It will be the last gift for my son. Isn’t my heir worth a fleet, indeed? Escobar will tremor in flames, It will be an altar, not a gibbet.
I never wished such a fate for my son. I didn’t believe in the power of others’ curses But Yuri predicted that you would be A total trouble from your very birth.
Once you asked with a smile Why I wanted the throne, Why I needed blood Why I didn’t want peace.
What should I answer you, my dear son? I could have waited and watched The smoke over the capital, At army mutinies and regions riots.
Piotr was crazily stubborn from grief: Xav keep saying we had a criminal on the throne. Together we wrote my manifesto And swore to bury Yuri.
Maple leaves in a silver rime Were falling into my hands When capital was captured without a battle. And my son was due by July.
They called it “Ezar’s war” A necessary destruction of the Enemy. I shed more human blood than the other – The man whose eyes you have.
For three hard decades I raised an Empire but not my son. My victories have wrought A Barrayar, now strong and free.
I’ve raised my country from ruins, I’ve cut the path to the Galaxy… And lost the only battle -ours. But, son, be sure – you too.
This is halfway between a prose translation and the more metrical thing I did with Night. So neither fish nor fowl but a bit closer to the meter than the other version and somewhat singable in places.
I will grant my son this one last gift He deserves to go out with a warfleet His pyre will burn high over Escobar A noble sacrifice, without dishonor
I never wanted this to be your fate I thought there was no power in that dying curse But Yuri made a prophecy my heir would be A scourge upon the planet, once begotten
Once you asked with a smile and a knowing look Why I'd so passionately sought the throne Why I'd slaughtered so many in my way Why I'd never offered him peace nor quarter
How should I have answered you, dearest son? I could have waited and watched as the chaos rose Smoke over the capital, no one lord Districts in rebellion, armies fighting!
Piotr's grief and fury drove him on to war Xav insisted that a madman held the throne We wrote the manifesto, they chose me And swore that we'd see Yuri brought to ruin
The manifesto line doesn't work too well, but I'm done staring at it for now.
He deserves to go out with a warfleet - это утверждение или вопрос? Мне бы очень хотелось, чтобы в первых строках "Последнего дара" звучал вопрос, который Эзар задает сам себе.
"Разве мой наследник не стоит флота?" - очень скользкая тема в опере и в каноне. Мы в опере не хотели Эзара, который всегда абсолютно прав . Эскобарская война - грязная история, как ни крути.
И "Последний дар" - это рассказ о сомнениях императора. Он вспоминает прошлое, взвешивает и оценивает и процесс, и результат. Мне хотелось написать историю жизни великого человека. Жестокого, страшного, неверятно умного и очень сильного.
Но не имеющего однозначные ответы на все случаи. Эзар пытается увидеть будущее, но все его мысли о прошлом. И последняя строка - тоже содержит неуверенность.
Конечно, мне хотелось, чтобы "Последний дар" убедил слушателя, что это решение - разумное, что это, как последняя хирургическая операция, которую необходимо сделать, чисто и безжалостно. Мне бы очень хотелось, чтобы в переводе звучали и сомнения Эзара, и его жестокая правота.
The complication, for a song translator, is the voice pitch change associated with English questions that is absent in the Russian. I have been converting most of them to statements because to do otherwise requires messing with the tune to get the question-specific intonation right.
It would be easier to put a question in the first line than the second. The mix of sung and seemingly-spoken parts in this is really tricky to work with.
teldreaming, 'cause it was not Yuri who used cruel methods for 30 years to ensure the power of the throne, he was already dead. Ezar finished the civil war when Yuri was defeated, but the deaths in the Empire continued - by laws, by preventing mutinies, by mass executions - Ezar demonstrated the iron fist, so to speak. In a sense, it WAS a war.
teldreaming в официальном переводе у нас было следующее: "В ту ночь твой отец и принц Ксав пришли ко мне в штаб-квартиру Зеленой армии со своим странным предложением. Первый день гражданской войны Ури Форбарры. Интересно, почему ее не назвали гражданской войной Петера Форкосигана? "
Ага, был резон назвать эту войну именем Петера. Но все же - гражданская война Юрия Форбарры. В Саге гражданская война не называлась войной Эзара.
Я как автор текста хотела подчеркнуть искренность и отвественность Эзара в "Последнем даре". Эзар у меня признает свою вину за все жертвы гражданской войны и ее последствия. И он полностью уверен, что это было правильное решение.
А называть гражданскую войну именем поверженного императора - политкорректно и политически грамотно. Не отдал трон по требованию, оказал вооруженное сопротивление Зеленой армии, не предстал перед судом разгневанного Форкосигана и прочих уцелевших родственников. Виноват по всем статьям! И война - на его совести.
А Эзар перед смертью не играет в политические игры сам с собой. И помнит, что войну начал он. С Петером и Ксафом, на троих. Но именно он, Эзари, принял трон и на нем кровь его подданных.
Что-то я как-то слезливо излагаю, нет? И банальности пишу. Sorry, если что.
Smolyani
PS Но зачем-то на Барраяре был запас фитаина? Да-да, цетов пугать, да, конечно и безусловно....
Maple leaves etched with silvery frost Drifted through the streets that cold October When at last the capital fell to me And nine months later we had our prince
Perhaps they should have called it all 'my war' Executions followed, purges in the districts In the end more blood was shed by my hand Than his, though his eyes still shine through yours ("whose x eyes" for "though his eyes" would be better, but I need an appropriate adjective)
I will grant my son this one last gift How could I say that he's not worth the fleet? His pyre will burn high over Escobar A noble sacrifice, without dishonor
I never wanted this to be your fate I thought there was no power in that dying curse But Yuri made a prophecy that you would be A scourge upon the planet, from your birth
Once you asked with a smile and a knowing look Why I'd so passionately sought the throne Why I'd slaughtered so many in my way Why I'd never offered him peace nor quarter
How should I have answered you, dearest son? I could have waited and watched as the chaos rose Smoke over the capital, no true lord Districts in rebellion, armies fighting!
Piotr's grief and fury drove him on to war Xav insisted that a madman held the throne We made our rebel compact - they chose me - And swore that we'd see Yuri brought to ruin
Maple leaves etched with silvery frost Drifted through the streets that cold October When at last the capital fell to me And nine months later we had our prince
Perhaps they should have called it all 'my war' Executions followed, purges in the Districts In the end more blood was shed by my hand Than his, whose dead eyes I see in yours
It has been a difficult thirty years I raised up an empire, not my son The fruit of all my effort is clear to see Across Barrayar, now grown strong and free
From the ruins I built my Imperium I cut past Komarr to force open the door And lost the fight that mattered - yours and mine But my son, you must realize - so did you
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11.01.2012 в 22:38It will be the last gift for my son.
Isn’t my heir worth a fleet, indeed?
Escobar will tremor in flames,
It will be an altar, not a gibbet.
I never wished such a fate for my son.
I didn’t believe in the power of others’ curses
But Yuri predicted that you would be
A total trouble from your very birth.
Once you asked with a smile
Why I wanted the throne,
Why I needed blood
Why I didn’t want peace.
What should I answer you, my dear son?
I could have waited and watched
The smoke over the capital,
At army mutinies and regions riots.
Piotr was crazily stubborn from grief:
Xav keep saying we had a criminal on the throne.
Together we wrote my manifesto
And swore to bury Yuri.
Maple leaves in a silver rime
Were falling into my hands
When capital was captured without a battle.
And my son was due by July.
They called it “Ezar’s war”
A necessary destruction of the Enemy.
I shed more human blood than the other –
The man whose eyes you have.
For three hard decades
I raised an Empire but not my son.
My victories have wrought
A Barrayar, now strong and free.
I’ve raised my country from ruins,
I’ve cut the path to the Galaxy…
And lost the only battle -ours.
But, son, be sure – you too.
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12.01.2012 в 08:32-
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12.01.2012 в 08:34-
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12.01.2012 в 09:03Once you asked with a smile
Why I wanted the throne,
Why I needed blood
Why I didn’t want peace.
unexpectedly striking.
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14.01.2012 в 06:38Xav swore that the murderer would lose his throne
a little loose, but something that can really be belted out in English
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22.01.2012 в 12:04I will grant my son this one last gift
He deserves to go out with a warfleet
His pyre will burn high over Escobar
A noble sacrifice, without dishonor
I never wanted this to be your fate
I thought there was no power in that dying curse
But Yuri made a prophecy my heir would be
A scourge upon the planet, once begotten
Once you asked with a smile and a knowing look
Why I'd so passionately sought the throne
Why I'd slaughtered so many in my way
Why I'd never offered him peace nor quarter
How should I have answered you, dearest son?
I could have waited and watched as the chaos rose
Smoke over the capital, no one lord
Districts in rebellion, armies fighting!
Piotr's grief and fury drove him on to war
Xav insisted that a madman held the throne
We wrote the manifesto, they chose me
And swore that we'd see Yuri brought to ruin
The manifesto line doesn't work too well, but I'm done staring at it for now.
-
-
22.02.2012 в 15:54Можно вопрос от автора?
He deserves to go out with a warfleet - это утверждение или вопрос?
Мне бы очень хотелось, чтобы в первых строках "Последнего дара" звучал вопрос, который Эзар задает сам себе.
"Разве мой наследник не стоит флота?" - очень скользкая тема в опере и в каноне.
