Fifty Bad Translations
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S’enduien veus d’infants el sol que jo mirava. Tota la llum d’estiu se’m feia enyor de somni. El rellotge, al blanc mur, diu com se’n va la tarda. S’encalma un vent suau pels camins del capvespre. Potser demà vindran encara lentes hores de claror per als ulls d'aquest esguard tan àvid. Però ara és la nit. I he quedat solitari a la casa dels morts que només jo recordo.
Children’s voices were taken the sun I was looking at All the summer light I was longing for sleep. The clock, on the white wall, says how the afternoon goes. A gentle wind calms down along the sunset paths. Maybe tomorrow they will come still slow hours of clarity for the eyes of this avid gaze. But now it’s night. And I’ve been lonely in the house of the dead that only I remember