I don’t speak…

Tags

bucket list, chinese, french, German, greek, hebrew, irony, Italian, japanese, Kannada, language, learning, mathematician, nerd, norwegian, Portuguese, Spanish, Tamil, Ukrainian

Some people have normal bucket list goals, like skydiving, or hiking Mt. Kiliminjaro.  Whatever, I’ve got those too, but until then, I’ve got this unique goal:

I want to learn how to say, “I don’t speak X language” in every language, where X is the name of the language.  My totally arbitrary rules for my totally random life goal include the fact that I am not allowed to just google the answer, I have to be taught by a friend who speaks the language.

I’m up to 14 languages, so I’d like to share.  Please add any additional languages that you speak in the comments section!  (with the phonetic spelling, also, if you please)  ‘Cause we’re all friends, right?  Right?

I wrote my phonetic interpretation, the google translate version of any symbols, and the English translation.  I apologize for any mistakes!  Feel free to correct them; this is about learning.

Jeg snakker ikke norsk  — I don’t speak Norwegian.

Den milao elinika (Δεν μιλάω ελληνικά) — I don’t speak Greek.

Watashi wa Nihongo o hanashimasen (私は日本語が話せません) — I don’t speak Japanese.

Wobushwo putong hwa (我不會講普通話) — I don’t speak Chinese.

I am not a member of the set of mathematicians — I don’t speak mathematician.

Je suis désolé, je ne parle pas français — I’m sorry, I don’t speak French.

medaberet ‘ivrit — (אני לא מדבר עברית) — I don’t speak Hebrew

Nanege Kannada gotella (ನಾನು ಕನ್ನಡ ಮಾತನಾಡುವುದಿಲ್ಲ) — I don’t speak Kannada.

Teriadu Tamil (நான் தமிழ் பேச வேண்டாம்) — I don’t speak Tamil.

Yah nee rosmovayu Ukrayinskoyu (Я не говорю український) — I don’t speak Ukrainian.

Ich kein nicht Deutsch spreche — I don’t speak German.

No hablo español — I don’t speak Spanish.

Não falo português — I don’t speak Portuguese.

Non parlo italiano — I don’t speak Italian.

La noche oscura, por San Juan de la Cruz

Tags

Dark Night of the Soul, faith, La noche oscura del alma, poetry, religion, Saint John of the Cross, San Juan de la Cruz, Spanish

This is a classic poem, originally written in Spanish by Saint John of the Cross (the English translation is below but it is not as pretty).  The dark night of the soul refers to a period of spiritual crisis, where the believer finds it difficult to believe.  In the poem, the narrator resolves the crisis and finds himself at peace once more in the garden of his beliefs.

La noche oscura

En una noche oscura,
con ansias en amores inflamada,
(¡oh dichosa ventura!)
salí sin ser notada,
estando ya mi casa sosegada.

A oscuras y segura,
por la secreta escala disfrazada,
(¡oh dichosa ventura!)
a oscuras y en celada,
estando ya mi casa sosegada.

En la noche dichosa,
en secreto, que nadie me veía,
ni yo miraba cosa,
sin otra luz ni guía
sino la que en el corazón ardía.

Aquésta me guïaba
más cierta que la luz del mediodía,
adonde me esperaba
quien yo bien me sabía,
en parte donde nadie parecía.

¡Oh noche que me guiaste!,
¡oh noche amable más que el alborada!,
¡oh noche que juntaste
amado con amada,
amada en el amado transformada!

En mi pecho florido,
que entero para él solo se guardaba,
allí quedó dormido,
y yo le regalaba,
y el ventalle de cedros aire daba.

El aire de la almena,
cuando yo sus cabellos esparcía,
con su mano serena
en mi cuello hería,
y todos mis sentidos suspendía.

Quedéme y olvidéme,
el rostro recliné sobre el amado,
cesó todo, y dejéme,
dejando mi cuidado
entre las azucenas olvidado.

Dark Night of the Soul

Upon a darkened night
The flame of love was burning in my breast
And by a lantern bright
I fled my house while all in quiet rest

Shrouded by the night
And by the secret stair I quickly fled
The veil concealed my eyes
While all within lay quiet as the dead.

O, night thou was my guide!
O, night more loving than the rising sun!
O, night that joined the Lover to the beloved one!
Transforming each of them into the other.

Upon that misty night
In secrecy beyond such mortal sight
Without a guide or light
Than that which burned as deeply in my heart.

That fire ’twas led me on
And shone more bright than of the midday sun
To where He waited still
It was a place where no one else could come.

Within my pounding heart
Which kept itself entirely for Him
He fell into His sleep
beneath the cedars all my love I gave.

From o’er the fortress walls
The wind would brush His hair against His brow
And with its smoother hand
caressed my every sense it would allow.

I lost my self to Him
And laid my face upon my Lover’s breast
And care and grief grew dim
As in the morning’s mist became the light.
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair.