Songs

1. Znáte nějaké české verze původně anglických písní? Uveďte příklady v komentáři k blogu!

2. A jak se přeložené dílko proměňuje? Porovnejte:

Red river
Červená řeka

Three Ravens - A. Scholl
Three Ravens - Djazia
Three Ravens - vocal
Válka růží

L'important C'est la rose
Podívej, kvete růže

Všimněte si, jak se proměnilo i hudební provedení.

Další inspirace z oblasti téměř zlidovělé české popové klasiky zde - Ivo Fišer


I díla českých písničkářů jasně dokazují, že dobrý a vtipný text je silnou stránkou naší hudební scény.
Zuzana Navarová - Marie
Karel Kryl - Karavana mraků
Karel Plíhal - Nosorožec

Michal Tučný, Rattlesnake Annie - Long Black Limousine

My čekali jaro
... a zatím přišel mráz
Oh, dem golden slippers - parodie (info - WIKI)

Dobrodružství s bohem Panem
Greensleeves



3. Naším úkolem bude OTEXTOVAT píseň s původně anglickým textem. Nejsme nijak vázáni obsahem originálu, rozhoduje jedině forma, zpívatelnost - slovní a hudební přízvuky se musí překrývat. Zvolte si styl - a držte se ho, ať už to bude drama, lyrika nebo ostrá parodie.

Vyberte si jednu z níže uvedených tří skladeb a napište nový český text. Jediným kritériem je jeho ZPÍVATELNOST - měl by tedy respektovat rozložení přízvuků a délek v hudbě dle původní verze.

Country Roads-  John Denver
There is a ship - Peter, Paul and Mary
Seasons in the Sun  - Terry Jackson

Brel

Jacques Brel – Sám

Jsme dva má lásko

a milování směje se a zpívá

ale když den odeznívá

v kanafasu utrpení

je člověk zase sám.

Je nás deset, abychom bránili

živé před mrtvými

ale když člověka svým popelem přibili

ke kůlu výčitek

člověk je zase sám.

Je nás sto kteří tančíme

na plese dobrých kamarádů

ale při posledním lampiónu

při prvním smutku

je člověk zase sám.

Je nás tisíc proti tisíci

a věříme že jsme z těch silnějších

ale za pár hloupých hodin

kdy je z nás dva tisíce zabitých

je člověk zase sám.

Je nás sto tisíc a smějeme se sto tisícům

který nám stojí tváří v tvář

ale ani dva miliony smíchů

nezabrání aby v zrcadle a tichu

nebyl člověk zase sám.

Je nás tisíc a sedáme si

na samý vrchol štěstěny

ale když odvaha nás opouští

a za luny se všechno rozpouští

člověk je zase sám.

Je nás sto které sláva pozvala

aniž měla důvody

ale když umírají náhody

když píseň končí

je člověk zase sám.

Je nás deset a chceme

v posteli moci spát

ale když vidí její vojska

sama sebe v tichu pohřbívat

je člověk zase sám.

Jsme dva abychom zestárli

v boji s časem hlava nehlava

ale tváří v tvář když přichází

a směje se ta smrtka bělavá

je každý zase sám.

Shakespeare!

Jak překládat poezii?  A překládat ji vůbec? Má přednost forma či obsah? Dají se na překlad poesie aplikovat pravidla, o kterých jsme mluvili?


1. Projděte si komentáře k tomuto vstupu. Jaké typy básnické tvorby se objevují? Mají něco společného?

Dokážete se během 2 minut naučit 4 libovolné řádky zpaměti? Jak postupujete?


2. Stáhněte si z capsy soubor s různými verzemi překladu Shakespearova sonetu.
Shakespeare_Sonet66_13prekladu.doc

Která verze se vám nejvíc líbí? Proč? Napište svůj názor do komentáře k tomuto blogu. Uvažujete nad formou a obsahem nebo více nasloucháte svým pocitům?

Sonet 66 English
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MWBW_c7Fsw

Sonet 66 Hilský
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJw5BQba7zQ

Interview s Martinem Hilskym

__________________________________

3. Přečtěte si pomalu a klidně následující sonet. Vnímejte rytmus a zvukomalbu textu, při druhém čtení se teprve víc soustřeďte na obsah.

Sonnet XXV
Let those who are in favour with their stars
Of public honour and proud titles boast,
Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,
Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most.

Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread
But as the marigold at the sun's eye,
And in themselves their pride lies buried,
For at a frown they in their glory die.

The painful warrior famoused for fight,
After a thousand victories once foil'd,
Is from the book of honour razed quite,
And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd:

Then happy I, that love and am beloved
Where I may not remove nor be removed.



Pokuste se přeložit jedno ze tří čtyřverší + poslání.
Rozmyslete si, jak budete postupovat.
audio
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originál
https://www.opensourceshakespeare.org/views/sonnets/sonnets.php

české překlady Shakespeara
Jan Vladislav-pdf
http://lukaflek.wz.cz/poems/ws_sonet29.htm
http://www.v-art.cz/taxus_bohemica/eh/bergrova.htm
http://www.shakespearovy-sonety.cz/a29/
Hilsky sonet 12 youtube
http://sonety.blog.cz/0803/william-shakespeare-sonnet-12-64-73-94-107-128-sest-sonetu-v-mem-prekladu


https://ucbcluj.org/current-issue/vol-21-spring-2012/2842-2/
http://mikechasar.blogspot.cz/2011/02/gi-jane-dh-lawrence.html

________________

https://lyricstranslate.com/en/sonnet-66-soneto-66.html

Soneto 66
Harto de todo esto, muerte pido y paz:
de ver cómo es el mérito mendigo nato
y ver alzada en palmas la vil nulidad
y la más pura fe sufrir perjurio ingrato

y la dorada honra con deshonra dada
y el virginal pudor brutalmente arrollado
y cabal derechura a tuerto estropeada
y por cojera el brío juvenil quebrado

y el arte amordazado por la autoridad
y el genio obedeciendo a un docto mequetrefe
y llamada simpleza la simple verdad
y un buen cautivo sometido a un triste jefe;

harto de todo esto; de esto huiría; sólo
que, al morir, a mi amor aquí lo dejo solo.

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https://lyricstranslate.com/en/sonnet-66-shakespeare-sonett-66.html

Shakespeare: Sonett 66

Satt hab ich all dies, verlang im Tod den Frieden,
Seh ich, dass das Verdienst ein Bettler bleibt,
Dass nacktem Nichts das Festagskleid beschieden,
Dass Meineid reinste Treu ins Unglück treibt,
Dass Schande sich mit Ehrengold umhängt,
Dass Geilheit alles, was noch rein ist, schändet,
Dass Unrecht die Gerechtigkeit verdrängt,
Dass Stärke, durch Gewalt gelähmt, verkrüppelt,
Dass Macht dem Wissen fest die Zunge bindet,
Dass Dummheit kritisch Können überwacht,
Dass man die lautre Wahrheit lachhaft findet,
Dass Gut als Sklave dient der bösen Macht.
Satt hab' ich all dies, möcht' weg von alldem sein,
Doch wär' ich tot, ließ' ich mein Lieb allein.

https://shine.unibas.ch/Sonette1.htm#66
https://lyricstranslate.com/en/sonnet-66-sonett-66.html#songtranslation

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Sonett 66

Des Todes Ruh' ersehn' ich lebensmüd,
Seh' ich Verdienst als Bettler auf der Welt,
Und leeres Nichts zu höchstem Prunk erblüht,
Und reinste Treue, die im Meineid fällt,
Und goldne Ehre, die die Schande schmückt,
Und Mädchenunschuld roh dahingeschlachtet,
Und Kraft durch schwache Leitung unterdrückt,
Und echte Hoheit ungerecht verachtet,
Und Kunst geknebelt durch die Übermacht,
Und Unsinn herrschend auf der Weisheit Thron,
Und Einfalt als Einfältigkeit verlacht,
Und Knecht das Gute in des Bösen Fron,
Ja lebensmüd entging' ich gern der Pein,
Ließ den Geliebten nicht mein Tod allein.

Übersetzt von Max Josef Wolff

https://lyricstranslate.com/en/sonnet-66-sonett-66.html-0#songtranslation

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Sonett 66

Ich hab es satt. Wär ich ein toter Mann.
Wenn Würde schon zur Bettelei geborn
Und Nichtigkeit sich ausstaffieren kann
Und jegliches Vertrauen ist verlorn
Und Rang und Name Fähigkeit entbehrt
Und Fraun vergebens sich der Männer wehren
Und wenn der Könner Gnadenbrot verzehrt
Und Duldende nicht aufbegehren
Und Kunst gegängelt von der Obrigkeit
Und Akademiker erklärn den Sinn
Und simples Zeug tritt man gelehrsam breit
Und Gut und Böse biegt sich jeder hin
Ich hab es satt. Ich möchte wegsein, bloß:
Noch liebe ich. Und das läßt mich nicht los.

Deutsche Fassung von
Karl Werner Plath
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Сонет 66

Измучась всем, я умереть хочу.
Тоска смотреть, как мается бедняк,
И как шутя живется богачу,
И доверять, и попадать впросак,

И наблюдать, как наглость лезет в свет,
И честь девичья катится ко дну,
И знать, что ходу совершенствам нет,
И видеть мощь у немощи в плену,

И вспоминать, что мысли заткнут рот,
И разум сносит глупости хулу,
И прямодушье простотой слывет,
И доброта прислуживает злу.

