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Arli-Romani: Text

Information

Narrator: Džemail Bajram *1943

Origin: Šuto Orizari, Skopje, Mazedonien

Recording: 1969 Wien

Source: Phonogrammarchiv der OAW: PhA B 37250 (SH 1945)

Soundfile on:

Fennesz-Juhasz, Christiane / Heinschink, Mozes F. / Wallaszkovits, Nadja. 2003. O romnije zelenije ... Romenge paramisa taj gila – Frau, du grüne ... Märchen und Lieder der Roma [3 CDs]. Graz/Wien: Romani-Projekt CD 3: CD1/track2.

Romani text and German translation published in:

Cech, Petra / Fennesz-Juhasz, Christiane / Halwachs, Dieter W. / Heinschink, Mozes F. 2003. E bengali Romni. So Roma phenen taj gilabenDie schlaue Romni. Märchen und Lieder der Roma. Klagenfurt/Celovec: Drava: 68-73.

English translation: Ulla and Henry Briscoe.

E Fatma pe dade te lel

Šunen akari, te vakerav tumenge me nešto, akana kija gili so šungjen, odija-j so vakeri pe „Fatma pe dade te lel“. Odija-j tuke jek sa i paramis i gili. Samo po šukar te vakerav tumenge, kaj odova-j tuke čirutno istorisko, ko purano čirutno vakti. Odova sine, so džanav me, taj tu taj amen sa, so bešaja, odova sine odžahare:

Uštingja jek kovači, sine le romni taj jek čhaj. Ej, uštingja adije-tajsa, adije-tajsa, alo o edželi e romnjakoro, e romni muli. Ali tajsarin, ked muli e romni, uštindža akana e čhaj, te pomožine e dade, sar čhajake. Ali ked geli ki dućana, pravdža e dućana, šulavdja la, i alo o dad lakoro. Sine nese nalče, te namestinen pe, ali lelja o dad, phenol: „Le, Fatma, o baro čekići!“ Ked lelja e Fatma o baro čekići, khuvindoj, marindoj, čhindili lakiri dugma. Ked čhindili lakiri dugma, uštingja o dad lakoro, vakergja: „Oh, Fatmam, akana bezendingjan mange, bezendingja to kolin sar te dakoro kolin.“ Ked šundža e čhaj, uštingja, vakerdža: „Pusto te ačhol da akava čokano, akava čekići!“

Uštindža, muklja o čekići, geli ki pi tetka. Khuvindoj, rovindoj geli ki pi tetka e pučhol pe tetka: „Jeli, teze, teze, ovla li dad čhaja te lel?“ Uštindža e teza: „Ovla sinko, ovla, lele sar na ovela.“ Uštindža e Fatma: „Thar len, pek len, Devla, te tate barenca!“ Odžahar alo lake pharipe. Uštel, džal ko po dajo. Geli ko po dajo, pučhel le isto adžahar, ma te predužinav but. Pučhel: „Ovla li o dad čhaja te lel?“ Ked isto o dajo da vakeri: „Ovla, Fatma, ovla, lele sar na ovela?“ Ked šundža e Fatma odova, pale vakerdža: „Thar len, Devla, pek len te tate barenca!“ Znači: O Devel t’ avel lenge doha.

Uštel da i Fatma, džal ko po phral. – Pazinen, akaja but nešto interesno i fino. Naj nešto odžahar te vakerav, kaj hohavno, nego odova but šukar. Svako te šunol, em te šunel ustvari. Me da na džanav sar te izrazina-pes akale lafeste, so o dat mislindža e čhajake. – Oj da džal pe phraleste, pučhel e phrale: „O re phrala, phrala, te pučhav tu nešto.“ Pučhla le sa, ovla li ... „Ovla, ovla phene, lele sar na ovela?“, vakerdža lake. Oj da vakerdža: „Thar len, pek len, Devla, te tate barenca!“

Uštel, džal pe dajake ko grobo. Ked geli pe dajake ko grobo, lelja te rovol, khuvindoj, marindoj. O Devel, šućur leske, šundža sa, dindža lakere daja dživapi, gajreti, jeg glaso te odgovorini lake, te irini lake. Oj pučhel pe daja: „Lele daje, daje, dali ovla dad čhaja te lel?“ – „Sar k’ ovol, čhaje, čhaje, tu gudlije? Thar len, pek len, Devla, te tate barenca!“, vakerdža e daj. Nego: „Šun ma, Fatma, čhaje, tu te astare tuke – tu vaker leske, kaj ka-dža leha, sar k’ ovel baba, nego te le tuke, sinko, trin da parne guske. Trine parnen gusken te le tuke. Aj te astare tuke Vrjanska muzikatar.“

Uštindža da e Fatma, džal khere rovindoj, kukindoj. Geli pe dadeste taj vakerela: „Šun baba, baba! Baba tu gudleja. Tu vakerdžan odova lafi, odova da neka ovel hajirlija.“ – Sar vakerena akala khoraja, me na mangav te vakerav. Po šukar mangav te vakerav mange pravo Romane: „Tu baba, te manglan, te astare mange Vrajnska muzikatar taj trine gusken te čhine, ondak me šaj te ovav kli, tu mlo.“ Uštindilo da o dad, kerdža sa so mangla e čhaj, e Fatma.

Ali ked alo o vreme ki većera taj ko kova sa dindža pe odova, ali alo o vreme, odola trin guske parne, odola trin dželatija parne moskere sine. Na sine trin guske nego trin dželatija. Ked ale leske trin dželatija parne, pučhen le: „Dali ko džihani mangeja dali ko kazani?“, pučhle le. „Ej sar ko kazani“, phenol, „koga sijum džihaneske?“ – „Ej,“ phenla, „tu naje tu odova drom! Aver drom počindžan, aver drom kazavršine!“ E adžahare uštinde, ole ko kazani a e rakla ko džihani.

Odori bilačhipe, akari šukaripe.

Fatma is to take her father for a husband

Listen, I would like to tell you something. The song that you have just heard is called "Fatma is to take her father for a husband". This is both a story and a song. It's better to tell you the story because it is old and really happened. It happened in ancient times - what do I, you, all of us sitting here know, when it happened exactly. It occurred as follows:

Once upon a time there was a blacksmith who had a wife and a daughter. One day, the hour of death arrived for the wife. The woman passed away. The next day, after the woman had died, the girl went to help the father, as befits a daughter. When she came to the workshop, she unlocked the door, swept the floor, and there her father arrived. There were horses to be shod. The father said: "Fatma, get the big hammer!" When Fatma took the big hammer and repeatedly hammered, one of her buttons popped off. When the button came off, her father said: "Oh, my dear Fatma, now you have reminded me, your breasts remind me of your mother's." When the girl heard this, she replied: "Damn this hammer!"

She stood up, dropped the hammer and went to see her aunt. Tearing her hair in horror, crying, she ran to her aunt and asked her: "Aunt, aunt, alas, is it permissible for a father to court his daughter?" The aunt replied: "It is permissible, my child, of course, why not?" Then Fatma said: "Burn them, scorch them, God with your hot stones!" That is how heavily it weighed on her heart. She got up and went to see her uncle. When she arrived she asked him exactly the same, I do not wish to dwell on this for long. She asked: "Is it permissible for a father to court his daughter?" The uncle also replied: "Of course, Fatma, it is permissible, why not?" When Fatma heard this, she cursed again: "Burn them, scorch them, God with your hot stones!" This meant that God shall be her witness.

Finally Fatma also went to see her brother. Listen carefully, this is where things get very interesting! Not just something made up, but truly unusual. Everyone should listen and pay attention. I do not know how to put into words what the father had planned for his daughter. She went to see her brother and asked him: "Oh, dear brother, brother, I must ask you something." She asked him, it was admissible, and so on. "It is permitted, sister, of course, and why not?" he told her. She replied: "Burn them, scorch them, God with your hot stones!"

Now she went to her mother's grave. When she arrived there, she burst into tears, tearing her hair in horror. God, thanks be to him, had heard everything. He gave her mother a voice so that she could answer. The girl asked her mother: "Oh mother, mother, is it permissible for a father to court his daughter?" – "How should this be possible, my dear daughter? Burn them, scorch them, God, with your hot stones!” the mother replied. She continued: "Listen to me, Fatma, my child, tell your father that you will go with him, and everything will turn out for the best. But, my child, you have to get me three white geese. You have to ask for three white geese. And you have to get music from Vranje. "

Fatma got up and went home, weeping and wailing. She went to her father and said: "Listen, father, my dear father! What you have said, it shall be alright." Just as the Turks say. I do not wish to dwell on this, and I better say it directly in Romanes: "Father, if you are willing to order me music from Vranje and to slaughter three geese for me, then I can be yours and you can be mine." The father did everything that his daughter Fatma requested.

But when dinnertime approached and all of it had happened, when it got really serious, the three white geese turned out to be three pale executioners. For they were not three geese, but three executioners. When the three pale executioners walked up to him, they asked him: "Would you rather choose the world or the cauldron?" – "Why the cauldron," he said, "when I am destined for the world?" – "Ah," replied one, "this path is not for you. Another path you have commenced, another end you will take! "And so he went into the cauldron, but the girl was saved.

There the evil, here the good.