Poet loves Vietnamese poems

John Balaban has been known among American poets as one whose many works are best-sellers. These books are not about America, but of his English translations of well known Vietnamese poems, including a collection of poems in Nom scripts by famous poetess Ho Xuan Huong (in the 18th century) and “The Tale of Kieu” by the great poet Nguyen Du (in the 18th century).

Sitting on a bench near Hoan Kiem Lake in Hanoi , John Balaban told me why he chose poems by Ho Xuan Huong and Nguyen Du to translate into English. “I am a professor of English, and an American poet to be present in Vietnam during the Vietnam War. That might be the reason why I am encouraged to translate Vietnamese poems,” he said.

Balaban said 20,000 copies of his translation of Ho Xuan Huong’s poems published in 2000 were sold. It was such a “phenomenon” that the American press spent much time and effort studying it. President Bill Clinton, during his visit to Hanoi in 2000, also mentioned John’s translation as a cultural phenomenon of great concern in the United States at that time.

Actually, Balaban’s translation of Ho Xuan Huong´s poems helped many American readers understand the fate and strong response full of femininity of the Vietnamese women of the past. They were known for not only having virtues due to close ties to family education and principles, but also having strong characters. They dared to spell out the taboos of society such as sex and an intimate sexual life, etc., through poems which are pure, sensitive and graphic. Their response surprised many American readers because deep in their mind the American audience thought that those sensitive matters could only be spoken by them.

Balaban said he also wanted to bring American readers another story about life of the Vietnamese women in the feudal period. It was the poetic work "The Tale of Kieu” by great Vietnamese poet Nguyen Du (1766-1820), telling about the talented, but unhappy fate of a young woman - Kieu. According to Balaban, “The Tale of Kieu” is not only a literary masterpiece of the Vietnamese people, but it also concealed a lot of strange details. The strangest one is about the word “fate” defined by Buddhists, which seems to go along with, and was closely attached to Kieu’s talented, but misfortune life. For those reasons, Balaban decided to translate this poetic work into English with the whole-hearted feeling of an American poet full of passion and aspiration. (At the time John and I were talking, his translation of this work is being processed).

Saying farewell, Balaban asked me to reserve one copy of Vietnam Pictorial with the article about him and send it to him as a souvenir. I agreed. In addition I promised that when his English translation of “The Tale of Kieu” is made public, I will invite him to sit by Hoan Kiem Lake again, and I’ll listen to his story about the “fate” that tied him to the story of her life.

Professor John Balaban was born in 1943 in Philadelphia (USA). He is the Poet in Residence and Professor of English at North Carolina University in Raleigh, North Carolina ( USA ). He has many works about Vietnam, including “Ca Dao Vietnam: A Bilingual Anthology of Vietnamese Folk Poetry”, “ Vietnam – The Land We Never Knew” and “ Vietnam – A Traveler’s Literary Companion”. Of particular popularity is his translation of Ho Xuan Huong’s poems entitled “Spring Essence – The Poetry of Ho Xuan Huong”. John Balaban is now President of the Vietnamese Nom Preservation Foundation – an American non-governmental organization.

Story by Thanh Hoa -

The curious case of Hillary’s button

By Peter Lavelle

For years Russian-U.S. relations have been on the rocks. Megaphone diplomacy on both sides was considered the norm and benefited neither side. That is why U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's public relations stunt of "resetting" this bilateral relationship is important to consider.

The makeshift button Clinton presented to the media and pressed together with Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov read "reset" in English, but in Russian it was rendered as "reload." Not the best way to restart things.


The lost-in-translation part was put aside with kind words and high hopes. However, this linguistic error could be very telling, depending on how the next few months pan out.

Clinton's enthusiasm to recast the Russia-U.S. relationship says a lot about how the Bush administration got Russia wrong. The Bush people always wanted it to appear they reached out to Russia, but at about every possible juncture the Russians saw it differently.

Few remember that it was then President Vladimir Putin who first called George W. Bush after the 9/ll attacks - pledging support against the terrorists who attacked the United States. While Putin didn't like it, he didn't object to the U.S. military stationing a "temporary" base in Kyrgyzstan promoting Bush's "war on terror."

Putin didn't like it when the United States unilaterally withdrew from the 1972 Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty in 2002, but there was nothing Russia could do to stop it.

Putin didn't like Western funding of overtly anti-Russian "coloured revolutions" in Ukraine and Georgia. But that was something Russia could do about. The more the United States tried to undermine Russia's neighbourhood to promote Washington's geopolitical interests, the more Moscow defended what it saw as its legitimate security interests.

Washington started this competition, not Russia. And because of geography, history and Washington's bad habit of not following through on so-called commitments to friends and allies, Russia has been given a new hearing in its neighbourhood.

The U.S. government is very close to its energy companies and has pressed hard to promote their interests in the energy-rich, post-Soviet space. At the same time, many in the West claim that Russia is using energy as a political weapon.

It is not amiss on the Russian side that mainstream media presents Western companies as merely looking for profit, while Russian companies only seek geopolitical advantage. As far as Moscow is concerned, this is a clear double standard. Russia's embrace of capitalism and the profit motive is genuine and scares the heck out its Western competitors.

The Bush people pushed hard to continue NATO's expansion eastwards. Russia strenuously objects to this. Russia cannot veto any country from joining a political, economic and military bloc, but it can and does speak out about its own security interests.

NATO does not present itself as a foe of Russia's; however it does not accept Moscow's self-defined security interests. This is a red line that Moscow will not compromise on.

Then there is the issue of security architecture. Obama has waffled on Bush's hard-line commitment to anti-missile defence in Europe. For Russia this is an existential threat. Any country - large or small - would rightfully be concerned if a new and modern military system was based close to its border. Given all the broken promises and smiles coming from the United States regarding Russia for almost 20 years, it's understandable that Russians want more than good intentions from their American counterparts.

Georgia's pre-emptive war against South Ossetia last August remains a very sour issue in Russia. America funded and trained Saakashvili's military. The same military killed Russian citizens and peacekeepers.

The trust level Russia has toward the new American administration is limited, to say the least. As long as the U.S. continues its military engagement of Georgia and promotes Tbilisi's NATO aspirations, the more likely it is that Moscow will view Washington with apprehension.

What will happen? Will it be the "re-set" or "reload" button? We still really don't know.

It seems to me that the new administration in Washington still doesn't see Russia to be all that important - it is deemed as a problematic country only to be dealt with. But all the same there is the recognition that not much can be done on many global issues without Russia's engagement and help.

Viewed from the Potomac, Russia remains a bridesmaid. This is a huge mistake inherited not from the George Bush administration - look further back to Bill Clinton's time in office to understand this.

I must admit I remain sceptical. I have no doubt there was an obvious and embarrassing translation error made when Clinton gave the button to Lavrov. But I can't but help sense that the same tried and failed policies toward Russia remain in play. The "reload" translation is somehow not serendipity.

For almost 20 years, Republican, De­mocratic, Republican - and now again Democratic administrations have continued the same ritual. They all believe that they only have to explain why the United States never threatens the world and that everyone should agree with it. And they believe Russia should not question this proposition.

Yet Russia is not interested in diplomatic PR, it seeks reliable partners. Partnership is the button that needs to be pressed.

Peter Lavelle is the host of Russia Today's weekly analysis programme ‘In Context'

Implementation of New National Translation Program for Book Publishing

Mar 03, 2009 10:00 ET
Implementation of New National Translation Program for Book Publishing
The Government Delivers on Its Commitments to Linguistic Duality and Canadian Culture

OTTAWA, ONTARIO--(Marketwire - March 3, 2009) - The Honourable James Moore, Minister of Canadian Heritage and Official Languages, today announced the implementation of the new National Translation Program for Book Publishing, designed to increase the availability of Canadian books in both official languages. Through this program, the Government is delivering on the commitment it made when it announced the Roadmap for Canada's Linguistic Duality last June.

"Our Government wants to give as many Canadians as possible access to the enormous wealth of our country's culture and literature," said Minister Moore. "The new program will also help our authors gain recognition in new markets, thereby strengthening the financial health of Canada's book publishing industry."

Starting April 1, 2009, the Government will invest $5 million over four years in this program, which will help publishers in Canada translate Canadian-authored books into English and French. To minimize administrative costs and implementation time, and to take advantage of existing expertise, administration of the program is being entrusted to the Canada Council for the Arts for 2009-2010, and the arrangement can be renewed annually. The Government is pleased to be able to draw on the experience and administrative structure already in place at the Council to provide this new support to publishers.

"Our Government's commitment is unwavering. This strategic investment allows the Government to support our linguistic duality, the reach of our culture, and our economy," concluded Minister Moore.

"This is wonderful news for Canadian readers, publishers, and literary translators," said Robert Sirman, Director of the Canada Council for the Arts. "The Council welcomes the federal government's commitment today, as it shows confidence in the Council and its ability to deliver additional support for translation. The Council is looking forward to receiving the money in the coming months, when it will be in a position to allocate it to grant recipients."

The Roadmap for Canada's Linguistic Duality is an unprecedented government-wide investment of $1.1 billion over five years. Its new arts and culture component includes more than $20 million and is in addition to funding of more than half a billion dollars over the next two years under Budget 2009 to support the arts, culture, and heritage.

This news release is available on the Internet at www.canadianheritage.gc.ca under Media Room.


BACKGROUNDER

Objectives

The Roadmap for Canada's Linguistic Duality, released in June 2008, includes $5 million to increase the number of books available in both official languages by helping Canadian publishers translate works of Canadian authors into English and French. For Canadians, this will mean greater access to the cultural wealth and literature of the country's Anglophone and Francophone communities, in both official languages.

The investments announced today add to the $68 million already invested annually by the Government in Canadian writing and book publishing. This is provided through Canadian Heritage's Book Publishing Industry Development Program ($37 million) and the Canada Council for the Arts, including the Public Lending Right Commission (a total of $31.1 million in 2007-2008).

Delivery mechanism

After studying various options, the Government selected the Council to deliver the new program. The intention expressed in the Roadmap for Canada's Linguistic Duality to provide "greater access to the cultural wealth and literature of the country" is directly aligned with the mandate of the Council, which is to "to foster and promote the study and enjoyment of, and the production of works in, the arts." Moreover, the Council already has a Translation Grants Program in place, and building on this existing infrastructure will reduce administrative costs and avoid duplication. This is an opportunity not only to deliver the program efficiently, but also to draw on the Council's expertise and experience in this area. The Council will also be able to provide timely support through grants that offset the high upfront costs associated with translations.

Canada Council for the Arts

The Canada Council is a federal Crown corporation created by an act of Parliament in 1957. The Council offers a broad range of grants and services to professional Canadian artists and arts organizations in dance, integrated (multidisciplinary) art, media arts, music, theatre, visual arts, and writing and publishing. It also promotes public awareness of the arts through its communications, research, and arts promotion activities. The Public Lending Right Commission and the Canadian Commission for UNESCO also operate under the aegis of the Canada Council.

Eligibility criteria for the National Translation Program for Book Publishing

Funding will be provided for literary translations produced by Canadian publishers already taking part in the Council's book publishing support programs. Concentrating support in this manner will help to ensure sufficient per-title grants to provide an incentive for the production of new translations.

The federal government will continue to support translations of non-literary titles through Canadian Heritage's Book Publishing Industry Development Program. This program, which provides sales-based formula funding to a broad range of publishers, directs more than $2 million annually to publishers for their translation work. A majority of this amount goes to educational and general trade publishers.

For more information on the Roadmap for Canada's Linguistic Duality, visit www.pch.gc.ca/pgm/slo-ols/strat-eng.cfm.

For more information on the Canada Council for the Arts and its writing and publishing assistance programs, visit www.canadacouncil.ca/writing.

For more information on Canada's publishing policies, visit www.pch.gc.ca/pgm/padie-bpidp/liv-bk/index-eng.cfm.

For more information, please contact
Office of the Minister of Canadian Heritage
and Official Languages
Deirdra McCracken
Director of Communications
819-997-7788
deirdra.mccracken@pch.gc.ca

or

Canadian Heritage
Media Relations
819-994-9101
1-866-569-6155

Prose

UNIQUE TEXT AND MY TRANSLATION

Hi Friends,

Today is the 5th day of 2009, here's something to inspire all of us,
titled " THE FOUR BLESSED LOOKS"

Look back and Thank God
Look forward and Trust God
Look around and Serve God
Look within and Find God

Without God, our week is: Sinday, Mournday, Tearsday, Wasteday,
Thirstday, Fightday and Shatterday. So allow Him to be with you every
day!

Have a blessed day! Keep your chin up and rest your problem in God's Hands.

Happy New Year 2009!

MY INDONESIAN TRANSLATION:
Hai Sobat,

Hari ini adalah hari ke-5 di tahun 2009. Aku punya sesuatu yang bisa mengilhami kita semua, namanya "EMPAT ANUGERAH MELIHAT"

Lihatlah ke belakang dan bersyukurlah pada Tuhan
Lihatlah ke depan dan percayakan kepada Tuhan
Lihatlah sekeliling dan layanilah Tuhan
Lihatlah ke dalam dan temukan Tuhan

Tanpa Tuhan, dalam seminggu hanyalah berisi: Ahad penuh maksiat, Senin penuh duka berpilin, Selasa penuh air mata membahana, Rabu bagai abu,
Kamis dahaga nan mengiris, Jumat dendam kesumat dan Sabtu tak ada yang tersisa bagimu. Maka biarkan Dia bersamamu tiap hari!

Semoga harimu diberkahi! Tegakkan kepala dan serahkan segala risaumu padaNya.

Selamat Tahun Baru 2009!

sofiamansoor@gmail.com

The Art of Poetry Translation

The Art of Poetry Translation

Four Translators Talk About Their Methods

May 1, 2008
During the Poetry International festival each year various poetry translation projects take place. The Chinese Whispers programme is a kind of fun relay race in which a poem moves from Dutch through as many languages as possible and back again into Dutch during the course of the week. The participating poets provide the flow. The resulting poem is usually rather different from the original and its differences are often humorous, the project is not so much to be considered poetry translation as an exercise in linguistics and a demonstration of the foibles of language.

Alongside this, there are more serious translation ventures. Supervised workshops enable participating poets to translate festival poets (this year Iwakiri and ter Balkt) into their mother tongues. The ways in which a poet might be better or less well- equipped to translate a fellow poet than a professional translator is something I’ll be considering when I report on the workshops during the festival.

Beforehand, it is interesting to take a look at how the professionals go about their job. How does one even begin to translate poetry? I’ve invited four translators from the PIW site to share their expertise.

ALOK BHALLA

Alok Bhalla is a Professor of English Literature at the English and Foreign Languages University, Hyderabad, India. He has translated a range of poems, plays and fictional texts from Hindi and Urdu and, as a critic, has published extensively on literature, politics and translation theory.

How do you go about translating a poem - where do you start?

