writing and writers – Page 115 – don't confuse the narrator

transcreation

Catalonia coastline — Catalonian coastline

After I posted about poetry translation last week, Ben came by and left a comment. So off I went to look at his blog, the recently started Project Poesía, an Anglo-Catalán poetry project.

I started tinkering with one of the pieces he had there, making a translation based on La Barceloneta, an original by Alexandre Plana; Ben has now added my draft translation to his blog as a guest post. (You can also read the original and Ben’s translation)

I’ve always thought that you need to feel some empathy with a poem to make a good translation. But now I’m beginning to wonder what happens if you feel too much empathy.
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drafts and re-drafts

scarlet seeds of iris foetidissima — all alike; all unique

Years ago, after talking to the Catalán poet Joan Margarit, I wrote down in my notebook:

Form, metre, rhyme etc. are superficial elements of a poem. What gets translated is something more essential.

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about poetry translation, and I’m trying to work out what that “more essential” something is.

It’s clear – to me at least – that the complexity of poetry, its inherent weaving of different linguistic techniques, makes it impossible to translate everything: the only way to get an exactly equivalent poem would be to repeat the original. (At which point, it is probably relevant to mention the Borges short story Pierre Menard, autor del Quijote.)
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past, present, future

remember, remember

Bonfire night:
the wide-eyed moon looks down
on multi-coloured stars

of things past

flower arrangement of pink/red roses in old church

All Hallows Anniversary

A heavy storm has made the flat roof leak
and in the small hours, memories drip
from the bedroom ceiling.

Unlike the rain they cannot be absorbed
by piles of folded towels, or mopped into a bucket, so
I paddle through them, barefoot, towards dawn.

Flower stalls sprout on street corners and blossom
with chrysanthemums and wreaths
for loved ones’ graves.

I skirt the queues and wonder, should I buy
for the ghost of a relationship
long dead?

The poem is from the collection Around the Corner from Hope Street.

Read sequentially, the poems reveal a narrative thread, covering a period of 15 months in the life of the female narrator; they deal with themes of alienation and isolation, recovery and renewal, and, of course, love. The book is illustrated in black and white by graphic artist Lance Tooks and available in various digital formats from the Tantamount bookstore.

(A draft of the poem was posted on the blog a few years ago.)