Light

I've noticed a while ago that my "Categories" sidebar stopped working, for some mysterious reason, probably while TypePad was being upgraded. Since I wasn't posting and had no time to spare to figure it out (as usual, I assumed it was MY fault), I just let it go, but it bothered me: I couldn't find anything anymore.

So this a.m. I opened a help ticket with the nice folks at TypePad and lo! Sidebar restored. 

This has got to be the most boring customer service story EVER, I realize that, I do. But it's the most excitement my life can take right now. Sad, no?

In other news, I've become some sort of a sleeper hit, and by hit I mean, of course, that, apart from myself, two or more people seem to visit this blog, some even from time to time, even though I haven't really posted in over a year… and some others (gasp!) even leave comments, which, while deeply appreciated when I eventually discovered them, have been left to linger due to my aforementioned lack of activity on this blog. Guys, I'm sorry: I'll get there, I promise!

In the meantime, I've been translating alright, just not anything I actually enjoy or that's worth posting about (unless you're into complex clinical trial protocols and nauseatingly patriotic exemplary stories. Um…more on that later.)

But since it's Easter here, I'm going to post a short translation I did a while ago, by Tudor Arghezi, who, just in case you forgot, used to be an Orthodox monk for four years before settling on a career as a poet. I'm smiling right not because hey, those two career choices, one after the other? It would be really nice to have those kind of options today, you know?

What follows is the Romanian original, a quick and dirty literal translation, and a more polished and rhyming one:

Lumină by Tudor Arghezi Azi e sărbătoare mare, Îmbracă-te frumos, Pune-n păr felii de soare Şi nu privi în jos… Şterge orice supărare Din inima ta: Azi primeşte fiecare Lumină de stea. Nici o zi din calendare, Oricît ai căuta, N-are-aşa putere mare: Ne vom înălţa, Ne vom înălţa ! Ne vom înălţa, Ne vom înălţa, Ne vom înălţa, Ne vom înălţa, Ne vom înălţa, Ne vom înălţa !

Light Today is a big holiday Put on your Sunday best, Put slices of sun in your hair And don’t look down…   Erase any sorrow From your heart: Today everybody receives Light of a star.   No day in calendars, No matter how hard you look, Has such big power: We will rise, We will rise! etc.

Light A big holiday’s in the air Put on your best gown, Put slices of sun in your hair And don’t look down…   Your heart shouldn’t grieve Erase every scar: Today we all receive Light from a star.   In the calendars, no day No matter how long you seek Has such mighty sway: We shall rise! We shall rise! We shall rise! We shall rise! We shall rise! We shall rise! We shall rise! We shall rise!

Now, I've stopped celebrating Easter when my current religious views became incompatible with it, and by my "current" religious views I of course mean my non-existent religious views. Still, this poem made me smile, in a wise-but-candid sort of way, and so I'm going to share.

No perilous linguistic waters to cross with this one, just some tinkering here and there; this was pleasant to translate, almost (dare I say?) a breeze! Unlike Morgestimmung, Arghezi's mini-masterpiece, which has been causing me headaches for about two years (that's when I first decided to pursue its translation). This should answer a comment somebody left a while ago: yes, I have though about translating Morgenstimmung, and no, I have not been able to, not yet anyway. I have a pathetic attempt, an ersatz translation, if you will… it's fiendishly difficult and I'm starting to belive it's close to impossible (cue action music: Translation Impossible, as I hang by a thread over the alarm-tripping laser beams, but all my high-tech arsenal just can't unlock the secrets of that safe! bah!). Apparently, a competent translation exists in German, go figure! If any of you know of an English version, enlighten me, for I'm just about to give up!

Hail…

The hail we've got last night in Philly provides the appropriate dots to the multitude of ?!?!?!?!?!? (quesclamation marks?) that my life has turned into lately. It was no ordinary hail either–not like one I'd ever seen, with deafening raps reminiscent of an army of monkey typing furiously at once–a mock celestial experiment to see if they could produce…what, Shakespeare? As I watched my tenderly cared-for roses taking a brutal beating under the chickpea-sized ice bits (complemented by a brief but violent thunderstorm for good measure), I concluded that the work I'm translating now might have been produced in a similar (failed) experiment. Something semi-coherent and with intelligible words came out, miraculously, but the question remains: is it good? Was it worth it?

In a word: NO. I've undertaken a translation project which I should have never undertaken, but when I tried to get out of it, it was quasi-impossible for reasons I am loath to explain. Now I'm late with the project (at least there's no emergency…) as I'm trying to unscramble my mind from prolonged exposure to tortured language and logic, to say nothing of the underlying political philosophy of this lengthy piece, a philosophy I abhor. Between the cliches, the involuntary humor (the worst kind if you ever want to be taken seriously, as this author does), the lengthy expository passages devoid of any credibility whatsoever, the prolonged oh-my-God-get-on-with-it-already-for-real-wtf plot points, and the archaic vocabulary which requires extensive researched, I am DOOMED.

