Psalm

No one moulds us again out of earth and clay,
no one conjures our dust.
No one.
Praised be your name, no one.
For your sake
we shall flower.
Towards
you.

A nothing
we were, are, shall
remain, flowering:
the nothing-, the no one's rose.

With
our pistil soul-bright,
with our stamen heaven-ravaged,
our corolla red
with the crimson word which we sang
over, O over
the thorn.

(Trans: Michael Hamburger)

I like it. I really do, I had'nt expected this, but I do. Let's do the conga!

Jan T

Thank you!

JT, Arnon

The English version of the poem looked so different to the one I knew, so I looked it up on "norton poets online" and found the version I used to read:

Psalm

No one kneads us again out of earth and clay,
no one incants our dust. No one.

Blessèd art thou, No One.
In thy sight would
we bloom.
In thy
spite.

A Nothing
we were, are now, and ever
shall be, blooming:
the Nothing-, the
No-One's-Rose.

With
our pistil soul-bright,
our stamen heaven-waste,
our corona red
from the purpleword we sang
over, O over
the thorn.

well, poetry is indeed what is lost in translation...

Arnon, thank you! I didn't know the poem, but since reading it here I can't get it out of my head. Do you feel it survives the translations?

Translation

Does it really matter? Since poetry often has to be deciphered every translation is always an interpretation. I even doubt it if a poet can "successfully" translate her own poems. I think there is a point in giving up the quest for accuracy and just enjoy the endless variety of human thought. I've noticed often how a translation lifts or ruins the original text. Besides, what is it a true meaning? The poet herself is an interpetor. As Arnon points out the relevency of his privious text may no longer be "true" to him now. Poetry is not safe from this erosiion of truth or meaninng. It's always very fluid. The question of trust in the sranslator is a big issue. I invite every reader to experience in writing and translating because I think this experience frees one from unrealistic expectations, and also contributes a lot to the pleasure of reading others' texts. Once you know how it works you don't have to waste energy on the possibility that you're being mislead - you're always being mislead, but sometimes for your own good :)

Neria, if we're going to be mislead anyway, it may as well be by poetry.
But don't you think in this case the switch from German to English changes the "feel" of the stanzas? To me it's a bit like a lip synced movie: it may be very accurate, but it feels different.

Ron, I share the same feeling, only I experience it like a game. I don't understand German, i'm restricted by many factors, I cannot master Sanscrit and Russian etc. Without really wanting it I trust any translator who master a language I don't, and I know that I even if I read the same poem, and even if it was written in my mother's tongue, my interpretation will always be different because we're all different. Norton's anthologies canonize literature, but what if they exclude a more scholard (or beautiful, or whatever) interpretation? You always have to give up something when translating, let's say you have to choose between keeping the feeling at the expence of intertextuality, by the end of the day it's all a matter of taste. The editors of a certain Norton share for various reasons a certain taste. In judaism there's the idea of "ase lexa rav", in this context you can read it as "choose the editor/ translator whom appeals most to your taste".

By the way, if anything, I too preffer to be mislead by poetry (only).