I think that choosing a poem for translation is always a startling and an enigmatic process. Sometimes, I am sure, it is similar to throwing coins to find the right hexagram in that I Ching that suddenly seems to speak to one’s peculiar emotional state or one’s present political anger That doesn’t mean one is ‘fated’ to translate a particular poem. Rather, a poem ‘asks’ to be translated by someone with whose present anguish or sentiment resonates with its own. That is how, I think, the poems I have translated with a degree of pleasure ‘found’ me. Poems by Udayan Vajpai, Kedarnath Singh and Kunwar Narain seem to have become accessible to my need to understand specific personal and political conditions – sometimes of power and base surrender, sometimes of private loss and grief, and sometimes of public acknowledgement of a poet’s gracefulness and my own gratitude at reading an ordinary spoken Hindi that was not first required to pay homage to Sanskrit. These poems became ‘visible’ in bookstores, or arrived by mail, or insistently placed themselves along my intellectual journey so that I had to either glance at them or push them aside, be either irritated by them or notice that they had a remarkable clarity which I could translate for others. I translated them because I knew that they deserved another ‘life’ in another language, another hearing by others located somewhere else.

Where do you go from there?

I have always refused to mingle the ‘art’ of translation with any of the ‘theories’ of translation. I think both have their protocols. Theorists of translation are not always so generous. Many a time they adopt the tone of stern law-givers for whom the translator is always a guilty thing who does or does not, must or must not reveal, deform, explain, improve, expand, rationalize, eroticize, clarify, infect, simplify, defer, ennoble, rewrite, natives, destroy, exoticism, feminize, domesticate, minorities, foreignism, impoverish, colonies, subvert or misrepresent the meaning of the original text – there are other spurs on their whips of flagellation (the poor translator is always at the receiving end). They inevitably speak about the impossibility of translating the ‘original’, the ‘primal’ glory of a culture or its language. I don’t believe that a translator is required to carry the ontological burden of our times or be the messianic voice of a civilization. Let me at least assert, even if my assertion does not have the melodramatic bass of the theory: It is possible for a translator to imagine another language and hence other forms of living and being; and, it is possible for a translator to speak to others who understand how we become ‘human’ when we find ourselves in conversation with others who have an utterly different way of ‘being human’ than we have. My own claim to intellectual cosmopolitanism (which I need to declare again and again for I live in the midst of sectarian arrogance and the genocidal virulence of identity politics) depends upon the labour of a community of translators, as does my claim that for a translator to be part of a literary habitat we need to understand the important ways in which translation contributes to the creation of cultural and moral pluralities.

If the task of the theorist is to craft critical tools so as to understand what may have determined the rhythms, phrases, cultural presuppositions, philosophic or moral preoccupations of the original text, the translator is guided by radically other considerations. Or, at least, I as a translator I am. A translator must fulfill two ethical or aesthetic tasks simultaneously. Even as a translator crafts a new work, the translated version must respect the integrity of the original so that the vision of the original is made available. This is a minimum ethic (I know this has a naive edenic nostalgia attached to it, just as I am aware of the theoretical temptations to make translation part of our more suspicious and skeptical age which distrusts the power of all ‘originals’).

I almost always begin my translations by making a literal draft which is so shamelessly dependent on dictionaries and thesauruses that the lines on the page are as depressing and meaningless as marching ants. The first scribbles almost inevitably confront me with the inadequacy of my qualifications and imaginative competence to the task. Just because the draft seems mock the ego, I put the original aside and try to remake each line so as to meet of Coleridge’s definition of a poem as the best possible arrangement of words best suited to the sentiments and thoughts expressed. That involves listening to each line within the surrounding silence. Only after I am seemingly satisfied that I actually ‘see’ and ‘hear’ the translated words as well as I can, do I begin to attach them to the sentences, lineation or spaces that precede or follow them. Once the poem begins to ‘speak’ well in English, I dare myself to return to the original to ensure that I haven’t violated the two ethical and aesthetic imperatives I have laid down for translators above.

Which translation of yours on the site are you most proud of, what were the difficulties and how did you solve them?

