Dagon Taya (2)

This post covers page two of Dagon Taya's "A hazy fragrant night." Page one can be found here.

Vocabulary:

အကြံအစည် ။ intention, plan
အတ္ထုပ္ပတ္တိ ။ biography
ရက်ဖောက် ။ bobbin, spool, pirn [ရက်ဖောက်ဝိုင်းသီ = ?]
ဖွဲ့နွဲ့ ။ to compose, write
အဖြစ်အပျက် ။ an incident, occurance, event
ထုတ်နုတ် ။ an extract
သရုပ်ဖော် ။ portray; describe; illustrate.
ခေတ်ပေါ် ။ modern, contemporary
စိတ်ကူးယဉ် ။ fictional, fanciful
ကျော်ကြား ။ to be famous
ကလောင် ။ pen
ချောမွေ့ ။ fine, smooth
ထစ်ငေါ့ ။ to stammer, stutter
ညှိ ။ to ignite, light
ငြိမ်း ။ (of fire) to die out, be extinguished
မျှင် ။ cut into long thin strips or strands.
မျှင် ။ to spread out
ဖြန့် ။ to spread out
ပြေး ။ to be iridescent
ဖိတ် ။ to shine, glow
ကြွ ။ to rise up
မှိုင်း ။ fumes
အမြှေး ။ membrane
ရှုပ်ထွေး ။ to be mixed up, confused, tangled
ပွေလီ ။ complicated, many and varied
ပြေးလွှား ။ to run in haste; scramble; scamper; scurry
အားကျ ။ to emulate
ယူဆ ။ deduce; form opinion; presume
မူ ။ to face towards
မည်သူမည်ဝါ ။ who
စင်မြင့် ။ platform
တံ ။ liquid, water
ဟည်း ။ (of earthquake) rumble; roar; reverberate
သိမ့် ။ tremble; shake; quake
ခါ ။ to shake

Translation:

To tell the truth, I had the intention to write a literary composition from the start. It was to compose a biography of the experiences of my native life. At the very least, it was to portray an extract from the real events of a person’s life. I could see that while people were becoming famous for writing popular fiction stories in modern magazines, when they wrote portrayals of life their pen was no longer smooth and they stuttered.

I set down my pen and once again lit my cheroot. In that way, if I could not write, with the cheroot often dying out, once again, once again, I would habitually light it. With his hand he spread out the strands of leaves of the bamboo tree which blocked the sky in the window. In the face of the smokey blue sky which raised an irridescent glow with the colour of silver star colours, layers were tangled and mixed up. Around the moon was red. Littles waves of my imagination were scampering about.

Ever since I was young I have emulated famous people. I formed the opinion that fame was an attribute of immense prestige. Although I did not know any famous people, it was the lives of those people that I knew. That being the case, I emulated them. If I passed in front of a famous person, I would stare and gaze after that person. Although the person did not know me, I knew who it was and I was enraptured.

During student life I went to listen to a lecture by a famous writer. When he ascended the platform the audience applauded.

I caught myself staring. When he finished speaking, I remember thinking that as the audience applauded, the walls of the auditorium shook, reverberating like a wave of water. I was pleased with the sound of the applause.