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LA MUSIQUE DE LA MEMOIRE (français / italien / anglais / roumain)

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          Angelica Kauffmann - La Décision entre la musique et la peinture

 

 LA MUSIQUE DE LA MEMOIRE

 

“I am Raftery the poet.
Full of hope and love.”

("Je suis Raftery, le poète,
Plein d’amour et d’espérance »)

            Anthony Raftery

 

Tes petits pas résonnent dans le vieil escalier en bois.
Ils chantent comme des petites gouttes de pluie
Tambourinant contre les feuilles assoiffées
Un jour de juin.

Oui, ils battent comme bat au-dehors
L’infinie, la frémissante, la généreuse vie
De l’univers !

J’ouvre la porte, je te serre contre ma poitrine
Et soudain ton visage radieux
Devient eau palpitante
Sous la chaleur de mes doigts !

Alors mon âme monte au bout de mes lèvres
Pour embrasser la musique de ta respiration frêle,
La vierge lumière de tes yeux
Pleine de félicité !

Par la vitre qui brasille de joie,
S’engouffre le ciel du midi,
Il vient à nous, souriant,
Embaumé par la vapeur de la rosée
Pour bénir notre amour ! 

            Athanase Vantchev de Thracy

Paris, le 3 février 2006

Glose :

Anthony Raftery ou Antoine O. Raifteiri (1784 – 1835) : un des derniers
grands bards errants de l’Irlande. Raftery est  né à Killedan. Il était le fils d'un
tisserand. Atteint de la  petite vérole dans son enfance, Raftery perdit la vue.
Adolescent, il dut travailler comme garçon d’écurie. Chassé par le propriétaire des
chevaux à la suite d’un violent dispute, il croisa  pendant des années entre Tuam,
Gort et Craughwell, où il est mort en 1835. Raftery chanta ses poèmes sans jamais
les coucher sur le papier. Il fut littéralement adoré par le petit peuple qui connaissait
ses chants par cœur. Bien qu’il ne fût pas un grand ami de l’Eglise, il garda une
profonde foi en Dieu. Son magnifique poème Altharraigh Raifteiri, connu et récité par
tous les Irlandais, en est le témoin le plus éloquent.

 

ITALIEN :

LA MUSICA DELLA MEMORIA

“I am Raftery the poet.
Full of hope and love.”

(“Sono Raftery, il poeta.
Pieno d’amore et di speranza”)
           

            Anthony Raftery

 

I tuoi piccoli passi risuonano
Nel vecchio scalone di legno,
Cantano come piccole gocce di pioggia
Che tamburellano su foglie assetate
In una giornata di giugno.

Si, palpitano come
l’infinito, qui fuori, e la generosa vita
Dell’universo!

Apro la porta, ti stringo al mio petto,
E all’improvviso, il tuo viso radioso
Zampilla come acqua
Sotto le mie dita calde!

E la mia anima sale fino alle labbra
Per baciare la musica del tuo fragile respiro,
La luce pura dei tuoi occhi
Colma di felicità !

Attraverso la vetrata, che brilla di gioia,
Irrompe il cielo di mezzogiorno.
Viene a noi sorridendo        
Profumato di vapore e di rugiada,
Per benedire il nostro amore !

       Athanase Vantchev de Thracy

 Parigi, 3 Febbraio 2006

Traduit en Italien par Anna Piutti
Translated into Italian by Anna Piutti

Anthony Raftery (1784-1835):  Uno dei più famosi bardi irlandesi del XIX secolo.
Ancora bambino, Raftery perse la vista in seguito ad un attacco di vaiolo.
La poesia di Raftery fu tramandata oralmente fino al XX secolo, quando fu raccolta e
trascritta da Douglas Hyde. Nonostante la sua ostilità nei confronti della Chiesa,
Raftery fu noto per la sua profonda fede in Dio. La sua “Atharraigh Raifteiri”ne è la
testimonianza più celebre.

 

ENGLISH :

The Music of Memory

'I am Raftery the poet.
Full of hope and love.'

     Anthony Raftery

The echo of your small steps on the old wooden stairs
is like the song of tiny drops of rain
drumming on thirsty leaves
one June day.

Yes, they beat to the same rhythm as
the infinite, quivering, generous
universe outside!

I open the door, clasp you to my breast
and suddenly your radiant face
becomes a rushing stream
under the warmth of my fingers!

I feel my soul climb to the very edge of my lips
ready to kiss the music of your bird's breath,
the pure light of your eyes
so full of bliss!

The noon sky rushes
past the window glistening with joy
and comes to us smiling,
fragrant with misty dew
to bless our love!

translated from the French of Athanase Vantchev de Thracy by Norton Hodges

21.02.06.

 

ENGLISH (My translation into English) :

THE MUSIC OF THE MEMORY

“I am Raftery the poet.
Full of hope and love.”

            Anthony Raftery

 

Your small steps resound in the old wooden stair.

They sing as small rainy drops

Drumming against the thirsting leaves

One day of June.

 

Yes, they beat as beats outside

The infinite, the quivering, the generous life

Of the universe!

 

I open the door, I tighten you against my breast

And suddenly your radiant face

Becomes thrilling water

Under the heat of my fingers!

 

Then my soul rises at the end of my lips

To kiss the music of your frail breath,

The virgin light of your eyes

Full of bliss!

 

By the pane which glistens of enjoyment,

Rushes the sky,

It comes to us, smiling,

Embalmed by the vapour of the dew,

To bless our love!

 

Notes:

Anthony Raftery (1784-1835) :  one of the last Irish famous bards. He was born in Killedan. There were nine children in the Raftery family, but after an outbreak of small pox only

Anthony survived and he had lost his sight as a result of the illness. In later years he became known as The Blind Poet. We are told that Frank Taafe, who was at times a difficult man, took Raftery under his wing. The boy was gifted. He attended Hedge School in Bohola with the local lads and took part in all sports with them. He excelled in wrestling and was always the Anchor-man in Tug O War. During these sessions he often recited his own poems. He was also very musical and played the violin, which Frank Taafe had provided. Frank Taafe loved to sit under the huge trees listening to the stories, and music played by Raftery. He also encouraged the boy to entertain the locals with his music and song. The death of Anthony's mother, which occurred when he was in his late teens, brought interest in music to an end for at least 2 years. At that time Anthony was permanently employed by Frank Taafe. He acted as household messenger, horseback was his mode of travel to the various places, and it was on one of these journeys the fatal accident occurred. On his way home from Kiltimagh, he tried to jump the horse across a drain, but the animal failed to reach the other side, and had its neck broken in the fall. Raftery was afraid of Franks temper, so he set off on his travels. He loved Mayo, and was heartbroken leaving as he so often made clear in his poems. Officially he never returned, but we are told he slipped back for his violin. His wanderings took him to County Galway, playing and entertaining as he went along. He died there in 1835, and is buried in Craughwell - "Relig na bhfile".

 

ROUMAIN :

Muzica amintirii

„Sunt Raftery, poetul,
de dragoste si de sperantă plin”.
Anthony Raftery

Ecoul pasilor tăi mărunti pe bătrânele scări de lemn
e cum cântecul micutelor picături de ploaie
bătând în frunzele-nsetate
într-o zi de iunie.

Da, bat în acelasi ritm
ca infinitul, fremătătorul, generosul
univers din afară!

Deschid usa, strâns te strâng la piept
si, dintr-o dată, fata ta strălucitoare
devine abur fugar
în căldura degetelor mele!

Îmi simt sufletul urcând piscul buzelor mele
gata să sărute muzica respiratiei tale de pasăre
lumina clară a ochilor tăi
atât de binecuvântati!

Cerul de amiază grăbeste
strălucind în ferestre bucuros
zâmbind pogoară spre noi,
parfumat cu colb de rouă
să binecuvânteze-a noastră dragoste!

Traduit en roumain par Marius Chelaru