Monday, December 21, 2009

The Last Ark

And so we turn unto the fifth qonáfhto stanza of the poem.


Oilima Markirya
[1]

Men kenum’a p’áne kirya
Métima khrestal’o kíra
I p’airi néke
Ringa súmaryats’e
M’e maiwi yaimie?
The Last Photonick Ark

Who shall see a white ship’s
Leaving the last shore,
The pale phantasms
Inna hir cold bosom
Like seamews’ wailing?
Man tirum’a p’ána kirya
Wilwarin wilwa
Oarkelumets’en
Rámainen Elm’ie
Oar p’alastala
Winga khlápula
Rámar sisílala
Kale p’ipírula?
Who shall heed a white ship,
Vague as a butterfly
In the flowing sea
On wingfins like Stars
The sea surging
The foam blowing
The wingfins shining
The light fading?
Man khlarum’a rám’ea sure
M’e tauri lil’ats’ie
Nin-qwi karkar yar’a-‘
Isilme’ ilkalats’e-‘
Isilme píkalats’e-‘
Isilme lantalats’e
M’e loikolíkuma
Raumo nur’wa-‘
Unn’ume rúma?
Who shall hear the wind’s roaring
Like leaves of forests,
The white scurrying rocks snarling
In the moon gleaming
In the moon waning
In the moon falling
A corse-candle,
The storm mumbling,
The abyss moving.
Man kenum’a lumfh’or akh’osta
Menel akúna
Ruqsalamfh’okhn’ar
Oar amortala
Unn’ume kh’ákala-‘
Enwina lúme’
Elenil’or pel’a
Taltataltala-‘
Atalantie minn’okhn’ar?
Who shall see the wolcen clouds’ gather
The heavens bending
Upon crumbling hills,
The sea heaving
The abyss yawning
The old darkleness
Beyond the Stars
Falling
Upon fallen ptowren?
Man tirum’a rákina kirya-‘
Onn’olits’e morne
Nu p’unyare rúkina-‘
Anar púroa tikhta-‘
Aqsor ilqalakhn’ar
Métimaurets’e?
Man kenum’a métimann’úne?
Who shall heed a broken ship
On the black scurrying rocks
Under broken skies
A bleared sun blinking
On bones gleaming
In the last morning?
Who shall see the last evening?



Five

Xhoxhoxhakhpènthe’ aêng

Wtsókekh tsiyuyiîlwatt
Tnekhukhakhmetùtya
Lràrfheso tirimèpwo xhyus
Lràya pfhesyayèthya
Koaqing tselpeuyèmfhen
Khmepáni tlheqhayèthya?
The Photonick Ark Seen for the Last Tyme

Who shall see of the white ship
Departing
From the final shores
Like a pale dwimmerlaik
In its cold bosom
Like khmepáni seamews crying out?
Lyowèngqamat tsìyu xhroe yiilwat
Khyakhyaîrfha pfhu qemámiyèthya
Xhyus qir kí qyé
Jársayèxhyeu qir fhoreîka Tàrjhi xhroe
Lreqhíkhqeûnatser qaeyàqwa
Tlhíwèyatser talapalàqwa’
Ájàratser koe xhlókhàqwa
Tlháwàyatser árfhayàqwa?
Who shall notice the white ship
Fluttering like qamémi butterflies
In the flowing seas
On wings like the Stars
Whilst the seas rise
Whilst the seafoam blows like wind in a clear sky
Whilst one’s wingfins shine
Whilst life dissolves?
Tlheûxha fhrìtlhe’ elreuyùtya’
Ajáxasèthya’ ajaxeixíjoyèpwo xhyus
Fhirèmatser tsaproyiilwatàqwa
Jhwíjo sikoâyi ser
Jhwíjo jhùkhrin ser
Jhwíjo’ ìjhetlha ser
Teiqhaxhletitiyèthya fhuîn wtsenátso pfhu
Khmúrur khmúrùratser qeqyoimàqwa
Khmufhàyatser qhulwayàqwa?
Who shall hear of the bellowing winds
Like leaves from the forest
While white scurrying rocks snarl
In the gleaming moons
In the waning moons
In the falling moons
Like a corse’s candle, a will·o’·Þe·wisp, færie light,
Whilst the storm keeps grumbling
Whilst the Abyss of Language moveth?
Khlòqa xhlùrel oakhúyiyùtya xhyus
Wtsorengtàyatser tlhoqnuyonwoyàqwa
Jòxhra jhkhoaployèxhyeu
Lroânatser thiptoyonwoyàqwa
Qlikhéyùyaster khmixhefhwaronwoyàqwa
Lriqhínxhànatser Stélofhiet
Thiqyotukhpelonwoyajhwenàqwa
Qir jiên tlhìnta?
Who shall sea of the wolcen clouds gathering
Whilst the heavens by accident bend
On large and crumbling aonach
Whilst the seas insignificantly breathe
Whilst the abyss of language accidently yawn
Whilst the ancient darkleness insignificantly
Falleth beyond the Stars
On fallen towers?
Lyowengqamataîpoin xhoxhoxhakhpènthe’ xhroe
Xùjus pfhu pelìxhetha se yoilyat
Sqàti tuipfhùyufhar xhyus
Truinùyatser Eqhusqiiyàqwa xhnáxher
Qir qòkhexhet qlúti
Qir thòkhruqi thingoîxei?
Jaê sìpfhiqi thingoixeiyùtya xhyus?
Who is fated to notice the broken photonick ark
On black scurrying rocks
Under the fractured skies
Whilst the blushing Sun blinketh
On glowing bones
At the last morning to come?
Who shall see of the last evening to come?

I think that was an interesting translation, if I am understanding it right, Éfhelìnye. We least we have some good examples of using the partitive genitive form of the locative case as the object, not to mention some fun subordinate clauses that use the subject suffix –aqwa.

Oh Princess, I can at least list the participles I used in the translation above. Ah, let’s see. We have the interesting word aên, aêng those who are seen for the last tyme and ajar those who shine and ajáxas leaves, pak, ho·wa·usha, leaves on trees ond plantimals and ajaxeixíjo forests and árfha light and èlreu those who bellow, roar and Eqhùsqii a word for Eîl the Sun and fhìrem those who growl, snarl and fhrìrtlhe breezes, winds and fhuîn corses and ìjhetlha fall; those who fall down and járs, jàrsa wingfins, a word that keeps appearing in these first stanzary for some reason and jhkhoâplo those who scamper of, search fruitlesswise, crumble and jhùkhri, jhùkhrin those who wane, decrease and jhwíjo moons and jiên, jiênga ptowren and jòxhra, jeîroxhu large hils, aonach and khlòqa those who see someone or something and khmepáni a type of seagull, seamew, jEnakEos, duschio, feadar and khmixhèxhwar an abyss, Òrator, the Abyss swirling into the Utter Void, the Abyss of Language, abzu, apsû and khmùfha movement; those who move, go and khmúrur those who grumble, mumble; sound of grumbling, mumbling and khyaîrfha, khyakhyaîrfha those who flutter like unto fhaîfha, kàmemi, qemámi butterflies and fhwúqha moths, flitter, are papilionaceous and kí seas and lràrfheso shores, beaches and lràya phantoms, phantasms, appariciouns, spectren, dwimmerlaik, lutikäl, nIyma’ and lreqhíkhqeun those who rise and lriqhínxhan those who fall and lroân, lroâma those who breathe and lyowèngqa, lyowèngqamat those who notice someone or something and oakhúyi, oakhúyimat those who gather someone or something and pelìxhetha scurrying rocks, cliffs and pfhèsya those who are pale and qaê seas and qemámi a type of butterfly, chitrapataN^gaH pinpilinpauxa pab papalotl pepe, riOzos, ariz, lep̃V, áalaá, kxi, Φĭlm·źa and qèqyo, qèqyoim storms and qhùlwa the Abyss, the Abyss of Language, abzu, apsû and qlikhéyu those who yawn, gape and qlúti glow; those who glow and qòkhexhet bones and qyé those who flow and sikoâyi those who gleam, glow and sìpfhiqi evenings now, from now, from dusk to midnight and sqàti sky and Stél one of our words for Stars, Angels, Skydancers and tàlapal sea foam and Tàrjhi which has the same meaning as Stél and thingoîxei last things and thìpto, thithìpto seas, oceans and thìqyot darkleness, shade and thòkhruqi morning, from dawn to noon now, from now and Tír, tìrim those who are final, last, and it is also the name of an Khnìnthan someone in your book and tlháwa those who dissolve, melt someone or something and tlhèqha those who cry out, make a sound and tlheûxha those who hear someone or something and tlhìnta, tlhintelínge those who are bent o'er, fallen o'er, dead and tlhíwe the sound of wind blowing, especialwise in a clear sky and when referring unto wind, those who blow, especially in a clear sky and tlhòqnu the heavens, the cælestial realm and tnèkhukhakh, tnekhukhàkhmet those who depart, leave and trùnu, truînu those who blinik and tsàpro, tsatsàpro scurrying rocks, stones and tsèlpeu, tsèlpeun her or thair breasts, mammaries, bosom, cihuapilchichihualli vakShaHsthalam.h vakShoja bumasta chabDu’ ngech, intermammary sulcus, psténos, maliq’a, m’iskon, laniscal and may I say, my Princess, that you chose a rather ridiculous sounding word to refer unto one’s bosom, and tsìyu boats, living ships, pandimensional living ships and tuîpfhu, tuîpfhumet those who are fractured, broken and wtsètso, wtsenátso will·o’·Þe·wisp, jack·o’·lanthorns, færie lights, phosphorescent light on marshy ground, golowys pysky and wtsókekh those who see someone or something and wtsorèngta those who bend, curve someone or something and xhlèti, xhlètiti candles and xhlókh wingfins and xhlùrel, xhlùrelot clouds; those who are cloudy and xhnáxher those who blush, redden and xhoxhoxhàkhpe, xhoxhoxhakhpènthe photonick arks, rak, earc, ọrk, lenaf and xùjus those who are broken.

And once again we have another version of this stanza, once again represented in a rather odd and unintelligible idiom, but I reproduce it here as best I can.

T’uj Khojh’t’ijh’
The Last Ship
T’uj jh’ixh leq’ xim’
Waux qkham’ mejtakhm’ixh?
Pax fh’iqkhá tiq fh’irt’aq
Qaxpux jh’ixh tulú.
Fh’eifh’oq’ lotlhmoqmei-xéx rur.
Who shall see the white ship
As hit leaves the last military base?
There in the cold heart of the seas
White spirits exist.
They resemble wailing seamews.
T’uj jh’ixh tú xim’?
Jh’en. Q’eumei rur.
Lenfh’oq’ fh’iqkhát’aq
Khom’mei rurfh’oq’ telmeit’aq
Pepxeq’takh fh’iqkhá
Xhuxhtakht’ix fh’iq náx
Fh’ojh’takht’ix telmei
Ngafh’t’i wom’mokhwix.
Who shall notice the white ship?
It takes form. It resembles cooties.
In the receeding sea
In the wingfins that resemble Stars
The sea raises itself
Whilte salty water blows
While wingfins shin
While light vanishes.
Xhuxhfh’oq’ xhuxh qkhoi xim’?
Ngemmei pormei rur.
Jajh’fh’oq’ naq’mei jh’ixh rur.
Weutakht’ix maxh
Majh’jh’okhtakht’ix maxh
Lom weqkh rurt’ix
Fh’eutakht’ix jem’
M’ikhtakht’ix luxhpet.
Who shall hear the blowing wind?
Hit resembles leaves of forests.
Hit resembles white scurrying rocks screaming.
While the moon glows
While the moon grows smaller
While hit resembles the candle of a corpse
While the storm blows
While the blackhole moves about.
Tlhej-jh’uqfh’oq’ xengmei-xex leq’ xim’?
Pumfh’oq’ khut’meit’aq
Xhikhxeq’ jh’almei
Pepxeq’t’ix fh’iqkhá
Khofh’t’ix luxhpet
Khom’mei juxht’ix
Qkhifh’ qan xej
Pumfh’oq’ q’ormeit’aq pum.
Who shall see the clouds accompanying each other?
In the falling hills
The skies bend themselves
Whilst the ocean raises itself
Whilst the blackhole yawns
Whilst the old shadow passes
The stars, and
Falls at the falling city walls.
Naq’mei qijt’aq
Jh’almei-xéx luq’orpuxluxfh’oq’ fh’ingt’aq
T’ujé luq’orpuxluxfh’oq’ tú xim’
Weutakht’ix khom’á t’oq
Fh’ojh’takht’ix khomt’ux
Qaxhtakht’ix po qkham’?
Jh’os khojh’t’iq’ leq’ xim’?
On the black scurrying rocks
Under the skies which one hath broken
Who shall notice the ship which one hath broken
While the great red star glows
While the bones shine
In the last morning?
Who shall see the last twilight?

[1] Oilima Markirya. Again by J. R. R. Tolkien, the master of glossopoeia.

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