Adding to The New To-Buy List: Ruxandra Cesereanu

Anytime one runs across a valued, indispensable anthology, the list of books one wants to buy grows by leaps and bounds.  I haven’t even made my way through a tenth of New European Poets, and the list of names to google and/or buy is growing exponentially.  On top of that list, currently, is Ruxandra Cesereanu, from Romania.

Cesereanu only has one poem in New European Poets, but I have run into her work elsewhere — in an anthology of Transylvanian poets I reviewed nearly ten years ago.  As of this writing, I remember lines of her poem more than I do the title of that particular book.

learn with me to speak

our polyhedral language

Her poem in New European Poets displays that same sense of striking surreality that has stayed with me all these years.  So, upon searching Amazon, I found that Adam J. Sorkin has translated her into book form over here twice.

Final Thoughts on Mistranslating

The last thing I’m going to do is flood my blog with 1001 weird garbled translations of classic poetry, but I did this exercise with John Donne this morning, finding some of the following lines

Impressed with the ability to swallow
I saw the boat love overfraught
I love all of your hair to work with the same
Not to find some plumbers were too many;
No, nothing, not even for things
Very bright and scatt’ring, like the original.
Even the faces and angel wings
Through the air, they do not wear bear fruit still pure, and not purely

______

There’s a couple of things that need to be kept in mind when one tries this out.  First, you have to be careful about the languages you select as your filters.   The point here, in trying to find a starting point for a poem, is to arrive at a text that is wildly divergent from the original.  I think it’s safe to say that Not to find some plumbers were too many bares absolutely no resemblance to John Donne’s verse.  So here’s some criteria to think over.

• Select a base text that’s rich in idiom or metaphor or both.   Idiom and metaphor make translating poetry extremely hard.  Internet translators are robots, essentially, and do not understand either.  A computer will always go for the literal translation.  That always leaves the door open for gross misinterpretation.  (Speaking of idioms, I remember talking to a German who heard “Get your shit together” for the first time, and he was bewildered — picturing actually gathering his excrament into a pile).
• You have to very your languages with each step.  English is a Germanic language.  So, if your chain of filters goes from English to German to Dutch to Frisian to Afrikaans back to English, you might not get absolutely wild results.  Those languages are historically and structurally related.  It’s better to go from English to Arabic to Chinese to Russian to Swahili back to English.  This is because the languages are so fundamentally different from each other, from grammar to diction and syntax.  Basically, by using those differences, you’re opening your self to a wider possibility of weirder pairing of words.

Evil Done to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130

No need to post the original.  It’s easily findable on the internet.  I’m too lazy to put “the filters” in terms of the language used.   However, here’s what Google Translate has done Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130

Computers minhu tail grass mat for their Giongo Troyan;
“Sure, old glass to land that much for the tail of the mouse and stroke;
If company harbor Snow White, why then vu Samand BA;
Detector on the snow, trains and mucus on the harbor to the tail.
I saw that Dja Hong Trang Vietnam flowers damask’d
The pink flowers minhu not see hin Trong Toi tail graves;
Against this weight with the perfume of their favorite Thoas
The weight he received from various cities Vi Toi smoke tail.
I like chewie Art The company also said in Civil
I say that because my music into H. Chiu;
Sour ever since I went without nude Master;
Computer message to the tail, the companies go, training ground Mate you work:
Het and Chua Trojan to the site, Nghi different toi toi love is rare tail Computers
Minhu up with any sound and Psi Compare refused.

____

My lord, there are some keeper lines in that mess:

• Sour ever since I went without nude Master
• Detector on the snow, trains and mucus on the harbor to the tail.

One can always edit some garble out, but the writing exercise here is to take some of this and spin it off into a poem.   I think over my lunch at WallyMart today, I’m going to try and do just that.

Fun With Automated Translators

I enjoyed writing the following turzanelle, but honestly, I don’t think it has much of a future finding a home.  So, I’m opting to play with it here.  Forgive the”oulipo-ish” or nearly Dadaist nature of this exercise.  But, first, the poem …….

I’m not even going to swat that fly.

I hope they are watching. They’ll see.

They’ll see. They’ll say, “She didn’t sigh.”

