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Олена Балера (1974)

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Коментатор Олена Балера, [ 2016-06-13 17:29:27 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

Так, пані Любо. Дякую!
Коментатор Вікторія Торон, [ 2016-06-13 22:44:05 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

Добре передано вишуканість, легкість образів і відчуття світла, яке пронизує вірш.
Коментатор Олена Балера, [ 2016-06-14 08:43:52 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

Дякую, пані Вікторіє!
Коментатор Світлана Луцкова, [ 2016-06-15 10:23:04 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

Яка кропітка робота, Оленко.. Успіхів Вам.
Коментатор Олена Балера, [ 2016-06-15 12:12:42 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

Спасибі, Свєто!
Коментатор Сергій Гупало, [ 2016-06-21 23:20:59 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

Fajno! I znowy - nepovtorno!
Коментатор Олена Балера, [ 2016-06-22 13:09:55 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

Дякую, Сергію! Рада Вас бачити! А іще більше зрадію, коли одного дня побачу Ваш коментар, написаний кирилицею :)
Коментатор Сергій Гупало, [ 2016-06-22 18:26:05 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

Z кирилицею y mene problemu...Perebyvaju za mezamu Ykrainu... Y zovtni povernysia, byde kurulucia!
Коментатор Катерина Савельєва, [ 2016-08-18 20:24:32 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

І я, що серце натомив од бур,
З тим променем про хмари позабув. Ох, як бальзам на рани))
Коментатор Олена Балера, [ 2016-08-18 23:57:59 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

Дякую, Катерино, за прочитання і відчуття!
Коментатор Роксолана Вірлан, [ 2016-08-30 05:43:00 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

Оленко, вкотре вдячна за переклад - дуже талановито. Треба книгу ВАших перекладацьких напрацювань - треба.
Коментатор Олена Балера, [ 2016-09-05 13:37:15 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Золотоволоска і три ведмеді (переклад з Роалда Дала)"   Балера Олена

Roald Dahl

GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS

This famous wicked little tale
Should never have been put on sale.
It is a mystery to me
Why loving parents cannot see
That this is actually a book
About a brazen little crook.
Had I the chance I wouldn’t fail
To clap young Goldilocks in jail.
Now just imagine how you’d feel
If you had cooked a lovely meal,
Delicious porridge, steaming hot,
Fresh coffee in the coffee-pot,
With maybe toast and marmalade,
The table beautifully laid,
One place for you and one for dad,
Another for your little lad.
Then dad cries, ‘Golly-gosh! Gee-whizz!
‘Oh cripes! How hot this porridge is!
‘Let’s take a walk along the street
‘Until it’s cool enough to eat.’
He adds, ‘An early morning stroll
‘Is good for people on the whole.
‘It makes your appetite improve
‘It also helps your bowels to move.’
No proper wife would dare to question
Such a sensible suggestion,
Above all not at breakfast-time
When men are seldom at their prime.
No sooner are you down the road
Than Goldilocks, that little toad
That nosey thieving little louse,
Comes sneaking in your empty house.
She looks around. She quickly notes
Three bowls brimful of porridge oats.
And while still standing on her feet,
She grabs a spoon and starts to eat.
I say again, how would you feel
If you had made this lovely meal
And some delinquent little tot
Broke in and gobbled up the lot?
But wait! That’s not the worst of it!
Now comes the most distressing bit.
You are of course a houseproud wife,
And all your happy married life
You have collected lovely things
Like gilded cherubs wearing wings,
And furniture by Chippendale
Bought at some famous auction sale.
But your most special valued treasure,
The piece that gives you endless pleasure,
Is one small children’s dining-chair,
Elizabethan, very rare.
It is in fact your joy and pride,
Passed down to you on grandma’s side.
But Goldilocks, like many freaks,
Does not appreciate antiques.
She doesn’t care, she doesn’t mind,
And now she plonks her fat behind
Upon this dainty precious chair,
And crunch! It busts beyond repair.
A nice girl would at once exclaim,
‘Oh dear! Oh heavens! What a shame!’
Not Goldie. She begins to swear.
She bellows, ‘What a lousy chair!’
And uses one disgusting word
That luckily you’ve never heard.
(I dare not write it, even hint it.
Nobody would ever print it.)
You’d think by now this little skunk
Would have the sense to do a bunk.
But no. I very much regret
She hasn’t nearly finished yet.
Deciding she would like a rest,
She says, ‘Let’s see which bed is best.’
Upstairs she goes and tries all three.
(Here comes the next catastrophe.)
Most educated people choose
To rid themselves of socks and shoese
Before they clamber into bed.
But Goldie didn’t give a shred.
Her filthy shoes were thick with grime,
And mud and mush and slush and slime.
Worse still, upon the heel of one
Was something that a dog had done.
I say once more, what would you think
If all this horrid dirt and stink
Was smeared upon your eiderdown
By this revolting little clown?
(The famous story has no clues
To show the girl removed her shoes.)
Oh, what a tale of crime on crime!
Let’s check it for a second time.
Crime One, the prosecution’s case:
She breaks and enters someone’s place.
Crime Two, the prosecutor notes:
She steals a bowl of porridge oats.
Crime Three: She breaks a precious chair
Belonging to the Baby Bear.
Crime Four: She smears each spotless sheet
With filthy messes from her feet.
A judge would say without a blink,
‘Ten years hard labour in the clink!’
But in the book, as you will see,
The little beast gets off scot-free,
While tiny children near and far
Shout, ‘Goody-good! Hooray! Hurrah!’
‘Poor darling Goldilocks!’ they say,
‘Thank goodness that she got away!’
Myself, I think I’d rather send
Young Goldie to a sticky end.
‘Oh daddy!’ cried the Baby Bear,
‘My porridge gone! It isn’t fair!’
‘Then go upstairs,’ the Big Bear said,
‘Your porridge is upon the bed.
‘But as it’s inside mademoiselle,
‘You’ll have to eat her up as well.’
Коментатор Олена Балера, [ 2016-09-05 13:45:47 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Amoretti. Сонет XL (переклад з Едмунда Спенсера)"   Балера Олена

Дякую, Роксолано, за високу оцінку моїх перекладів! Про збірку я, звичайно, думаю, але поки що, на жаль, не маю таких фінансових можливостей.
Коментатор Богдан Манюк, [ 2016-09-05 17:53:04 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Золотоволоска і три ведмеді (переклад з Роалда Дала)"   Балера Олена

Чудовий переклад!
Коментатор Олена Балера, [ 2016-09-05 19:55:21 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Золотоволоска і три ведмеді (переклад з Роалда Дала)"   Балера Олена

Дякую, Богдане!
Коментатор Сонце Місяць, [ 2016-09-06 03:35:26 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Золотоволоска і три ведмеді (переклад з Роалда Дала)"   Балера Олена

турдефорс, безперечно
Коментатор Олена Балера, [ 2016-09-06 13:39:25 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Золотоволоска і три ведмеді (переклад з Роалда Дала)"   Балера Олена

Спасибі, Сонечку! Із п'яти значень вислову "тур де форс" чотири позитивні, хочеться сподіватися на краще:)
Коментатор Олена Балера, [ 2016-09-06 13:44:25 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Маленька Червона Капелюшка та вовк (переклад з Роалда Дала)"   Балера Олена

Roald Dahl

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
AND THE WOLF

As soon as Wolf began to feel
That he would like a decent meal,
He went and knocked on Grandma’s door.
When Grandma opened it, she saw
The sharp white teeth, the horrid grin,
And Wolfie said, ‘May I come in?’
Poor Grandmamma was terrified,
‘He’s going to eat me up!’ she cried.
And she was absolutely right.
He ate her up in one big bite.
But Grandmamma was small and tough,
And Wolfie wailed, ‘That’s not enough!
‘I haven’t yet begun to feel
‘That I have had a decent meal!’
He ran around the kitchen yelping,
‘I’ve got to have another helping!’
Then added with a frightful leer,
‘I’m therefore going to wait right here
‘Till Little Miss Red Riding Hood
‘Comes home from walking in the wood.’
He quickly put on Grandma’s clothes,
(Of course he hadn’t eaten those.)
He dressed himself in coat and hat.
He put on shoes and after that
He even brushed and curled his hair,
Then sat himself in Grandma’s chair.
In came the little girl in red.
She stopped. She stared. And then she said,
‘What great big ears you have, Grandma.’
‘All the better to hear you with,’ the Wolf replied.
‘What great big eyes you have, Grandma,’
said Little Red Riding Hood.
‘All the better to see you with,’ the Wolf replied.
He sat there watching her and smiled.
He thought, I’m going to eat this child.
Compared with her old Grandmamma
She’s going to taste like caviare.
Then Little Red Riding Hood said, ‘But Grandma,
What a lovely great big furry coat you have on.’
‘That’s wrong!’ cried Wolf. ‘Have you forgot
‘To tell me what BIG TEETH I’ve got?
‘Ah well, no matter what you say,
‘I’m going to eat you anyway.’
The small girl smiles. One eyelid flickers.
She whips a pistol from her knickers.
She aims it at the creature’s head
And bang bang bang, she shoots him dead.
A few weeks later, in the wood,
I came across Miss Riding Hood.
But what a change! No cloak of red,
No silly hood upon her head.
She said, ‘Hello, and do please note
‘My lovely furry WOLFSKIN COAT.’
Коментатор Олена Балера, [ 2016-09-06 13:55:24 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Троє маленьких поросят (переклад з Роалда Дала)"   Балера Олена

Roald Dahl

THE THREE LITTLE PIGS

The animal I really dig
Above all others is the pig.
Pigs are noble. Pigs are clever,
Pigs are courteous. However,
Now and then, to break this rule,
One meets a pig who is a fool.
What, for example, would you say
If strolling through the woods one day,
Right there in front of you you saw
A pig who’d built his house of STRAW?
The Wolf who saw it licked his lips,
And said, ‘That pig has had his chips.’
‘Little pig, little pig, let me come in!’
‘No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!’ ‘
Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!’
The little pig began to pray,
But Wolfie blew his house away.
He shouted, ‘Bacon, pork and ham!
‘Oh, what a lucky Wolf I am!’
And though he ate the pig quite fast,
He carefully kept the tail till last.
Wolf wandered on, a trifle bloated.
Surprise, surprise, for soon he noted
Another little house for pigs,
And this one had been built of TWIGS!
‘Little pig, little pig, let me come in!’
‘No, no, by the hairs of my chinny-chin-chin!’
‘Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!’
The Wolf said, ‘Okay, here we go!’
He then began to blow and blow.
The little pig began to squeal.
He cried, ‘Oh Wolf, you’ve had one meal!
‘Why can’t we talk and make a deal?’
The Wolf replied, ‘Not on your nelly!’
And soon the pig was in his belly.
‘Two juicy little pigs!’ Wolf cried,
‘But still I am not satisfied!
‘I know full well my Tummy’s bulging,
‘But oh, how I adore indulging.’
So creeping quietly as a mouse,
The Wolf approached another house,
A house which also had inside
A little piggy trying to hide.
But this one, Piggy Number Three,
Was bright and brainy as could be.
No straw for him, no twigs or sticks.
This pig had built his house of BRICKS.
‘You’ll not get me!’ the Piggy cried.
‘I’ll blow you down!’ the Wolf replied.
‘You’ll need,’ Pig said, ‘a lot of puff,
‘And I don’t think you’ve got enough.’
Wolf huffed and puffed and blew and blew.
The house stayed up as good as new.
‘If I can’t blow it down,’ Wolf said,
‘I’ll have to blow it up instead.
‘I’ll come back in the dead of night
‘And blow it up with dynamite!’
Pig cried, ‘You brute! I might have known!’
Then, picking up the the telephone,
He dialled as quickly as he could
The number of Red Riding Hood.
‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Who’s speaking? Who?
‘Oh, hello Piggy, how d’you do?’
Pig cried, ‘I need your help, Miss Hood!
‘Oh help me, please! D’you think you could?’
‘I’ll try, of course,’ Miss Hood replied.
‘What’s on your mind?’ . . . ‘A Wolf!’ Pig cried.
‘I know you’ve dealt with wolves before,
‘And now I’ve got one at my door!’
‘My darling Pig,’ she said, ‘my sweet,
‘That’s something really up my street.
‘I’ve just begun to wash my hair.
‘But when it’s dry, I’ll be right there.’
A short while later, through the wood,
Came striding brave Miss Riding Hood.
The Wolf stood there, his eyes ablaze
And yellowish, like mayonnaise.
His teeth were sharp, his gums were raw,
And spit was dripping from his jaw.
Once more the maiden’s eyelid flickers.
She draws the pistol from her knickers.
Once more, she hits the vital spot,
And kills him with a single shot.
Pig, peeping through the window, stood
And yelled, ‘Well done, Miss Riding Hood!’
Ah, Piglet, you must never trust
Young ladies from the upper crust.
For now, Miss Riding Hood, one notes,
Not only has two wolfskin coats,
But when she goes from place to place,
She has a PIGSKIN TRAVELLING CASE.
Коментатор Анна Віталія Палій, [ 2016-09-06 14:14:44 ],
на сторінці поезії     "Маленька Червона Капелюшка та вовк (переклад з Роалда Дала)"   Балера Олена

Вдалий переклад цікавої інтерпретації старої казки)!
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