Before speaking about my translations of poems which have been posted on this website, I should like to mention that the poetic translation which took me the longest of time, and of which I am the proudest, is that of Dharamvir Bharati’s play, Andha Yug (The Blind/Dark Age, OUP). The play, which is perhaps one of the finest written in post-independence India, posed great difficulties because it functions on three different levels of religious, ethical and personal awareness. I had to find, in English, a language and a rhythm which is, at times, hieratic and is, at other times, recognizable as a song of ethical lament. I also had to craft a dramatic speech for characters that is tormented because men and women find themselves participating in a war that humiliates and debases each of them.

Of the poems on the website, the prose-poems by Udayan Vajpeyi were perhaps the most difficult to translate. The first problem that confronted me was the shape of the texts. Along with the original Hindi versions of the poems, Udayan had sent me copies of their French translations also. The visual shape of the French translations, which had Udayan’s approval, was different from that of the Hindi text. In the original the poems appeared like blocks of lines which so crowded each other as to create a sense of claustrophobic walls from which the consciousness of the poet was trying, with growing sense of futility and despondency, to escape into spaces where it could breath more freely. In the French version, the lineation was looser as each cluster of images or emotions was given its own space. The arrangement had its virtues. Instead of creating a feeling of entrapment by opaque and relentlessly indifferent circumstances within which a consciousness finds itself placed, it suggested spaces of silences from which the self could not escape as well as abysses of memory and time which faced the self in its attempt to deal with loss or find meaning. I offered both kinds of arrangements to Udayan to choose from when I translated his poems into English. I could ‘hear’ the sounds of both the versions and accept the virtues of each arrangement.

The other difficulty I faced as I translated Udayan’s poems was to find a way to communicate in English a mode writing which was simultaneously austere in its language and surreal in its vision. A literal translation of the tone (as distinct from the images and emotional situations concerned with memories of grief and consequent bewilderment) of the original Hindi could well have turned into bathos and sentimental excess. Fortunately, English has the possibility of understatement that can at the same time accommodate a feeling of the strange and the surreal in the affairs of human beings.

DAVID COLMER

David Colmer was born in Australia and has lived in the Netherlands for seventeen years. His poetry translations include work by Benno Barnard, Tsead Bruinja, Anna Enquist, Ramsey Nasr and Mustafa Stitou. His translation of Nijhoff's Awater will appear later this year from Anvil Press.

How do you go about translating a poem - where do you start?

I read the original and quickly try to see elements that I need to try to reproduce in the translation. I mainly look for technical elements such as metrical structure, internal rhyme, sound patterns. I don’t explicitly think about the meaning or the mood at this stage, because I get those implicitly at first. It is however easy to miss some technical aspects because you read over them and it's important to check whether there is a specific structure.

Where do you go from there?

Then I just start translating. Draft after draft, comparing the translations to the original. If possible I leave time between the different drafts so that I can see the translation with fresh eyes. (Forgetting why I did certain things and just seeing how they work or, more often, fail.) I do the first four or five drafts on the computer and then carry on on paper. The longer I work on it, the faster each run-through becomes. In the end I might just be reading it out loud and changing a word or two, or not changing it at all. When I start changing the same words back and forth between two variants it’s time to make a decision and call it finished. (Although I would always revise it if given a chance at a later date.)

Which translation of yours on the site are you most proud of, what were the difficulties and how did you solve them?

I think Benno Barnard’s, ‘A Kiss in Brussels’. The difficulties are obvious to anyone who reads the original, but that of course requires Dutch. The poem really has it all: rhyme and rhythm, images that are simply beautiful and images that make you think. At the same time, there's something mysterious about it despite its clarity. For me the translation just fell into place and I feel like I have gone a long way toward producing a poem that can stand in English on its own merits. Obviously I failed to do full justice to lines as beautiful as “mijn hand blijft steken in een teer gebaar”, but that failing is somehow compensated by what I see as the compelling simplicity of the English version. Even the line I most doubt (“my fingers...”) has something moving about it and every time I think about changing it I can’t help but think that it might be its awkwardness that makes it so moving and appropriate. Will I still think so in a year or two? I don’t know.

