Super Man (R. E. M.)

Language: Dutch

Part 2 of the Superman trilogy. The song here isn't terribly interesting, because the original repeats itself so much, but oh well.

I have yet to hear anything official, but I think it's safe to assume that I didn't get the job I interviewed for, and it probably has been safe to assume this for some time. I have mixed feelings about this, many of which are depression.

-Jessi

- - - - - - - - - - - -

[a]
I'm a super man, I am, (Am I?) and I know what I happened.
I'm a super man, I am, and I can do, no matter what.

Do you make love with that guy? Now it's not really you.
I know that guy loves you, 'cause I see it exactly; you cannot.

[a]

[b]
I will trust you, little girl, if you leave me a million miles below, on
the way to your heart. Follow when I say I know.

[b]

[a] [a]

Nightswimming (R. E. M.)

Language: Portuguese

This is very likely my favorite
R. E. M. song ever, and it's up there in the top 50 songs period, probably, unless I think of others. (I've never sat down and tried to come up with a list, which is strange, since it's totally the kind of thing I would do.) Though as soon as I say that, I'm going to think of another song of theirs that I think is better.

(Well, "Belong" is nice. Though I'm not sure it's better. And I probably couldn't get away with using a picture of a bioluminescent squid for "Belong." It'd depend on what you envision for the "those creatures jumped the barricades" lines.)

In any case. I like it, a lot of other people like it, and if you're still reading this, then odds are good that you think it's at least okay.

-Jessi

Squid photo by Dany Weinberg, found through Pharyngula

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Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
The photograph in the dashboard:
the years have made an examination,
the lathe stops, turned in backwards, thus the windscreen shows.
Each streetlight discloses the reversed picture.
Still, it is very clear.
I forgot myself, my shirt, in the edge of the water.
The night's moon is low today.

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
I am not certain I understand all these people.
He isn't, as he has years. He stopped the fear to start, of recklessness and the water.
They cannot see me undressed.
These things, leave, substituted for daily.

Nightswimming, remembering this night.
Septembers that come soon. I pine for the moon.
Two, side by side in the orbit around the sun. Will that be more just?
That shining drum, pressed forever,
could not describe nightswimming.

I thought that you knew it.
I cannot judge who you
thought that you knew: me, you, him. Quiet,
this laughing at my breath, underneath.
Nightswimming.

The photograph reflects that, each streetlight is a reminder.
Nightswimming deserves a quiet night,
deserves a quiet night.

Losing My Religion (R.E.M.)

Language: Italian

I worried, as anyone would, about whether R.E.M. would make suitable Babelpop subjects. Their lyrics do often sound like they've already been run through Babelfish. I mean, what would you expect to happen to a line like "Mister Fred Blassie in a breakfast mess?"¹

I think I was right to worry, now that I've done it. A word here, a word there, but it's still really really easy to see the original song through the changes. Oh well.

-Jessi

(¹What happens in German is, "They blow Mr. Fred in confusion at breakfast." I'm sure we've all had mornings like that. It seems plausible that German is the only language that results in interesting R.E.M. lyrics.)

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The life is greater:
it's larger than you, and you aren't me.
The lengths that I will go to,
the distance in your eyes –
oh, no, I have dictated too much of that;
I have installed it.

That one in the angle is me;
that is me in the reflector,
that loses my religion,
that tries to continue with you,
and I don't know if I can make it.
Oh, no, I have I dictated too much,
I haven't said enough.
You felt the thought that (to me) is the laughing;
thought that they have to feel to sing.
I've thought that they've seen tasks to try.

Every whisper,
awakening every hour, I am choosing confessions of mine,
that they try to maintain. An eye to you,
a hurt, lost, foolish and blinded –
Oh, no, I have said that too much;
I have installed it.

Consider this
the suggestion of the century;
consider this
the sliding that's carried me,
that has come to lack knees.
What if all these fantasies come flailing around?
Has said too much –
the thought, that is; you felt my laughing.
They have to sing, that thought is felt,
I have thought them up tasks that they have to try. I saw.

But that one was a dream, right?
That was a dream, right?