Jojo, premiéra na poslední chvíli, fakt nářez, nemluvě o tom, čemu se říká "promotion".
S těma titulkama na ruského Hobbita opatrně, já je nezkoušela, ale podle reakcí ostatních jsou jednak velmi špatné (jazykově) a hlavně "posunuté".
Každopádně, jestli bys to nějak nezvládla bez nich, není co řešit.
Jenom malá nápověda, skřeti jsou to, co jsem nejdřív myslela, že jsou elfové a elfové nejsou vůbec. Jak mi kdosi vysvětlil, vzhledem k datu vzniku museli být "buržoazní cosi" nebo "šlechta", čímž je to dáno.
Dokonce mi kdosi řekl, že o Pánovi prstenů psali tenkrát i někde v socialistickém tisku, přičemž zlo samozřejmě u Tolkiena přišlo z východu, což tady holt neprošlo vůbec, takže chudáci skřeti byli utlačovaná pracující třída, která marně bojovala proti té šlechticko-čarodějnicko-kulacké (co jiného jsou hobbiti) verbeži. Fakt, zcela výjimečně nelžu ani nepřeháním.
Ostatně paní Pošustová na jednom TolkienConu říkala, že PP měla přeloženého dávno před rokem 1989, ale nesmělo se to vydat, a pak to musela překládat znovu, protože ten původní překlad byly samozřejmě v ruce psané haldy papírů, které se různě poztrácely, vybledly, a vůbec...
Svatá pravda, to bude zase doba, než vyrukují s dalším produkčním videem. Podle mě počkají ještě tak měsíc, než TH vyjde na nějakém nosiči.
Já jsem si ho objednala ofiko, musím vydržet ještě cca 6 týdnů.
Zkusím Ti něco poslat přes Úschovnu nebo Leteckou poštu, ale nejsem si jistá, jestli to projde.
Editace 5.2.:
Nový link na kompletní hudbu, ten, který jsem dávala předtím je už bloklý, ale tohle snad bude fungovat:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CuBWqdSk ... e&t=21m58sKdyž se tak jeden "nudí" nebo baví, jak chceš:
Porovnání textů písně Osamělé hory:
Originál:
Over the Misty Mountains Cold by J. R. R. Tolkien
Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To seek our pale enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells,
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught,
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, on twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.
Goblets they carved there for themselves,
And harps of gold, where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.
The pines were roaring on the heights,
The wind was moaning in the night,
The fire was red, it flaming spread,
The trees like torches blazed with light.
The bells were ringing in the dale,
And men looked up with faces pale.
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire,
Laid low their towers and houses frail.
The mountain smoked beneath the moon.
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled the hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.
Far over the Misty Mountains grim,
To dungeons deep and caverns dim,
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!
The wind was on the withered heath,
But in the forest stirred no leaf:
There shadows lay be night or day,
And dark things silent crept beneath.
The wind came down from mountains cold,
And like a tide it roared and rolled.
The branches groaned, the forest moaned,
And leaves were laid upon the mould.
The wind went on from West to East;
All movement in the forest ceased.
But shrill and harsh across the marsh,
Its whistling voices were released.
The grasses hissed, their tassels bent,
The reeds were rattling--on it went.
O'er shaken pool under heavens cool,
Where racing clouds were torn and rent.
It passed the Lonely Mountain bare,
And swept above the dragon's lair:
There black and dark lay boulders stark,
And flying smoke was in the air.
It left the world and took its flight
Over the wide seas of the night.
The moon set sale upon the gale,
And stars were fanned to leaping light.
Under the Mountain dark and tall,
The King has come unto his hall!
His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,
And ever so his foes shall fall!
The sword is sharp, the spear is long,
The arrow swift, the Gate is strong.
The heart is bold that looks on gold;
The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
On silver necklaces they strung
The light of stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, from twisted wire
The melody of harps they wrung.
The mountain throne once more is freed!
O! Wandering folk, the summons heed!
Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste!
The king of freind and kin has need.
Now call we over the mountains cold,
'Come back unto the caverns old!'
Here at the gates the king awaits,
His hands are rich with gems and gold.
The king has come unto his hall
Under the Mountain dark and tall.
The Worm of Dread is slain and dead,
And ever so our foes shall fall!
Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away, ere break of day
Far over the wood and mountain tall.
To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell.
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And whither then we cannot tell.
With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our errand sped.
We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day!
......a odposlechnutý a patrně místy nepřesný text:
Lyrics to "Song of the Lonely Mountain" by Neil Finn:
Far over the Misty Mountains rise
Leave us standing upon the heights
What was before, we see once more
Our kingdom a distant light
Fiery mountain beneath the moon
The words unspoken, we'll be there soon
For home a song that echoes on
And all who find us will know the tune
Some folk we never forget
Some kind we never forgive
Haven't seen the back of us yet
We'll fight as long as we live
All eyes on the hidden door
To the Lonely Mountain borne
We'll ride in the gathering storm
Until we get our long-forgotten gold
We lay under the Misty Mountains cold
In slumbers deep and dreams of gold
We must awake, our lives to make
And in the darkness a torch we hold
From long ago when lanterns burned
Till this day our hearts have yearned
Her fate unknown the Arkenstone
What was stolen must be returned
We must awake and make the day
To find a song for heart and soul
Some folk we never forget
Some kind we never forgive
Haven't seen the end of it yet
We'll fight as long as we live
All eyes on the hidden door
To the Lonely Mountain borne
We'll ride in the gathering storm
Until we get our long-forgotten gold
Far away from Misty Mountains cold.
Jo, pointa
: stejně je hluboký hlas RA nejlepší, i když je to jenom krátká, ale působivá ukázka.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LrxLomHSp_4
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Tak to musí být buď u těch tří soon-to-be-stones nebo spíš když peláší od Misty mountains krátce před scénou s orly?
Bilbovo váhání nad tím, jestli ho zabít nebo ušetřit bylo natočené s citem.
Chápu, chtěli tím naznačit, že trpaslíkům nikdo nepomohl, ale moc se to nepovedlo. A ještě jedna věc - měla jsem vidiny nebo na čemže to Thranduil seděl?