They’ll know the woman I can be—

Prim, proper in my rocking chair

I hope they are watching. They’ll see.

They’ll see it’s Norman and his stare

And not me, old and frail in my years,

Prim, proper in my rocking chair.

These are all part of my many fears—

that a son could be so brutal, so cold

unlike me, old and frail in my years.

I tried, oh I tried, and I could only scold

You might as well just stab me with a knife.

From a unforgiving son so brutal, so cold:

He said he loved me, but took my life.

I’m not even going to swat that fly.

He cut me more than with that knife.

Norman  knew this, and  he didn’t sigh.

______

And now, care of Google Translate, a careless Dutch translation:

Ik ben niet eens gaan swat dat vliegen.
Ik hoop dat ze kijken. Ze zullen zien.
Ze zullen zien. Ze zullen zeggen: “Ze wist niet zucht.”

Ze weet de vrouw die ik kan be –
Prim, goed in mijn schommelstoel
Ik hoop dat ze kijken. Ze zullen zien.

Ze zullen zien dat het Norman en zijn blik
En niet mij, oude en kwetsbare mijn jaar
Prim, goed in mijn schommelstoel.

Dit zijn allemaal onderdeel van mijn vele angsten –
dat een zoon kon zo brutaal zijn, zo koud
in tegenstelling tot mij, oude en frêle in mijn jaar.

Ik probeerde, oh ik heb geprobeerd, en ik kon alleen berispen
Je zou net zo goed mij neersteken met een mes.
Van een onverzoenlijk zoon zo brutaal, zo koud:

Hij zei dat hij van me hield, maar nam mijn leven.
Ik ben niet eens gaan swat dat vliegen.
Hij sneed me meer dan met dat mes.
Norman wist dit, en hij niet zucht.

______

Now, we take this Dutch version and flip it into Swahili

I’m hata kwenda SWAT nzi.
Natumaini wao kuangalia. Wao wataona.
Wao wataona. Watasema: “She didn’t sigh.”

Yeye anajua mwanamke naweza kuwa —
Prim, vizuri katika wangu mwenyekiti rocking
Natumaini wao kuangalia. Wao wataona.

Wao wataona kwamba Norman na nadhari yake
Si yangu, miaka ya zamani na mazingira magumu yangu
Prim, vizuri katika kiti rocking wangu.

Haya yote ni sehemu ya hofu nyingi wangu —
kuwa mwana inaweza kuwa hivyo kikatili, hivyo baridi
tofauti na mimi, mzee na dhaifu kabisa katika miaka yangu.

Nilijaribu, oh I’ve walijaribu, na mimi nilikuwa tu lawama
Unaweza vilevile nami chini na kudungwa na kisu kisu.
Kutoka kwa mwana hivyo unforgiving kikatili, hivyo baridi:

Alisema alinipenda, lakini alichukua maisha yangu.
I’m hata kwenda SWAT nzi.
Yeye kukatwa mimi zaidi kuliko kisu.
Norman alijua hili, na hakuwa sigh.

____

Swahili into Welsh

Rwy’n hyd yn oed yn mynd i swyddogion SWAT.
Rwy’n gobeithio y maent yn edrych. Byddant yn gweld.
Byddant yn gweld. Maent yn dweud: “Nid oedd hi wedi sigh.”

Mae’n gwybod y gallaf fod yn ferch —
Prim, yn dda yn fy Chwŷf gadeirydd
Rwy’n gobeithio y maent yn edrych. Byddant yn gweld.

Byddant yn gweld bod y Normaniaid a’i nadhari
Nid fy gorffennol ac fy agored i niwed
Prim, yn dda yn fy gadair Chwŷf.

Mae’r rhain i gyd yn rhan o fy ofnau llawer —
gall fod yn fab fel creulon, felly oer
gwahanol i mi, ac yn hen wan iawn yn fy mlynedd.

Rwy’n ceisio, oh Rwyf wedi ceisio, a gallai Fi ond bai
Rydych chi hefyd i lawr a mi drywanu y gyllell.
O’r Son unforgiving mor greulon, felly oer:

Roedd yn hoff iawn i mi, ond fe gymerodd fy mywyd.
Rwy’n hyd yn oed yn mynd i swyddogion SWAT.
He dorri mwy na mi y gyllell.
Norman yn gwybod hyn, ac nid sigh.

