Me, in translation

From what I hear, writers are not very fond of translating their own work. I can understand that with large novels (who wants to write in excess of 200 pages all over again? The impulse to re-write rather than translate would be overwhelming.) Poetry, however, seems to be more amenable to being translated by the author. Or so I think, after I played a little with this little nothing poem I wrote…mmm…a while ago. Not grand poetry by any and all measure, but on the plus side–it was kinda translatable. Well, it wasn’t very complicated or particularly deep, either, so that helped. I wrote it in English in the original–and just wanted to see how it feels to translate your own work.

Not half as bad as I thought! There are some linguistic treasons, which this time I felt fully entitled to undertake. It’s my damn poem, after all!

Just one small observation: I used a Romanian rhyme dictionary and was taken aback at the multitude of rhymes I could find for one word. I never realized, I guess, that Romanian was so full of rhymes! By comparison, English seems to be much tougher, rhyme-wise. My preliminary hypothesis is that’s due to the multitude of inflections, which creates ample opportunities for similar endings (think gender, declension, number, conjugation, you name it). I’ll have to look into it.

I want to love your every nook and cranny And softly reaching for you, I want to taste your lips, I want to be your lover, your friend, your wife, your nanny, I want to kiss your belly, and dive into your hips. I want to giggle with you when I caress your arms Through every pleasure bud I’ll filter all your fingers, I want to feel your skin under my hungry palms I want to twist your body as over me it lingers. I want to feel again the taste of dew and bread Your neck imparts so gently, until I’m satisfied, I want to feel your mouth, I want you in my bed, I want to be your ocean, and you, to swim inside.

Vreau să-ţi iubesc oricare şi orişice crevasă, Să-ţi gust sărutul fraged cu limbi nesăţioase, Vreau să îţi fiu iubită, prietenă, mireasă, Să te sărut pe şolduri, să îţi plonjez în coapse. Vreau să îţi gâdil braţul cu dulci atingeri blânde Şi degetele toate să-ţi cern prin noi plăceri, Vreau să-ţi simt pielea caldă sub palmele flămânde, Şi trupu-ţi să-ţi frământ în crunte mângâieri. Şi vreau să simt iar gustul de pâine şi de rouă Ce gâtul tău împarte, cu tandre ghilotine, Te vreau în pat alături şi când afară plouă, Vreau să îţi fiu ocean, şi tu—să înoţi în mine.

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