at lytte til bækkenes fortrolige klukken
English translation: to listen to the quiet babbling of the brook
| 17:45 May 3, 2010 |
| Danish to English translations [Non-PRO] Art/Literary - Poetry & Literature / natur | |||||||
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|  Selected response from: Soren Petersen United States Local time: 08:12 | ||||||
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| 4 | to listen to the quiet babbling of the brook |
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| 3 | listening to the familiar gurgle of the brook |
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| Discussion entries: 3 | |
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Answers
6 mins confidence: 
to listen to the quiet babbling of the brook Explanation: bækken = brook klukken = babbling ville være mit bud. Måske 'intimate' i stedet for 'quiet' ? -------------------------------------------------- Note added at 8 mins (2010-05-03 17:54:01 GMT) -------------------------------------------------- en bæk = a brook |
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14 hrs confidence:
listening to the familiar gurgle of the brook Explanation: I have had my dictionaries out... There are lots of options on this: why has the Danish writer chosen ´klukken´ rather than ´rislen´, which is often associated with a ´bæk´? ´Fortrolig´... intimate, as in friendly, soothing, The sound is homely and comforting in the background, perhaps like a small child gurgling contentedly in its cot or playing in its own little world, talking to the toys. I am not musical, and often ´tone deaf´ to poetry, but this one, which I learned by heart at school, got through even to me! Tennyson has lots of suggestions... http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-brook-2/ The Brook by Alfred Lord Tennyson I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorpes, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever. I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever. I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling, And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel, And draw them all along, and flow To join the brimming river For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever. I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers; I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses; I linger by my shingly bars; I loiter round my cresses; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever. |
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