And of course, the deadline (past due already) comes in the middle of the busiest period of my life, bar none, seriously, honest to God. Which means, logically, that I MUST update this page for the first time in four (FOUR) frigging months.

Ok, just thought I'd kvetch. In the meantime, I've got to go grade the approximately forty gazillion student papers I still have to grade, plus teach, plus committee work, plus own research (Ha. Ha-ha-ha. I'm so funny) and *gurgle* help *gurrrllllllgggrrrrr* I'm drowning here @!#$%^^&&$…………..

10 months of uneven days

It's been 10 months since the last entry, which can only mean that:
1) I am in no way, shape, or form a proper Blogger;

2) I've really missed this place! Really!

I had this ambition to pursue a different, "life" blog on the side, but that went the way of "Saturday's water," to quote the brilliant yet now seemingly defunct Mintrubbing.org. Life sorta….kinda…got in the way. I finished and defended my dissertation and got my Ph.D. (no, not in poetry nor in translation, but in – are you ready for this?- rhetoric); and later on I got a job and spent the past 3+ months teaching freshman comp, in a 4/4 load non-TT job at a university whose chief virtue is that it is located 20 minutes away from my house (10' by bus, 10' on foot). I'm writing this with a 3-ft high stack of papers still needing to be graded next to me, so it seems like just about the right time, no?
So…that kept me relatively busy.

But enough of that: this is not a personal blog in THAT way, although of course it's highly personal in every other way, if you consider that each selection posted here speaks to me and reflects me, at least at this particular juncture in time.

I've decided to make my comeback with a song I've often hummed under my breath, by my beloved Andries, "Zile egale," which can be translated by "Equal" or "Even Days." I'm still torn which to choose. "Equal" is the literal and quite correct translation of "egal," "even" has that implication of flatness, levelness, and steadiness, of routine, if you will, which is also the meaning here; however, I'm not sure that this would be clear in English from the sole instance that the phrase appears in the song…

What I love in most of Andries's work is that feeling of "huh" that he leaves you with at the end, and he doesn't disappoint here, either; it's that mundane and mischievous side that keeps him from sliding into sentimental crap and keeps his lyrics a notch or 10 above other writers'.

The syntax is quite simple and I've sought to preserve it as much as I could (I can't help it, I am sort of a purist), even when it sounded a little forced in English, as in "Why, I don't know, I'm lonely so/I go…"–but when read, or better, sung with the right intonation, it makes sense, and it capitalizes on that inner rhyme he's so fond of here.
I absolutely adore the final metaphor, the "equal/even" days whose burden creeps into his room, populating it with shadows and turning it into a little curiosity shop for his absent lover. It's as beautiful as it's unassuming and ending with the invitation to shop for "soul" souvenirs, I imagine.

Which brings me to my linguistic conundrum of the day: the Romanian for window display or shop window display is "vitrina," applicable also to any piece of furniture fitted with a glass display case in order to show off bibelots and various decorative objects. Much to my surprise, the word exists almost in the same form in English; I found this in the Merriam-Webster:

vi·trine [Pronunciation:\və-ˈtrēn\], noun. Etymology: French, from vitre pane of glass, from Old French, from Latin vitrum. Date: 1880. A glass showcase or cabinet especially for displaying fine wares or specimens

…which renders the meaning of "vitrina" quite beautifully, except perhaps for the commercial meaning extension it has acquired in Romanian (shop window). Also, "vitrina" is a fairly well-used word in Romanian, as one can imagine, whereas I dare you find handy contexts for the use of "vitrine" in English. (I've never heard it used at all, in fact). This led to my more mundane choice of "shop window" with the addition of "sign" for the rhyme, and whose insertion here I will defend on two accounts: 1) it rhymes better, duh (there's virtually no good rhyme for "window," did you know that?); 2) the shadowy play of the "traces" of the "equal days" points, indeed, to the making of an intricate sign of sorts (right?); 3) it doesn't change much of the meaning–right? right? (Ok, a little, but we can live with it!).

As all of Andries, this sounds better on music…I'll try to put the mp3 up one of these days!

Zile egale de Alexandru Andrieş Telefonul pentru mine e un duşman, Îl ţin pe podea, ascuns după divan, Pentru mine niciodată nu sună, Şi cînd sună, nu-i zi bună, Zău, nu, Tu nu eşti la celălalt capăt… De ce nu, nu ştiu, e-n jur pustiu Şi-atunci la plimbare pe stradă ies ! Rareori mă salută cineva Şi-asta doar dac-are nevoie de cîte ceva, Eu cu toată lumea m-am purtat frumos Dar lucrurile mi-au ieşit mereu pe dos, Zău, Azi aş fi avut nevoie de tine, Te-am sunat, te-am căutat, dar în zadar: Încerc mîine iar! Zile egale peste mine apasă, Închid fereastra să nu intre-n casă, Da' ele se strecoară prin geamul crăpat Şi se-aşează peste tot, pe masă, pe pat, Pe scaun… Urma lor fină Transformă camera mea în vitrină… N-ai vrea să intri, să cumperi ceva ?

