Charles Peterson 
Übersetzer:in

auf Lyrikline: 1 Gedichte übersetzt

aus: nord-samisch nach: englisch

Original

Übersetzung

Máilmmis dása (excerpt)

nord-samisch | Inger-Mari Aikio

ájačáhci
honnet ja     
silkeguobbara lákca

ráhkesvuođa juhkamuš








bajándálki
vuojada mu siste

ravddas ravdii
miehtá almmiávgadasa

jietna joavdá easkka
golmma mánu geažes








geassemánnu
ii dohkken

ii idja
ii iđit
ii beaivi
ii eahket

iige suoidnemánu idja
iige iđitidja
iige árraiđit

vurddii beaivváža suotnjariid
jo bures ligget
ovdal go de
viimmat








buorre iđit
spábbačiekči

guhkki
lei mátki

áhččát
sálte munno
gatnjaliiguin








guovttevahkkosažžan
álge eahketčierrát

beannot lihttera
ovccis gaskaidjii

sus gatnjalat
munnos bivastagat








beakkán čeahpes musihkkár
guokte konseartta beaivvis
golbma diimmu hávil

guldaleaddjin dušše
eadni ja áhčči

beaivi beaivvi
idja ija maŋŋá








snuđđu
čierru
bárgu
            báárgu
                        bááááárguuuuu

holvu
            hoooooolvuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

gillju
giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiillllllllllllllljuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

gottášingo su
vai iežan?








oh go sáhtášinge
máhcahit su
dohko gos bođiige
bidjat fárrui báberstuhka
masa čálestan “vihki”
dahje “boasttu gálvu”








das son čohkká
beaŋkka alde
mieiggada
ruškes čalmmat
uhca albmáš

áidna bargun
stuorrut








ja das mun čohkkán
beavdeguoras
mieiggadan
alit čalmmat
váiban eadni

áidna bargun
stuorrut suinna








ja nu dáhpáhuvaige
ahte sturron
ja son stuorui
ja mii stuoruimet
guovtte jagis
guovtte guhkes jagis








ráhkis
ráhkis uhca albmáš

ja ráhkis
ráhkis stuorra almmái

mii!
MII!

© Inger-Mari Aikio
aus: Máilmmis dása
Guovdageaidnu: DAT, 2001
Audio production: Haus für Poesie, 2019

From the World and Home

englisch

spring water
honey and                                                           
the silk mushroom’s cream           
                       
the juice of love                                               








a thunderstorm
rages within me
                                               
from edge to edge
over the entire firmament of heaven
                                   
first after three months
the sound comes forth           








june
was not good enough

not night
not morning
not day
not evening           
                                               
not july night either
not dawn                                                                                   
not early morning                                               

first when the sunbeams                                   
made really warm                                               
then
finally



                                                                       




good morning           
soccer player                                                           

it was a long           
trip                                                           

your father           
salts us down                                                           
with tears








at two weeks of age                                               
the nighttime screaming started                                   

one and a half liters                                               
between nine and midnight                                               

his tears                                                           
our sweat           








like a famous musician
two concerts every day
three hours straight

with only two listeners
mother and father

day after day
night after night




           



whimpers                                                           
cries                                                           
screams                                                           
            screeams                                               
            screeeeeamsssss                                                           
howls                                                                       
            hoooooowlsssssssssssssssss                                   

bawls                                                                       
            baaaaaaaaaaaawlsssssssssssssss                       

shall I take his life                                               
or mine?           








oh if I could only                                               
send him back                                                           
where he came from                                               
send him with a note                                               
where I write either “defective”                                   
or “wrong delivery”           








here he sits
on a chair
he rests
the brown-eyed
little man

his only assignment
to grow








and here I sit
at the end of the table and watch
I rest
the blue-eyed
tired mother

my only assignment
to grow with him








and so it happened
that I grew
and he grew
and we grew
for two years
two long years








dear
dear little man

and dear
dear big man of mine

we
WE!!!

From the World and Home. Translations from Sámi into English by Charles Peterson and Ima.
©2004 Nordic Studies Press, Chicago