Eimaige Lhibre de l pintor Vittore Carpaccio(Traduçon dua cuonta pa Mirandés a pedido de l outor)
L GUNDOLEIRO
Por Gareth D. Jones
La proua negra de mie góndola slubiaba calmamente pulas serenas augas de las canales. La eilegante ambarcaçon habie-me serbido bien por muitos anhos, lhebando ls passageiros pulas canales d'auga de la cidade, criadas pulas sabidas manos de giraçones de antrepassados mius.
[An Anglés]
The Gongolier
The black prow of my gondola cut smoothly through the calm waters of the canals. The sleek craft had served me well for many years, carried passengers through the city’s waterways under the guiding hands of generations of my forebears.
The sun was setting over the ancient city, turning the water to an inky ribbon lain between elegant sandstone buildings. I breathed deeply of the cool evening breeze.
Was there any place more beautiful than this wondrous city of canals? As the boat eased into its mooring I stopped to gaze with satisfaction up into the darkening skies of Mars.
L sol çponie-se porriba la cidade antiga, streformando l'auga nua cinta tenhida antre eilegantes casas de cantarie. Respirei perfundamente l aire fresco de la nuite.
Eisiste lhugar mais guapo que aqueilha ancrible cidade de canales? Anquanto prendien l barco, parei-me a cuntemplar, cun sastifaçon, cumo se asselumbraba l cielo de Marte.
[An Anglés]
The Gongolier
The black prow of my gondola cut smoothly through the calm waters of the canals. The sleek craft had served me well for many years, carried passengers through the city’s waterways under the guiding hands of generations of my forebears.
The sun was setting over the ancient city, turning the water to an inky ribbon lain between elegant sandstone buildings. I breathed deeply of the cool evening breeze.
Was there any place more beautiful than this wondrous city of canals? As the boat eased into its mooring I stopped to gaze with satisfaction up into the darkening skies of Mars.
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário