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The Poetry Translation Centre, dedicated to translating works by African and Asian and Latin American poets into English (while further publishing the poems in their original language/script alongside), has launched a book to celebrate a decade of translations. This book, published by Bloodaxe, is just short of 400 pages and contains 111 poems by 45 poets in 23 languages (from Arabic to Zapotec). All the poems are presented in their original languages/scripts first and then in an English translation made through the collaboration of literal translators with respected English poets. It’s been sponsored by various worthy organisations and has a cover price of only £12. Bloodaxe are also intending to publish collections by some of the individual poets in the coming years.
My Voice page at Bloodaxe Books.
(1) Literary event in London with multilingual readings and discussions and (2) the official book launch in London with multilingual readings and discussions. I’ve been lucky enough to hear Al-Saddiq Al-Raddi from Sudan reading intensely in Arabic (modern standard, obv) and Reza Mohammadi from Afghanistan reading lyrically in Persian (Dari, amongst other dialects), and to listen to them both discussing poetry and translation in English, and I wholeheartedly recommend the experience.
The title of the book is taken from a poem by Partaw Naderi, translated as "My Voice".
My Voice by Partaw Naderi (written in Kabul, December, 1989)
I come from a distant land
with a foreign knapsack on my back
with a silenced song on my lips
As I travelled down the river of my life
I saw my voice
(like Jonah)
swallowed by a whale
And my very life lived in my voice
The Persian/Dari original poem. The literal translation is by Yama Yari and the poetic translation by Sarah Maguire.
There are many other poems freely available on the Poetry Translation Centre website. Enjoy!
My Voice page at Bloodaxe Books.
(1) Literary event in London with multilingual readings and discussions and (2) the official book launch in London with multilingual readings and discussions. I’ve been lucky enough to hear Al-Saddiq Al-Raddi from Sudan reading intensely in Arabic (modern standard, obv) and Reza Mohammadi from Afghanistan reading lyrically in Persian (Dari, amongst other dialects), and to listen to them both discussing poetry and translation in English, and I wholeheartedly recommend the experience.
The title of the book is taken from a poem by Partaw Naderi, translated as "My Voice".
My Voice by Partaw Naderi (written in Kabul, December, 1989)
I come from a distant land
with a foreign knapsack on my back
with a silenced song on my lips
As I travelled down the river of my life
I saw my voice
(like Jonah)
swallowed by a whale
And my very life lived in my voice
The Persian/Dari original poem. The literal translation is by Yama Yari and the poetic translation by Sarah Maguire.
There are many other poems freely available on the Poetry Translation Centre website. Enjoy!
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The poem Hachnisini tachat k'nefech ("Bring me under your wing", female addressee) is one of the better-known poems by Haim Nachman Bialik, an early Hebrew poet often considered Israel's national poet. (I cannot in good conscious fully get behind this title, because we had no-less-good ones after him, as seminal as Bialik's corpus is.) One of the primary reasons that Hachnisini is so well-enough is that it's been set to music a dozen-plus times and recorded about a gazillion; suffice to say, it's popular enough that musical reality shows contestants will pick it for their auditions. (I'm partial to Nechama Hendel's version from the 1950s, which tune - like so many Israeli songs - is ripped off Eastern European folk melodies; the best-known one is arguably Arik Einstein's from the 1980s. It's also worth noting that the tradition of setting poetry to music is primarily associated with Israeli-Hebrew rock, not folk.)
The poem is brought below in Hebrew, with translations into English and Russian. These translations were rendered in by Ze'ev Jabotinsky (born Vladimir Yevgenyevich Zhabotinsky). Jabotinsky was himself a complex figure, best known as a political leader and visionary. The Russian translation is earlier, and was published in 1916 as part of an anthology of Russian-translated Hebrew poetry. The English translation is later, presumably 1920s, and was given as a gift to Ronald Storrs, then the British Military Governor of Palestine.
I cannot evaluate the Russian translation as I do not speak or read the language, but the English translation is exquisite. The translations and their background were found via this blog post (in Hebrew).

