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3 Poems by Carl Sandburg



coi mi'e la tuerp

No, I didn't die ... I was just *restin'* ... winters have been developing
the habit of being lousy for me. I did very little *jbogunka* except for
reading the list mail.

I did start translating some poems -- several from a Carl Sandburg collection
called "Wind Song" (poems for children), and two from Leonard Cohen's early
collection, "The Spice-Box of Earth" (poems for adults). I will post the
three most-done of the Sandburg poems for your scrutiny and comments. All
lujvo, BTW, use the old rafsi. I don't have a list of the new ones (hint,
hint!).

These poems ARE loaded with all sorts of grammatical errors. It's, uh, a
test; yes, I'm *testing* your knowlege of Lojban grammar, right.

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lo ci pemci se finti la karl SAND,byrg


dibyzda


vizi dai goi ko'a poi lemi dibyfri cu dibdji lenu rolstu zmapo'e

.i mi pu tirna ko'a va le vacri po'e lo nicte ca mi tirna lenu lo mamta cu
selsanga co vrucau seva'u lo verba poi ke'a selraktu je fengu vi leka manku


***

canko


le nicte vaga'a lo trene canko
cu barda je manku je runti da
poi popselgu'i le'i jangusmo'a


***

selze'a cange tumla


claga'u mudrytercrepu pu vi snaji'e di'o vi lo zumtumla cange sekoi la monon

.i vi ku lei genja be lo xabminli sela'u bei lei tricu pu condi kakpa leri
li'ergenja ne'i le frecandre sezu'e ja'irba'u fi le bifyvilcarvi

.i babo lei mudyka'a pu klama gi'e lei cmamudyspi cu voicliva teki'i le
jimdaxsa'e co gasta je terja'i

.i lei tsacinla garnyka'afendi pamoi katna lei barda noi lei tricybitc .e
tricy'ouk ke'o babo lei cmatricu

.i le pojri'arDINamita .e bevrycarce .e xirma pu lebna lei tricyjamfa gi'e
lei plixa cu pezybatci gi'e cabo taifre zumri tumla gi'e selze'a tumla gi'e
lei xarju cu bacru seri'a lei selrepydja

.i cababo nadmorji fa levi xabminli sela'u le selze'a cange tumla
        sekoi la monon zumri tumla
        gi vi pagbu le banli sratu'u
        gi fa la'edi'e puka kaspo'e lo banli sanga lanzu co tricu

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Three Poems by Carl Sandburg (from the "Wind Song" collection)


Home

Here is a thing my heart wishes
the world had more of:

I heard it in the air of one night
when I listened to a mother
singing softly to a child
restless and angry in the darkness.

***

Window

Night from a railroad car window
Is a great, dark, soft thing
Broken across with slashes of light.

***

Improved Farm Land

Tall timber stood here once,
here on a corn belt farm along the Monon.

Here the roots of a half mile of trees
dug their runners deep in the loam
for a grip and a hold against windstorms

Then the axmen came and the chips flew
to the zing of steel and handle --
the lank railsplitters cut the big ones first
the beeches and oak, then the brush.

Dynamite, wagons and horses took the stumps --
the plows sunk their teeth in --
now it is first-class corn land -- improved property --
and the hogs grunt over the fodder crops

It would come hard now for this half mile of improved farm land
along the Monon corn belt
on a piece of Grand Prairie
to remember once it had a great singing family of trees

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Don't think of them as bad translations; think of them as incentive for poor
old Carl to spin in his grave.

co'o mi'e deived tueris goi la tuerp