Young Writers Society

This is a translation of a Czech song/ballad titled "The Comet," by Jaromír Nohavica. As such, I take no credit as its author, merely as a translator. Here is a link to the original: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQrC0mSRNUk

Translating this work proved very challenging, because of the essential syntactic differences between Slavic and Germanic languages. However, having done my best to retain the original message, and having confidently retained it very well, along with the meter and form, I feel quite satisfied with the translation.

This song touched me very deeply, and since Czech is such an unknown, yet beautiful language, I wanted others to be able to share this poetic joy with me. So, behold, The Comet...

The Comet

I glanced at the comet, in excellent beauty drawn,
as I rushed forth to sing, I saw then that it had gone,
gone like a gentle doe in the great woodland maze,
mere golden specs and jewels now reflect in my gaze.

Those lustrous gemstones I buried beneath a tree,
when it next passes by, we all shall withered be,
yes, we'll all withered be, oh petty human pride,
I glanced at the comet, with sorrowful woe I cried.

Of the seas, of the grass, of the trees,
of our deaths, with which we shan't ever be at peace.
Of ancient love, of the Earth, of our woes,
and every soul that from this fine world once arose.

Wagons do shudder upon the sky's railway,
as Kepler wrote the laws for the star gone astray,
as he searched, 'till he found lying amidst the stars,
secrets of space which we fervently guard as ours.

Greatest of nature's myths, timeless in secrecy,
that every man is born of woman's decency,
that roots and branches together do raise an oak,
blood of our hopes and dreams throughout space softly spoke.

I spotted the comet, as if carved from mountains gray
by hands of artisans who long since have passed away.
I climbed to the heavens, my hands reached out in despair,
vanity stripped my soul all but completely bare.

Like David from marble carved, glistening as a dove,
I stood in awe, gazing there, gazing right up above -
when it next passes by, oh vain pride, ever-strong,
we'll all have perished then, but another shall sing our song,

Of the seas, of the grass, of the trees,
of our deaths, with which we shan't ever be at peace.
Of great love, treachery, of the Earth,
this is a song about us and the Comet's birth.