Thursday, 1 May 2014

Translated Poems

(Yorkshire)

Love and Friendship
Emily Brunte

The wild rose-briar is sweet n’ sprin,
its summah blossom cent t' air;
yet old on til wintah comes agin
n' ooh uhl call t' wild-briar fair?


(Brummie)

So we’ll go no more a rovin'
Lord Byron 

Fer the sword outweass its sheath,
 an' the soul weass ert the breus,
an' the heart mun pause ter breathe,

 an' love itself yav rest.


(Scouse)

If I could tell you
W.H.Auden

Ay wandered lonely as a cloud
that floats on ai o’er vales and 'ills,
whun all a once ay saw a crowd,
a 'ost, o' goldun daffodils;
besides de’ lake, beneath de’ trees,
flutti'n and danc’n in de’ breeze.

(Geordie)

Invictus
William Ernest Henley

Oot o the neet tha covers me, 
black as the pit frem pole te pole, 
ah thank whativvor gods ma be
 fre me unconqueryeble soul.

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