Приюти меня под крылышком,
Будь мне мамой и сестрой,
На груди твоей разбитые
Сны-мечты мои укрой.
Наклонись тихонько в сумерки,
Буду жаловаться я:
Говорят, есть в мире молодость –
Где же молодость моя?
И ещё поверю шёпотом:
И во мне горела кровь;
Говорят, любовь нам велена –
Где и что она, любовь?
Звёзды лгали; сон пригрезился –
И не стало и его;
Ничего мне не осталося,
Ничего.
Приюти меня под крылышком,
Будь мне мамой и сестрой,
На груди твоей разбитые
Сны-мечты мои укрой…
The poem is brought below in Hebrew, with translations into English and Russian. These translations were rendered in by Ze'ev Jabotinsky (born Vladimir Yevgenyevich Zhabotinsky). Jabotinsky was himself a complex figure, best known as a political leader and visionary. The Russian translation is earlier, and was published in 1916 as part of an anthology of Russian-translated Hebrew poetry. The English translation is later, presumably 1920s, and was given as a gift to Ronald Storrs, then the British Military Governor of Palestine.
I cannot evaluate the Russian translation as I do not speak or read the language, but the English translation is exquisite. The translations and their background were found via this blog post (in Hebrew).

Приюти меня под крылышком,
Будь мне мамой и сестрой,
На груди твоей разбитые
Сны-мечты мои укрой.
Наклонись тихонько в сумерки,
Буду жаловаться я:
Говорят, есть в мире молодость –
Где же молодость моя?
И ещё поверю шёпотом:
И во мне горела кровь;
Говорят, любовь нам велена –
Где и что она, любовь?
Звёзды лгали; сон пригрезился –
И не стало и его;
Ничего мне не осталося,
Ничего.
Приюти меня под крылышком,
Будь мне мамой и сестрой,
На груди твоей разбитые
Сны-мечты мои укрой…
Looking for original language texts
Jul. 12th, 2013 07:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I'm posting some favorite poems-in-translation this week to the comm
poetry, and would love some help tracking down the original language texts to include with the English translations. Does anyone know where I could find the original texts for the following poems? (Links, when included, go to the relevant posts to be edited at
poetry.)
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- Breyten Breytenbach's "Breyten prays for himself" [Afrikaans]
- Tanikawa Shuntarō's "Sadness" [Japanese]
- Tomas Tranströmer's "Sketch in October" [Swedish]
Herberto Padilla's "Man on the Edge" [Spanish]- all set! Many thanks tofixdrk
Yevgeny Yevtushenko's "Hand-Rolled Cigarettes" [Russian]
Two poems for National Poetry Day (UK)
Oct. 4th, 2012 11:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I posted two poems for the UK's National Poetry Day at my journal. The first is Pia Tafdrup's poem for Norway, in Danish with an English translation. The second is a humorous piece about linguistic and cultural translations written by a Scottish poet about the English and the French, and using both languages.
Tangaroa Whakamautai
Sep. 21st, 2012 12:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Gorgeous song by Maisey Rika! Her English translation is provided in the video subtitles. ( cut for video: )
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Mo Ming Qi Mao (墨明棋妙) is a popular indie music group which combines traditional Chinese music element in their music. Their songs always has meaning and are of great quality. Today I'm sharing their first work: Ku Ye Zhi Die | 枯叶之蝶 | Love Story (music video).