____

And Welsh into Turkish

Hatta SWAT gidin.
Sanırım umuyoruz. Onlar da görecekler.
Onlar da görecekler. Onlar: “O iç değildi.”

Benim bir kadın olabilir bilir —
Prim, iyi benim sandalyede Taş
Sanırım umuyoruz. Onlar da görecekler.

Onlar göreceksiniz Normanlar ve nadhari
Benim geçmiş ve benim güvenlik açığı
Prim, benim sandalye Stone iyi.

Bunlar benim çok korkuları bir parçasıdır —
oğlu bu nedenle soğuk zalim olabilir
bana ve çok eski yıllarda zayıf farklı.

I, oh i, ve eğer sadece olabilir denedim deneyin
Sen de aşağı ve bıçağı batırdı.
Oğlu affetmez zalim, çok soğuk gibi:

O beni sevdi, ama hayatımı aldı.
Hatta SWAT gidin.
Bana kesme bıçağı fazla.
Norman, ve bu iç bilmezler.

____

Turkish into Thai

แม้ ต บ ไป.
ฉัน คิด หวัง. พวก เขา จะ เห็น.
พวก เขา จะ เห็น. พวก เขา กล่าว ว่า เขา ไม่ ได้ ภายใน.

ฉัน รู้ ว่า ฉัน อาจ เป็น หญิง —
Prime, ดี เก้าอี้ ของ ฉัน Taylor
ฉัน คิด หวัง. พวก เขา จะ เห็น.

พวก เขา จะ เห็น น อ ร์ มัน และ nadhari
อดีต และ จุดอ่อน ของ ฉัน ของ ฉัน
เรียบร้อย, เก้าอี้ หิน ของ ฉัน ดี.

เหล่า นี้ เป็น ส่วน หนึ่ง ของ กลัว มาก ของ ฉัน —
บุตร สามารถ เพื่อ โหดร้าย เย็น
ใน ความ เก่า และ ความ อ่อนแอ ให้ ฉัน แตก ต่าง.

I, โอ้ ฉัน เพียง สามารถ ลอง และ ถ้า ลอง
และ ท่าน ได้ ลง มา และ ใบ sunk.
ลูก จะ ไม่ ทรง อภัยโทษ ธรรม เช่น เย็น มาก:

เขา รัก ฉัน แต่ ชีวิต ของ ฉัน เอา.
แม้ ต บ ไป.
ฉัน กว่า ตัด เครื่องมือ.
น อ ร์ มัน และ ภายใน ไม่ ทราบ.

_____

And Thai back to English —

Despite the slap.
I hope. They will see.
They will see. They say he is not within.

I know I may be female -.
Prime, a good chair, my Taylor.
I hope. They will see.

They will see it and North nadhari.
My past and my weaknesses.
Done, my good chair rocks.

These are part of many of my fears -.
Children to be ruthlessly cold.
In the old and weak to me the difference.

I, O can only try and if I try.
And leaves you down and sunk.
Children will not forgive just as much cool:.

He loves me but my life took.
Despite the slap.
I cut more than tools.
North and within it do not know.

Three Essential Poetry Anthologies

I think, if one wants a quick (so, to speak) lesson in contemporary poetics, one needs to own the following anthologies.  (And this is in no particular order)

North America doesn’t live a cultural vacuum.  This hefty gives a hefty cross section of current poetry in Europe.  Sure, it’s not definative, but what continent wide anthology could be?

Modernism has come and gone.  So has post-modernism, to an extent.  We arn’t exactly at “post-human” poetics yet, and hopefully, we never will be.  But this book tends to showcase what is essentially, avant garde poetry meets contemporary American poetry.    It’ tries to eke out a middle ground, much the way a journal like FENCE has often tried to.

This book is  a classic.  There’s no other way of putting it.  As an anthology of political poetry, it has no equal.  As a book of “baring witness” through poetry, it still has no equal.  On a more basic level, it’s also international in scope, covering the major events of the 20th century.  If you’re at a book store confronted with all three books mentioned, buy this one first.