Hotell / Hotel

Taas üks uus hotell

taas üks puhkepaik meile

kes me aina elust läbi tuiskame

kodune koht kõledal teel

Tule mu arm lebame voodil

langeme siidlinade embusse

 
nõrkeme kullake nõrkeme

joome veel sõõmu rõõmu

mis lahke saatus me karikasse valand

Hotellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Hotellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Hotelllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Me kohal

tuhat ööbikut laulma puhkeb

paradiis – meie oma siin ja praegu

puhkepaik

voodisiid

pehme ihu

                        ja

                             meie ise

                                            ise

Another new hotel

another rest stop

for us rushing through our lives

a homey place on a lonely road

Come my love let us lie down in bed

let us fall into the caress of silky sheets

let us relax my love relax

let us drink some joy

a kind fate has poured into our cup

Hotellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Hotellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Hotelllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Above us

a thousand nightingales burst into a song

paradise - ours here and now

rest stop

silky sheets

soft skin

                         and

                              us as we are

                    as we are                       

                                      

♥ Ernst Enno: Rändaja õhtulaul / Rover's Evening Song

Ma kõnnin hallil lõpmata teel

kesk nurmi, täis valmivat vilja,

ma kõnnin ja kõnnin otsata teel,

ju lapsena teesid armastas meel -

teed laulavad õhtu hilja. 

Need teed, kuis on nad nii kõvad kui keed,

need otsata kutsuvad jooned, -

ma kõnnin ja kõnnin, teed kõvad kui keed,

nii hallid ja tolmused kõik need teed,

need rändaja eluhooned. 

Ju lapsena teesid armastas meel,

ju lapsena kuulda tee juttu -

ju lapsena kõndi armastas meel,

oma laulu nii laulda hallil teel,

kui polekski ilmas ruttu.

 

Tund hiline nüüd, laulab lõpmata -

meel igatseb tolmuta randa,

tund hiline, tee on kõva kui kee,

mind hoiab kui mõrsjaks enesele -

ei siiski saa pärale kanda. 

Ma kõnnin hallil lõpmata teel

kesk nurmi, täis valmivat vilja,

 

ma kõnnin ja kõnnin otsata teel,

kui teede laul, tee helisev meel,

ja kõik on õhtu nii hilja.

 

Treading on an endless gray road

between the fields full of ripening grain,

treading and treading on an endless road,

early on I was drawn to roads –

roads sing late at night.

How tough these roads, they are as chains,

these endless inviting lines –

treading and treading, these roads tough as chains,

so gray and dusty, all these roads,

    a rover’s living quarters. 

Early on my mind was drawn to roads,

early on to listen to the roads speaking,

early on my mind was drawn to tread,

to sing my own song on a gray road,

as if there’s no hurry in the world.

The late hour is singing endlessly –

my mind desiring to reach a shore without dust,

the late hour, the road tough as a chain

keeps me as a bride for itself –

but it can’t take me there. 

Treading on an endless gray road

between the fields of ripening grain,

treading and treading on an endless road;

the song of roads, the ring of roads

and all is so late at night.

Translated by Airi Looman, edited by Les Wilson