Ei oo ehtoisa sia; Not a Lovely Destination

 I have written this poem using the Ingrian language that my grandmother spoke. I checked the conjugations with Wiktionary. I also looked up words from the dictionary of Ingrian dialects that I received a week ago, edited by R. E. Nirvi in 1971.

Ei oo ehtoisa sia

Miun troppa on olt kivegäs.
Siks en pölkää orastuvaa surmaa.
Miä vaa sallin, jod en synny
uuelleen tähä miraa.
Tää mailma ei oo
ehtoisa sia.
© Yelling Rosa
2024-05-13

 

 

Not a Lovely Destination

My path has been rocky.
That’s why I’m not afraid
of impending death.
I only hope I’m not born
on this planet again.
This world is not
a lovely destination.
© Yelling Rosa
2024-05-13

 

 

My Poem in Ingrian and in English

 I have written this poem using the Ingrian language that my grandmother spoke. I checked the conjugations with Wiktionary. I also looked up words from the dictionary of Ingrian dialects that I received a week ago, edited by R. E. Nirvi in 1971.

Miä oon väsynt 

Miä oon väsynt.
Uni ono karttant minnua.
Oon nukkunt vähä,
ku kokkoi taivaal lentää.
Oon nukkunt vähä
ku pölhö pydä hirilöijä.
Miä vaa sallin,
sto koolo tulloo
ennen ko musto
jättää.
© Yelling Rosa
2024-05-03

 

 

In English

I’m tired.
Sleep eludes me.
I have slept badly
When the eagle in the sky flies.
I have slept badly
When an eagle owl hunts mice.
I hope
that death will come
before I lose
my memory.
© Yelling Rosa
2024-05-03

 

 

Why Am I Sad, Cur triste sum

Why Am I Sad

Why am I sad?
Why can't I do anything?
Fate has stuffed me with ideas,
But has forgotten to give me
The resources.
Now, I walk and blame myself.
How happy would I be
If I thought less and I could do
More.
© Yelling Rosa
2024-03-28

 

Cur triste sum
 

Cur triste sum.
Cur nihil facere possum.
Fato habet farcito me
cum ideas sed oblitterābat
dare ad me facultates.
Nunc ambulo et vituperō me.
Quam felice mi esseream
si cogito minus
et possum facere
plus.
© Yelling Rosa
2024-03-28

 

If You Want to Survive

 

If You Want to Survive

When the memories of youth’s sins
Knock at your old age heart
Don’t open the door.
The open-door policy doesn’t
Make the sins disappear
But paints black also
The wisdom of maturity.
© Yelling Rosa
2024-03-23

I Saw a Little Angel

 

I saw a little angel at the edge of the forest.
As I approached her, I saw her crying.
Without asking, she replied:
The forest no longer responds to invitations.
Flora has left this world
because its cruelty shocked her.
Soon, Fauna will be gone, too.
They go to another planet,
where the Creator brings oxygen and water,
but not people.

Why are you crying?

Isn't that a good thing?

We Guardian Angels die

together with those we protect.

We have failed in our mission.

Then we sat on the rock hand in hand

to wait for the end of this world.

I winked at the angel and asked:

"Is this going to take long"?

The girl couldn't be

without smiling.

© Yelling Rosa

2024-02-13

My Guitar; Cithara meo

 My Guitar

My guitar sounds sad
While being without you.
It has lost a sense
Of sweet love.
© Yelling Rosa
2024-02-01

Cithara meo

Cithara meo sona triste
cum re es sine te.
Id ha perdito sensu
de amore dulce.
© Yelling Rosa
2024-02-01

The Key to the Door of Solutions

 

The Key to the Door of Solutions

People,
those geniuses,
solve the problem by creating a new,
more significant problem.
In that way, the primary concern
seems insignificant.
The man is clever.
We always have a key
for the door of solutions.
© Yelling Rosa
2024-01-20