Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Words on the Move

Every year the Literary Translator's Association of Canada stages "Words of the Move". Members of the general public are invited to translate an English or French poem by a living Quebec poet into the language of their choice. Their translations are posted on the association website, and they share their work with the poets who wrote the originals at a round-robin reading, which will take place this year on Friday April 4 (7 pm) at the Depanneur Cafe. I'm sure the event is always pleasant; it's also the first one I'll be able to attend, because it doesn't fall on a teaching night.

The English poet this year is Catherine Kidd (you can read her poem here); the French poet is Patrick Coppens. The Coppens poem was fun to recast into English: I did that last weekend. I don't know if it's an extract from a larger work, or meant to be a complete poem in itself. Here's my translation, followed by the original:

Secret Notebooks
of Agathe Brisebois

Patrick Coppens

******


I work for eternity,
in evanescence.

Space invades forms
mind intimates colors

…regarding colors,
those that fade
were not made to last.

Sleigh: words. Bells: chill.

Poetry puts in disorder
my forgotten memories.

*****

He asked me the time.
I refused.
At his befuddlement, I said:
worry not, it will come.

It was noon.
One day, I lived my life,
the next day, yours.
Then it was done.

"I think you are a poet
but you will never find the new,
that is to say, the essential,
except in contemplating your own naval."
(Max Jacob,
letter to Francois Gachot, May 7, 1926)


*****

Don’t forget the photos,
us dancing in Sospel,
near Merlanson.

Summer love
a gooseberry in the head.

Mysteries breed
like rabbits. Hat!

"The assemblage of illusion and reality
in the same subject made him
the disturbing mirror of our inner selves. "
(Bernard Noël,
Les peintres du désir, 1992)

I love abstraction
in the interstices of the real.

*****

Anonymity,
some days, weighs on me,
on others, hurts;
I welcome it all the same:
none can take that away from me.
But when I write, when I draw,
I am the Queen, adulated by my subjects.

Pleasing exhausts
those who do not love themselves enough.

*****

Style.
What can I do?


LUCK IS A PAINTING
BY WINNING NUMBERS


-- translation by Brian Campbell ©Mar. 2008



Carnets secrets
d'Agathe Brisebois

Patrick
Coppens


*****

Je travaille pour l'éternité,
mais dans l'évanescence.

formes occupées d'espace
raison intime des couleurs

À propos des couleurs,
celles qui passent
n'étaient pas faites pour durer.

Froid de grelots, traîneau des mots.

La poésie met du désordre
dans mes souvenirs oubliés.

*****

Il s'approcha pour me demander l'heure,
Je lui refusai.
Devant son air interloqué, je précisai :
ne t'inquiète pas, elle viendra.

Il était midi.
Un jour, j'ai vécu ma vie,
et le lendemain, la tienne.
Apres, c'était fini.
« Je crois que tu es poète
mais tu ne trouveras du nouveau,
c'est-à-dire l'essentiel,
qu'en contemplant ton nombril à toi. »
(Max Jacob,
lettre à François Gachot, 7 mai 1926)
*****

Ne pas oublier les photos ;
celles où nous dansions à Sospel,
au bord du Merlanson.

amours d'été
une groseille dans la tête

Les mystères se reproduisent
comme des lapins. Chapeau !

« L'assemblage de l'illusion et de la réalité
dans un même objet fait de lui
le miroir troublant de notre intériorité. »
(Bernard Noël,
Les peintres du désir, 1992)


J'aime l'abstraction
dans les interstices du réel.

*****

L'anonymat,
certains jours, me pèse,
d'autres, me chagrine;
je m'en réjouis tout de même
car personne ne peut m'en priver.
Mais quand j'écris, quand je dessine,
je me sens reine, adulée par mes sujets.


Plaire épuise ceux
qui ne s'aiment pas assez.

*****

Le style.
Qu'y puis-je ?


LA CHANCE EST UNE PEINTURE
À NUMÉROS GAGNANTS.

Just came back from Words on the Move. It was a fascinating event, where at least 8 translations of each poem were read out. The translations differed quite widely -- but I tell you, there were phrases from each one I would steal, and quite viable ones that would never have crossed my mind. Makes one think that composite translation would be the best approach. Will add some highlights to the post below.

Most, I imagine, would think that it would be tedious to hear and read 8 versions of the same poem -- but really, quite the opposite is true. It helps one to improve one's own prowess, to think outside the box of one's own perceptions.

Here are some highlights from other translations:

Where I translated,

I work for eternity,
in evanescence

Maxianne Berger wrote,

I towards forever
but within evanescence.

Where I translated,

Sleigh: words. Bells: chill.

Maxianne Berger translated

Chill of sleighbells, sledding words.

and Hugh Hazelton translated

Shivering bells, sleighing words.

Karin Montin

jingling cold, sleighful of words

and Greg Kelm wrote

Jingle jangle, words in a tangle.

Where I translated,

Poetry puts in disorder
my forgotten memories.

Maxianne wrote,

Poetry makes a muddle
of the memories I don't recall.

and Hugh Hazelton wrote,

Poetry messes up
my forgotten memories.

and Greg Kelm wrote,

Poetry jumbles up
my forgotten memories.

Where I (and others) wrote, quite literally

Summer love
a gooseberry in the head

Maxianne wrote

summer love
pudding head

Jonathan Kaplansky wrote

summer loves
giddy-headed

and Claire Maryniak

summer loves
berries for brains

and Greg Kelm

summer love
a currant in my brain.

And for the final line, where I wrote

LUCK IS A PAINTING
BY WINNING NUMBERS

Maxianne wrote

BY NUMBERS THAT WIN

Jonathan Kaplansky

WHOSE NUMBERS HAVE WON

while Karin Montin wrote,

FORTUNE IS A PAINT-BY-NUMBER KIT
WITH LUCKY NUMBERS

and Aviva Shimelman

LUCK IS A PAINT-BY-NUMBERS
MASTERPIECE

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