Мы в опере не хотели Эзара, который всегда абсолютно прав . Эскобарская война - грязная история, как ни крути.
И "Последний дар" - это рассказ о сомнениях императора. Он вспоминает прошлое, взвешивает и оценивает и процесс, и результат.
Мне хотелось написать историю жизни великого человека. Жестокого, страшного, неверятно умного и очень сильного.
Но не имеющего однозначные ответы на все случаи. Эзар пытается увидеть будущее, но все его мысли о прошлом. И последняя строка - тоже содержит неуверенность.
Конечно, мне хотелось, чтобы "Последний дар" убедил слушателя, что это решение - разумное, что это, как последняя хирургическая операция, которую необходимо сделать, чисто и безжалостно.
Мне бы очень хотелось, чтобы в переводе звучали и сомнения Эзара, и его жестокая правота.
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22.02.2012 в 15:54-
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22.02.2012 в 23:51It would be easier to put a question in the first line than the second. The mix of sung and seemingly-spoken parts in this is really tricky to work with.
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24.02.2012 в 11:12Буду надеяться на мастерство исполнителя
E. Smolyani
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26.03.2012 в 09:21why this and not "Yuri's War"?
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26.03.2012 в 11:40Ezar finished the civil war when Yuri was defeated, but the deaths in the Empire continued - by laws, by preventing mutinies, by mass executions - Ezar demonstrated the iron fist, so to speak. In a sense, it WAS a war.
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27.03.2012 в 19:11"В ту ночь твой отец и принц Ксав пришли ко мне в штаб-квартиру Зеленой армии со своим странным предложением. Первый день гражданской войны Ури Форбарры. Интересно, почему ее не назвали гражданской войной Петера Форкосигана? "
Ага, был резон назвать эту войну именем Петера. Но все же - гражданская война Юрия Форбарры.
В Саге гражданская война не называлась войной Эзара.
Я как автор текста хотела подчеркнуть искренность и отвественность Эзара в "Последнем даре". Эзар у меня признает свою вину за все жертвы гражданской войны и ее последствия.
И он полностью уверен, что это было правильное решение.
А называть гражданскую войну именем поверженного императора - политкорректно и политически грамотно. Не отдал трон по требованию, оказал вооруженное сопротивление Зеленой армии, не предстал перед судом разгневанного Форкосигана и прочих уцелевших родственников.
Виноват по всем статьям! И война - на его совести.
А Эзар перед смертью не играет в политические игры сам с собой. И помнит, что войну начал он. С Петером и Ксафом, на троих. Но именно он, Эзари, принял трон и на нем кровь его подданных.
Что-то я как-то слезливо излагаю, нет? И банальности пишу. Sorry, если что.
Smolyani
PS Но зачем-то на Барраяре был запас фитаина? Да-да, цетов пугать, да, конечно и безусловно....
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28.03.2012 в 10:05Maple leaves etched with silvery frost
Drifted through the streets that cold October
When at last the capital fell to me
And nine months later we had our prince
Perhaps they should have called it all 'my war'
Executions followed, purges in the districts
In the end more blood was shed by my hand
Than his, though his eyes still shine through yours ("whose x eyes" for "though his eyes" would be better, but I need an appropriate adjective)
?
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28.03.2012 в 22:57Спасибо. Здорово
эх, жаль рифмы нет
Интересно, а для английского языка рифма - не настольно важна, как в русском? Или я не в теме?
Smolyani
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14.04.2012 в 08:52How could I say that he's not worth the fleet?
His pyre will burn high over Escobar
A noble sacrifice, without dishonor
I never wanted this to be your fate
I thought there was no power in that dying curse
But Yuri made a prophecy that you would be
A scourge upon the planet, from your birth
Once you asked with a smile and a knowing look
Why I'd so passionately sought the throne
Why I'd slaughtered so many in my way
Why I'd never offered him peace nor quarter
How should I have answered you, dearest son?
I could have waited and watched as the chaos rose
Smoke over the capital, no true lord
Districts in rebellion, armies fighting!
Piotr's grief and fury drove him on to war
Xav insisted that a madman held the throne
We made our rebel compact - they chose me -
And swore that we'd see Yuri brought to ruin
Maple leaves etched with silvery frost
Drifted through the streets that cold October
When at last the capital fell to me
And nine months later we had our prince
Perhaps they should have called it all 'my war'
Executions followed, purges in the Districts
In the end more blood was shed by my hand
Than his, whose dead eyes I see in yours
It has been a difficult thirty years
I raised up an empire, not my son
The fruit of all my effort is clear to see
Across Barrayar, now grown strong and free
From the ruins I built my Imperium
I cut past Komarr to force open the door
And lost the fight that mattered - yours and mine
But my son, you must realize - so did you