Equal Days by de Alexandru Andrieş The phone is an enemy to me, I keep it under the bed, so I can’t see it, It never rings for me, and when it rings It’s only to tell me really bad things, Really, it's true, You’re not at the other end… Why, I don’t know, I’m lonely so I go outside to roam the streets… People rarely say hello to me, And only if they need me to do something for free I have always been nice to everyone, But my plans have always come undone, Really, Today I needed you so badly I’ve been calling you and I’ve looked for you, in vain: I’ll try tomorrow again… Equal days are bearing down on me, I’ve closed my window so they can’t get in, But they creep inside through the broken frame And they sit on my bed, on my desk, and they claim My chair… Their traces so fine Turn my room into a shop window sign… Won’t you come in, buy something from me?

Emil Brumaru–Amnesia

Ooof…long hiatus here, as I took a break to finish off my dissertation…now it’s in the hands of the adviser, and now I’m barely containing my jitters (major revisions are sure to come, and that’s the optimistic scenario). I’m taking a break from .. doing anything, really, and trying to forget, like in this sweet little poem by Brumaru, which teaches us how to forget everything:

Amnezie de Emil Brumary dacă iei o portocală şi-o dezbraci in pielea goală ca să-i vezi miezul adânc peste care îngeri plâng cu căpşune-n loc de ochi şi aripi de foi de plopi se întâmplă să uiţi totul…

Amnesia by Emil Brumary Take an orange, strip it down Of its juicy fleshy gown Look into its core so deep Over which the angels weep Strawberries for eyes and sleeves And its wings of poplar leaves That’s how you forget everything.

George Topârceanu – Jealousy

I think Topârceanu will always be remembered for this kind of poems–fun, light, good for a chuckle, making you think about pretty deep things while making fun of them at the same time. I love this one, in particular:

Gelozie de George Topârceanu Dacă nu ne-am fi-ntâlnit (Absolut din întâmplare), Tu pe altul oarecare Tot aşa l-ai fi iubit. Dacă nu-ţi ieşeam în drum Ai fi dat cu bucurie Altuia străin, nu mie, Mângâierile de-acum. Ai avea şi vreun copil Care, poate (idiotul!), Ar fi semănat în totul Cu-acel tată imbecil. Şi aşa… ce lucru mare Că-ntr-o zi ne-am întâlnit Şi că-s foarte fericit, – Absolut din întâmplare!

Jealousy by George Topârceanu If you and I had never met (Absolutely happenstance) You’d have found perhaps romance With some other guy, I bet. If I hadn’t crossed your way You’d have offered happily To a stranger, not to me, This affectionate display. You’d most likely have a child Who, (the idiot!) would look Every cranny, every nook, Like his dad, that imbecile. And so…what a lucky chance That the two of us should meet And I’m happy and upbeat— Absolutely happenstance!

Nichita Stanescu–Of course

DESIGUR de Nichita Stănescu Desigur, ea e o brăţară purtată la mână de un zeu ea e mai liniştită spre seară deşi e neliniştită mereu. Ea luceşte toată în luna când zeul îsi ridică braţul zâmbind, o lebădă brună cu plisc de argint Zeul e invizibil. Nu se vede decât ea la glezna mâinii lui, bătând în cerul negru şi verde vederea mea ca un cui.

OF COURSE by Nichita Stănescu She is, of course, a bracelet, that a god wears on his hand, she’s more quiet in the evening, though she’s always without rest. She shimmers in the moon dawn when the god lifts his arm, oblique, a beautiful brown swan with a silver beak. The god is invisible. You can spy only her, on the ankle of his wrist, nailing into the green black sky my eyesight, like a fist.

Dorothy Parker–A Pig’s Eye View of Literature

It’s impossible to translate "A Pig’s Eye View of…"–too much of a pun. Possibly, "O vedere din cocina" (a view from the pigsty"), but I went for "o perspectiva sumara" (a brief view). Otherwise, fun little poem; I wish I knew it in college when I was actually studying this trio!

A Pig’s-Eye View Of Literature by Dorothy Parker The Lives and Times of John Keats, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron Byron and Shelley and Keats Were a trio of Lyrical treats. The forehead of Shelley was cluttered with curls, And Keats never was a descendant of earls, And Byron walked out with a number of girls, But it didn’t impair the poetical feats Of Byron and Shelley, Of Byron and Shelley, Of Byron and Shelley and Keats.

O perspectivă sumară asupra literaturii de Dorothy Parker Vieţile şi vremurile lui John Keats, Percy Bysshe Shelley, şi George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron Byron şi Shelley şi Keats— Un trio de lirici vestiţi. Fruntea lui Shelley avea cârlionţi Şi Keats niciodată n-avu neamuri conţi, Curta fete Byron cu alţi bagabonţi, Dar ca poeţi nu fură nicicând stăviliţi, Nici Byron nici Shelley, Nici Byron nici Shelley, Nici Byron nici Shelley nici Keats.