Bearing in her arms my sweet Orszula, Looking just as she did Coming fo r prayers to me at dawn Straight from her bed, Dressed in a white shift, tousled hair, Rosy cheeks and laughing eyes.
Or does your constant grief burn you still? I bear in my arms your dearest girl. You can again see her and contain your heartfelt sorrow which so saps your strength and stealthily ruins your health, as fire relentlessly turns dry wicks to ash. Do you take us dead as lost, for whom the sun will never shine? But our lives are the more significant by as much as the spirit is nobler than this dull flesh.
Earth returns to earth, but a spirit comes from Heaven. Would you expect it to perish not summoned to its home? And so she has appeared to you in a shape familiar to mortal eyes. But among angels and eternal spirits like a bright dawn she shines and prays for her parents in the way she did when she was with you, even though she could not command all the words. Takze trzymaj o tem, 48 Jakos doznal; ani sie frasuj, ze tak rana Twojej ze wszech namilszej dziewce smierc zeslana.
16th c. LITERATURE
Ze sobie swym posagiem pana nie kupila? Ze bolesci w rodzeniu dziatek nie uznala? Takiec pospolicie Przysmaki wasze, czym wy sobie swiat slodzicie. Zyjem wiek nieprzezyty, wiecznej uzywamy Dobrej mysli, przyczyny wszytkich rzeczy znamy. But how miserable and vain are your pleasures which bring more trouble and sorrow! As you know from your own experience! Did the girl ever give you enough joy for your happiness and pleasure to compare with your present loss?
You are silent, I see.
A husband she failed to download with her dowry? Scolding and abuse? Childbirth pains? Nor can she judge— as her wretched mother can— what is worse: to bear them or bury them? Such are the common delicacies that sweeten your world! Here no troubles rule, toil is unknown, no place for misfortunes or accidents.
N o illness, no ageing, no scope for tear-fed Death. We live eternally, o f good cheer, knowing the cause o f all. The sun always shines, the day never ends, the dark night never comes.
We behold the Creator o f all in majesty, which you, in the flesh, vainly seek to see.
Here speedily turn your thoughts. Preserve yourself, my son, for changeless sumptuous pleasures! You know what this world and its love are: better strive for a more worthy goal! Czlowiek, urodziwszy sie, zasiadl w prawie takim, Ze ma byc jako celem przygodom wszelakim.
Others, who turned their sails to windward, have struck treacherous rocks. Some have died o f exposure, some o f hunger, only a few reached land clinging to a plank. She preferred to forestall her fate and suffer fewer earthly troubles. Others outlive their beloved parents and experience miseries as orphans. Some are pushed from home into marriage and their dowries are grabbed by Lord knows who.
Some are forced by our own men, others still by Tartar hordes, where in pagan slavery and shameful service they gulp tears awaiting all-consuming Death. VII: "My life, measured by a brief span as with a rope. Excerpts from "A Poem on Bison. Lament V ["Who is so audacious, tell me, who has the face. Marion Moore Coleman.
Mary Elizabeth Osborn. Anne Marek. Compiled by Klub Polski of Columbia University. Paul Soboleski. Print version. Internet Archive E-book. Google E-book. Jan Kochanowski 2 Laments Treny. Leonard Kress. Mayday Magazine 3 Fall Tren 1.
Paul Soboleski. Print version. Internet Archive E-book. Google E-book. Jan Kochanowski 2 Laments Treny. Leonard Kress.
POLISH LITERATURE IN ENGLISH TRANSLATION
Mayday Magazine 3 Fall Tren 1. Tren 7. Toronto Slavic Quarterly 10 Fall Tren VII "Pitiful garments, lamentable dresses. Tren X "My fair Orszula, where have you fled? Threnody 6 "My Slavic Sappho, you stood to inherit. Threnody 14 "If only the gate where Orpheus descended. Selected Masterpieces of Polish Poetry.Wszak sie ty tylko sromoty wiarujesz; Insze wszelakie u ciebie przygody Ledwe nie gody. Was she real or part of my dream? William Oldisworth. Some are pushed from home into marriage and their dowries are grabbed by Lord knows who.
We live eternally, o f good cheer, knowing the cause o f all.
Better to collect lullabies Than, through ill-fortune, weep 8 Over the mute grave o f my accomplished girl And rage at coldly cruel Proserpine. He later worked as a journalist. Polish Renaissance Literature: an Anthology. Czlowiek, urodziwszy sie, zasiadl w prawie takim, Ze ma byc jako celem przygodom wszelakim. But it sends all the wrong signals, and brings in distracting associations.