Измучась всем, не стал бы жить и дня,
Да другу будет трудно без меня.


Pasternak, Boris Leonidovic

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Sonnet 66: Translation to modern English
Exhausted with the following things I cry out for releasing death: for example, seeing a deserving person who has been born into poverty; and an undeserving one dressed in the finest clothes; and someone who shows trustworthiness wretchedly betrayed; and public honour shamefully bestowed on the unfit; and unblemished goodness forced into bad ways; and genuine perfection unjustly disgraced; and conviction crippled by corruption; and skill suppressed by those with the power to do it; and stupidity restraining the advance of knowledge; and simple truth being dismissed as simplistic; and good taking orders from evil. Exhausted with all these things I want to escape, except that by dying I would be abandoning my love.

Italian audio
spanish audio

Teenagerská literatura

Stephen Chbosky - The Perks of Being a Wallflower

May 8, 1992

Dear friend,

It's strange how things can change back as suddenly as they changed originally. When one thing happens and suddenly, things are back to normal.

On Monday, Brad came back to school.

He looked very different. It wasn't that he was bruised or anything. His face actually looked fine. But before, Brad was always this guy who walked down the hallway with a bounce. I can't really describe it any other way. It's just that some people walk with their heads to the ground for some reason. They don't like to look other people in the eye. Brad was never like that.

But now he is. Especially when it comes to Patrick. I saw them talking quiet in the hallway. I was too far away to hear what they said, but I could tell that Brad was ignoring Patrick. And when Patrick started to get upset, Brad just closed his locker and walked away. It wasn't that strange because Brad and Patrick never talked in school since Brad wanted things to be secret. The strange part was that Patrick would walk up to Brad in the first place. So, I guessed that they didn't meet on the golf courses anymore. Or talk on the phone even.

Later that afternoon, I was having a cigarette outside by myself, and I saw Patrick alone, also having a cigarette. I wasn't close enough to really see him, but I didn't want to interfere with his personal time, so I didn't walk up to him. But Patrick was crying. He was crying pretty hard. After that, whenever I saw him around anywhere, he didn't look like he was there. He looked like he was someplace else. And I think I knew that because that's how people used to say I was. Maybe they still do. I'm not sure.

On Thursday, something really terrible happened.

I was sitting alone in the cafeteria, eating salisbury steak, when I saw Patrick walk up to Brad, who was sitting with his football buddies, and I saw Brad ignore him like he did at the locker. And I saw Patrick get really upset, but Brad still ignored him. Then, I saw Patrick say something, and he looked pretty angry as he turned to walk away. Brad sat still for a second, then he turned around. And then I heard it. It was just loud enough for a few tables to hear. The thing that Brad yelled at Patrick.

"Faggot!"

Brad's football buddies start laughing. A few tables got quiet as Patrick turned around. He was mad as hell. I'm not kidding. He stormed up to Brad's table and said,

"What did you call me?"

God, he was mad. I'd never seen Patrick like that before. Brad sat quiet for a second, but his buddies kept egging him on by pushing his shoulders. Brad looked up at Patrick and said

softer and meaner than the last time, "I called you a faggot."

Brad's buddies started laughing even harder. That is, until Patrick threw the first punch. It's kind of eerie when a whole room gets quiet at once, and then the real noise starts. The fight was hard. A lot harder than the one I had with Sean last year. There was no clean punching or things you see in movies. They just wrestled and hit. And whoever was the most aggressive or the most angry got in the most hits. In this case, it was pretty even until Brad's buddies got involved, and it became five on one.

That's when I got involved. I just couldn't watch them hurt Patrick even if things weren't clear just yet. I think anyone who knew me might have been frightened or confused. Except maybe my brother. He taught me what to do in these situations. I don't really want to go into detail except to say that by the end of it, Brad and two of his buddies stopped fighting and just stared at me. His other two friends were lying on the ground. One was clutching the knee I bashed in with one of those metal cafeteria chairs. The other one was holding his face. I kind of swiped at his eyes, but not too bad. I didn't want to be too bad.

I looked down at the ground, and I saw Patrick. His face was pretty messed up, and he was crying hard. I helped him to his feet, and then I looked at Brad. I don't think we'd ever really exchanged two words before, but I guess this was the time to start. All I said was,

"If you ever do this again, I'll tell everyone. And if that doesn't work, I'll blind you."

I pointed at his friend who was holding his face, and I knew Brad heard me and knew that I meant it. He didn't say anything back, though, because the security guards of our school came to bring all of us out of the cafeteria. They took us first to the nurse, and then to Mr. Small. Patrick started the fight, so he was suspended for a week. Brad's buddies got three days each for ganging up on Patrick after they broke up the original fight. Brad wasn't suspended at all because it was self-defense. I didn't get suspended either because I was just helping to defend a friend when it was five on one.