( cut for the video )( lyric )
( cut for the video )( lyric )
Możliwości | Wisława Szymborska
Apr. 13th, 2012 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
translated by Stanisław Barańcza, Clare Cavanagh
"Możliwości" Wolę kino. Wolę koty. Wolę dęby nad Wartą. Wolę Dickensa od Dostojewskiego. Wolę siebie lubiącą ludzi niż siebie kochającą ludzkość. Wolę mieć w pogotowiu igłę z nitką. Wolę kolor zielony. Wolę nie twierdzić, że rozum jest wszystkiemu winien. Wolę wyjątki. Wolę wychodzić wcześniej. Wolę rozmawiać z lekarzami o czymś innym. Wolę stare ilustracje w prążki. Wolę śmieszność pisania wierszy od śmieszności ich niepisania. Wolę w miłości rocznice nieokrągłe, do obchodzenia na co dzień. Wolę moralistów, którzy nie obiecują mi nic. Wolę dobroć przebiegłą od łatwowiernej za bardzo. Wolę ziemię w cywilu. Wolę kraje podbite niż podbijające. Wolę mieć zastrzeżenia. Wolę piekło chaosu od piekła porządku. Wolę bajki Grimma od pierwszych stron gazet. Wolę liście bez kwiatów niż kwiaty bez liści. Wolę psy z ogonem nie przyciętym. Wolę oczy jasne, ponieważ mam ciemne. Wolę szuflady. Wolę wiele rzeczy, których tu nie wymieniłam, od wielu również tu nie wymienionych. Wolę zera luzem niż ustawione w kolejce do cyfry. Wolę czas owadzi od gwiezdnego. Wolę odpukać. Wolę nie pytać jak długo jeszcze i kiedy. Wolę brać pod uwagę nawet tę możliwość, że byt ma swoją rację. | "Possibilities" I prefer movies. I prefer cats. I prefer the oaks along the Warta. I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky. I prefer myself liking people to myself loving mankind. I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case. I prefer the color green. I prefer not to maintain that reason is to blame for everything. I prefer exceptions. I prefer to leave early. I prefer talking to doctors about something else. I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations. I prefer the absurdity of writing poems to the absurdity of not writing poems. I prefer, where love's concerned, nonspecific anniversaries that can be celebrated every day. I prefer moralists who promise me nothing. I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind. I prefer the earth in civvies. I prefer conquered to conquering countries. I prefer having some reservations. I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order. I prefer Grimms' fairy tales to the newspapers' front pages. I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves. I prefer dogs with uncropped tails. I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark. I prefer desk drawers. I prefer many things that I haven't mentioned here to many things I've also left unsaid. I prefer zeroes on the loose to those lined up behind a cipher. I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars. I prefer to knock on wood. I prefer not to ask how much longer and when. I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility that existence has its own reason for being. |
Weekly post of translated Chinese poetry
Apr. 8th, 2012 12:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Hi! I have been posting Chinese poetry and their English translation on my journal, to celebrate the poetry month. To not to spam the com, I 'm doing a sum up and hope you can enjoy it.
- 轻衣社 · 梅 文 / 沈鱼 Plum Blossoms·Light Garment Society by Shen Yu
- 夏日印象 / 沈苇 The Impression of Summer by Shen We
- 轻衣社·浮云 文 / 沈鱼 Drifting Clouds·Light Garment Society
- 塔尔寺之花 文 / 青海湖 / A Petite Flower in Taer Monastery by Qinghai Lake
- 官道梁:草药年代
文/ 天涯女子 Guandao Ridge: Herbal Years by A Female Wanderer - 寂静制造了风 / 池凌云 Stillness Creates the Wind By Chi Lingyun
- 在民国
文/夜鱼 In the Early Period of the Republic of China by Nocturnal Fish
ein yahav | yehuda amichai
Mar. 31st, 2012 01:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
translated by A.Z. Foreman
נסיעה לילית לעין יהב בערבה נסיעה בגשם. כן בגשם. שם פגשתי אנשים שמגדלים תמרים. שם ראיתי עצי אשל ועצי אשליה. שם ראיתי תקוה דוקרנית כמו תיל דוקרני ואמרתי בלבי: אמת, התקוה צריכה להיות כמו תיל כדי להגן עלינו מן היאוש. התקוה צריכה להיות שדה מוקשים | A night drive to Ein Yahav in the Arabah. A drive in the rain. Yes, in the rain. There, I met people who grow date palms. There, I saw great tamarisk trees and great risk trees There, I saw hope barbed like barbed wire And I said to myself: It is the truth. Hope must be Like barbed wire to keep out our despair. Hope must be a minefield. |