WB Yeats: The Song of Wandering Ængus

WB Yeats: The Song of Wandering Ængus

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It is extremely difficult to match the perfect iambic rhythm of this beautiful poem, the internal rhymes and alliterations, but it called out to me and I had to respond. I had to cut bits here and there for sake of brevity. Comments, suggestions and improvements are welcome.


I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
 
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
 
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

Kotulwelinnar patanen

An mí karinya ruive ná,

Kotulwe olwa kirnenye

Ispinna nunten pio tá;

Fumilli ninqui wílaner,

Ar tíner éli vávie,

I pio hanten nellenna,

Ta tinda lingwe ráfien.

 

Talanna í sa *sastanen,

Ar vávanen i ruine en,

Mal hyastane ma to i kém,

Yalle ni essenyanen;

Nettenna rilya ólies,

Mí finde lóte orvea,

Ye yalle ni ar aunorne,

Ar ter i vilya sintea.

 

Lan ranyanen linyenwa nán,

Ter nóri tumne, ambune,

Mal túvan mann’ oanties,

Miqun i péti írime,

Patan mi salque tixea,

Rukin tenn’ lúme vánie,

Telemne orvar Isilo,

Anaro orvar laurie.

 

*sasta- vb. "put, place" <*sattā- <SAT