Brad and I got a month's detention, starting that day.

In detention, Mr. Harris didn't set up any rules. He just let us read or do homework or talk. It really isn't much of a punishment unless you like the television programs right after school or are very concerned with your permanent record. I wonder if it's all a lie. A permanent record, I mean.

On that first day of detention, Brad came to sit next to me. He looked very sad. I think it all kind of hit him after he stopped feeling numb from the fight.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. Thanks for stopping them."

"You're welcome."

And that was it.

Stylové roviny

1. Projděte si opravné texty - překlad Melvilla. Vyhledejte výrazy, které do textu stylově nezapadají.

2. Ve skupinách (3-4) sepište co nejvíce výrazů více či méně synonymních ke slovům PES a VIDĚT. Soustřeďte se na vnímání jejich stylové platnosti - kam je vhodné který výraz zařadit? Která postava ho může použít a v jakém kontextu?

Nápověda:
výrazy archaické x neologismy
pejorativa x diminutiva
emočně negativní x pozitivní
slang a argot x odborná terminologie...




Série synonym najdete například zde:
http://prekladanipvk.blogspot.cz/2016/02/synonymie-stylove-roviny.html
http://prekladanipvk.blogspot.cz/2014/10/stylove-roviny.html

K diskusi: Překládat může každý?

Slovníky

http://www.urbandictionary.com/

http://www.answers.com/

http://www.wisegeek.com

http://idioms.thefreedictionary.com/

http://www.merriam-webster.com/

http://www.slovnik.cz/¨

https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/

https://www.macmillandictionary.com/

Říkejte mi Ishmael...

CHAPTER 1. Loomings.

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago--never mind how long precisely--having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the  circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off--then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.

CHAPTER 24. The Advocate.

As Queequeg and I are now fairly embarked in this business of whaling;

and as this business of whaling has somehow come to be regarded among

landsmen as a rather unpoetical and disreputable pursuit; therefore, I

am all anxiety to convince ye, ye landsmen, of the injustice hereby done

to us hunters of whales.

In the first place, it may be deemed almost superfluous to establish

the fact, that among people at large, the business of whaling is not

accounted on a level with what are called the liberal professions. If a

stranger were introduced into any miscellaneous metropolitan society,

it would but slightly advance the general opinion of his merits, were

he presented to the company as a harpooneer, say; and if in emulation

of the naval officers he should append the initials S.W.F. (Sperm

Whale Fishery) to his visiting card, such a procedure would be deemed

pre-eminently presuming and ridiculous.

Doubtless one leading reason why the world declines honouring us

whalemen, is this: they think that, at best, our vocation amounts to a

butchering sort of business; and that when actively engaged therein, we

are surrounded by all manner of defilements. Butchers we are, that is

true. But butchers, also, and butchers of the bloodiest badge have been

all Martial Commanders whom the world invariably delights to honour. And

as for the matter of the alleged uncleanliness of our business, ye shall

soon be initiated into certain facts hitherto pretty generally unknown,

and which, upon the whole, will triumphantly plant the sperm whale-ship

at least among the cleanliest things of this tidy earth. But even

granting the charge in question to be true; what disordered slippery

decks of a whale-ship are comparable to the unspeakable carrion of those

battle-fields from which so many soldiers return to drink in all ladies'

plaudits? And if the idea of peril so much enhances the popular conceit

of the soldier's profession; let me assure ye that many a veteran

who has freely marched up to a battery, would quickly recoil at the

apparition of the sperm whale's vast tail, fanning into eddies the air

over his head. For what are the comprehensible terrors of man compared

with the interlinked terrors and wonders of God!

But, though the world scouts at us whale hunters, yet does it

unwittingly pay us the profoundest homage; yea, an all-abounding

adoration! for almost all the tapers, lamps, and candles that burn round

the globe, burn, as before so many shrines, to our glory!

But look at this matter in other lights; weigh it in all sorts of

scales; see what we whalemen are, and have been.

Why did the Dutch in De Witt's time have admirals of their whaling

fleets? Why did Louis XVI. of France, at his own personal expense, fit

out whaling ships from Dunkirk, and politely invite to that town some

score or two of families from our own island of Nantucket? Why did

Britain between the years 1750 and 1788 pay to her whalemen in bounties

upwards of L1,000,000? And lastly, how comes it that we whalemen of

America now outnumber all the rest of the banded whalemen in the world;

sail a navy of upwards of seven hundred vessels; manned by eighteen

thousand men; yearly consuming 4,000,000 of dollars; the ships worth,

at the time of sailing, $20,000,000! and every year importing into our

harbors a well reaped harvest of $7,000,000. How comes all this, if

there be not something puissant in whaling?