TAKAKO LENTO

Takako Lento was born in Japan and has lived in the US for over thirty years. He was educated at Tsuda College and Kyushu University in Japan and the University of Iowa in the US, with MFA from the University of Iowa Writers Workshop. Lento writes and translates prose and poetry from Japanese to English as well as from English to Japanese.

How do you go about translating a poem – where do you start?

I identify a poem I want to translate. I read, chew, taste and digest the poem. I try to understand my experience of the poem.

Where do you go from there?

I prepare the first draft by recreating in English my experience of the original, following each original line. At this time I focus on the original poem’s overall tone, messages, and overt or subtle references. My revisions of this draft focus on the original words, their usage, intended effects, implications, or associations or references, often culturally loaded. I try to reflect these elements in my translation as fully as I can manage. I ask a native speaker to check the English. Then I prepare a final version incorporating the checker’s linguistic corrections as well as any changes that I sense need to be made based on the native speaker’s reading or understanding of the translation.

Which translation of yours on the site are you most proud of; what were the difficulties and how did you solve them?

‘Invisible Tree’ by Ryuichi Tamura. The problem I faced was in relation to the use of the word “mind.” This is a poem I love, but I am not sure if the difficulty is resolved in my translation. The Japanese word “kokoro” means either “heart [emotionally charged entity]” or “mind [mind’s function].” This is a perennial issue in translating Japanese poetry. Of course, when someone’s ‘heart is aching,’ no one would argue against choosing to use “heart.” Or when someone ‘imagines in his mind,’ the choice of “mind” is probably universal. But in Tamura’s poetry, the heart and the mind are so closely tied together that I often find it difficult to choose one against the other.

RICHARD ZENITH

A native of Washington DC, previous PIW-Portugal editor, Richard Zenith has lived as an adult in Colombia, Brazil, France, and – since 1987 – in Lisbon, Portugal, where he works as a freelance writer, translator, and researcher in the Fernando Pessoa archives. Zenith has rendered a number of other Portuguese and Brazilian poets into English, as well as novels by Portugal’s António Lobo Antunes and Angola’s José Luandino Vieira.

How I translate a poem...

I don’t begin by producing a slavishly literal translation. Or rather, I don’t distinguish between ‘literal’ and ‘literary’. The moment I begin translating, I’m already searching for the word or phrase that works in English. My first drafts are full of alternate possibilities placed in brackets, or I’ll place question marks after words or phrases that don’t seem quite right. The written word gains a false authority; we’re more liable to give it credence just because it’s already there on the page. So I’m nervous, as a translator or as a writer, about jotting just anything down, with the idea that I’ll improve on it later.

After establishing an initial multi-translation (‘multi’ because of all the variant wordings I still have to choose from), I look at what I've done against the original, very closely. A translation should not be a close reading, or an interpretation, but the translator must read closely and carefully interpret — without, however, revealing that interpretation in the translation.
At a certain point I abandon the original text and just read the English. And when it seems right enough (perfection, of course, is never achieved), then I'll read it once more alongside the original.

I seek out all the help I can get, asking native speakers to clarify even the tiniest doubt. If the poet is living, I always ask her or him to see what I’ve done, but only when I’ve achieved what seems to be a relatively final version. If her or his English is poor, I explain any hesitations or uncertainties I may have and listen attentively to what the author has to say.

I feel especially proud of certain translations right when I finish them, but once they’re out there, published, they become public property and I don’t feel that they belong to me anymore. So I can’t really name a translation I feel especially proud of, unless it’s one I did yesterday. [Editor’s note: Richard Zenith’s most recent translations are of A.M. Pires Cabral ]


Michele Hutchison
From: