Nauh niwi liuþ

[Fredrik]

The poet strikes again!

Just kidding. But I've tried to translate a poem.
I just need your ideas about my word choices and ways to express.

The original from which I translated is in swedish so now I will try 
to translate the same one to english for you to understand.
The english translation is probably much mor correct and the gothic 
is more freely translated.

Gothic first:

Jai þannu agliþ


Jai þannu agliþ hvan bruteis bristand.
Duhvê sáinjái wêzr?
Duhvê bindada alla gaírnei unsara sô heitô
in þamma frusanin báitrafalwin?
Hulþs was bruts sa alla wintrus.
Hva ist þata niujô, þatei taíriþ jah spraggeiþ?
Jai þannu agliþ hvan bruteis bristand,
agliþ þamma wahsjandin
                              jah þamma lukandin.

Jai þannu aglus ist hvan drupans driusand.
Reirands fram karai kauruba eis hahand,
haftjand sik ana taina, swilland, gleidand -
Dalaþ ins þinsai kaurus, hvaiwa kliggand.
Aglus wisan unwiss, faurhts jah skaidans,
Aglus ufkunnan diupein þo þinsandein jah haitandein,
nauh bileiban sitands jah þatain skudon -
aglus bileiban wiljan
                              jah driusan wiljan.

Þan, hvan wairsist ist jah ni waihts hilpiþ,
Bristand swe in wunjai brusteis bagmis.
Þan, hvan ni faurhtei ju þanaseiþs haldiþ,
driusand in glitmunjai drupans tainis
ufarmaudjand þatei þlahsnanai wesun fram þamma niujin
ufarmaudjand þatei karanai wesun bi fara -
ufkunnun aina stika þo þwastiþa mikiliston seinon,
hveiland in þizai triggwein
                              þizaiei faihvu gaskapjiþ.


And now, here's my affort to english translation:

Yes it does hurt when sprouts/buds burst.
Why else would the spring hesitate?
Why would all our hot longing
be tied in the frozen bitterpale?
Hidden was the sprout the entire winter.
What's the new, tearing and blasting?
Yes it does hurt when sprouts burst,
hurting for the growing
	and the closing

Yes it's hard when dropps are falling.
Quaking by anxiety they're haning heavily,
clinging by the twig, swelling, gliding
the weight pulling them down, how they cling.
Hard to be uncertain, afraid and devided,
hard to feel the pulling and calling from the depth,
still remain sitting and just shiver
hard to wanting to stay
	and wanting to fall

Then, when it's worst and nothing helps,
bursting, like jubilation, the sprouts of the tree.
Then, when no fear no longer will hold
fall in a glitter the drops of the twig
forget that they were scared by the new
forget that they were anxious about the journey
feel for a second their greatest safety,
resting in the confidence
	that creates the world

Site of poeam
http://geocities.yahoo.com/filemanager/advancededitor

Swedish:
http://www.karinboye.se/verk/dikter/dikter/ja-visst-gor-det-ont.shtml


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