translating & transfusing

lily pollen

hybrid lily on my kitchen table, a present from my sister

I've been reading a lot of Ukrainian poetry lately to soothe my thesis-addled brain, and I came across this quote by Oksana Zabuzhko, an author I enjoy (from her webpage)

«Переклад улюблених поетів – то немов переливання крови: таким робом всотуєш у себе невловно й невимовно нові, відмінні від твоїх способи почування, приховані під машкарою чужої мови».

«Входить Фортінбрас»

And now, I translate:

"The translation of one's beloved poets is much like getting a blood transfusion -- it opens you up to new ways of feeling that are nearly imperceptible and had til now been disguised by a foreign speech"

from her essay 'Enter Fortinbras'.

I love that analogy very much -- the act of translating being one of transfusing oneself with these new feelings and ideas, and through this process incorporating them into our own senses and understandings. Reading Valzhyna Mort has also got me inspired to do more translating lately, as well. It's something I've always enjoyed doing since I started studying the language formally at university in my undergrad days, when I was introduced to many Ukrainian contemporary poets and writers. I fell in love with certain pieces that made their way into my canon of favourites, and I wanted so much for non-Ukrainian speakers I knew to be able to appreciate them. So I set about to make my own translations to share. In some of the cases, I discovered there were English translations in existence already -- but I still felt compelled to create my own. I think it is similar to the reasons Oksana Zabuzhko gives in that quote . The process of transcribing infuses me with some of those beloved words, so I benefit from the act of doing so... But it's not all that selfish -- at the same time, I transfuse some of myself into my translation, so that my new piece carries a bit of myself as well. And that's what I wanted to share with people, I suppose. A bit of my own self carried in a new text, that might somehow encode how much I loved the piece, how much I related to it. There can never be too many translations, I don't think.

I've done three pieces -- two poems, 'Poets have no gender' by Halyna Kruk, and 'A Definition of Poetry' by Oksana Zabuzhko; one short story by Mykola Vinhranovskyj, 'White Flowers'. & there are more I want to do! I've posted them in here at some point in the last few years (see this month's archives for Kruk, this month for Vinhranovskyj) but I may make a little zine of totally unauthorized translations for giving to people I like who I think would appreciate these pieces. (My ultimate dream would be to inspire someone to learn Ukrainian to read these bits in their original language... 'tis always better, despite what any translators & their love can do. There's always the uncapturable space within, in between, that never can quite be captured, conveyed, retransfused into the new rendition.)