Now the day is full of song
Yes, now that Vincente’s come
We have begged for o, so long
The strings his hand to strum.
Pluck, pluck the guitar string.
Pluck, pluck the hen.
Pluck, pluck the flowers.

Energy of golden light
Through the cold, hard year.
We find the birds fat and ripe
And dinner time is near.
Pluck, pluck the guitar string.
Pluck, pluck the hen.
Pluck, pluck the flowers.

Now view the silken stalks
Of brilliant summer beams.
When some enjoy to walk,
Hunting signs of dreams.
Pluck, pluck the guitar string.
Pluck, pluck the hen.
Pluck, pluck the flowers.

Rest now with full minds
And inside nourishment.
Shutters catch the flora
To gladden some bereavement.
Pluck, pluck the guitar string.
Pluck, pluck the hen.
Pluck, pluck the flowers.

 

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NaPoWriMo
Day 23

Today’s prompt is a homophonic translation.
Find a poem in a language you don’t know, and translate it into English based on the look of the words and their sounds.
It may not make a lot of sense, but it does give me some new words and ideas to play with.

Here is the original poem I chose written by Jeppe Aakjaer, a famous and quite brilliant Danish writer:

Nu er dagen fuld af sang

Nu er dagen fuld af sang,
og nu er viben kommen,
bekkasinen natten lang
håndterer elskovstrommen.
Plukke, plukke dugget strå,
plukke, plukke siv ved å,
plukke, plukke blomster.

Engen er nu gyldengul
af tunge kabbelejer,
søndenvinden byder op,
og dueurten nejer.
Plukke, plukke dugget strå,
plukke, plukke siv ved å,
plukke, plukke blomster.

Nu vil mø med silkestik
på brudelinet sømme.
Den, som ingen bejler fik,
hun ta’r sig én i drømme.
Plukke, plukke dugget strå,
plukke, plukke siv ved å,
plukke, plukke blomster.

Ræk mig en forglemmigej
og sidst en krusemynte,
sådan slutter vi vor leg så glad,
som den begyndte.
Plukke, plukke dugget strå,
plukke, plukke siv ved å,
plukke, plukke blomster.

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