consonantsandvowels

OCTOBER 10, 2010 10:17PM

Monday, when it sees me coming (formica fusca)

Rate: 9 Flag

 

 

That's why Monday, when it sees me coming
with my convict face, blazes up like gasoline,
and it howls on its way like a wounded wheel,
and leaves tracks full of warm blood leading toward the
      night.

And it pushes me into certain corners, into some moist
     houses,
into hospitals where the bones fly out the window,
into shoeshops that smell like vinegar,
and certain streets hideous as cracks in the skin.

 

 

- from Walking Around by Pablo Neruda translated by Robert Bly  -  and here’s another translation by Mikey K.

 


 

 

..............dragged memories of drift and linger

 .....swarm.......across.the.countertop..........

 tiny ants......my.pressing.finger......

.........formica..................make...it..stop....

 

 

 

 

 .

 

 

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you just know I had to look up those ants

I read the original Neruda and I have always been amazed at how can some translators take a material, that is obviously awe-inspiring in its original form, and they are able to convey the same feelings the first one brings and create a piece that is not only a translation, but a reworking of the material, a work of art that stands on its own

I enjoyed the way your images are almost structural in their value, how they can make me see and *see* what you are writing. I hope this makes sense, I mean, I know what I am trying to say but I don't know if it *translates* as it should

because things get lost in translation, they always do, and then you find others you didn't expect, and are precious just the same
Vanessa ~ I wanted to ask you how "dank" would be translated into Spanish. Yeah, the little periods are ants. And I'm so happy you got the translator thing - that's a linguistic bent of mine.
And, yes, would count on you to look it up. Formica fusca - the slave ants. I learned the word formica in Latin class. Oh, Latin - you poor, sad, dead, language.
dank would be frío y húmedo, or fría y húmeda if the word being described is considered a feminine word in Spanish
(in Spanish the h sound is always silent, which on a completely unrelated comment, my daughter (she who asserts she speaks bird) says her cousin is like the letter h, silent. i thought it was a funny thing to say, and weird, plenty weird)

now i'm off, to bang my head on my own new generation-Formica counter as my middle class Catholic school never offered Latin courses, and now i'm depressed :-)

no, not really, i'm waiting up to see if other poets post and comparing male medieval clothing so i can fix a paragraph that has been giving me grief. the bits i need translated into latin are being done by a friend of a friend
I think you'll always be connected with unicorns and flamboyans for me. I forgot most of what I learned.
And thanks, Vanessa for the translation. Bly used moist and Mikel K. used humid and I was thinking maybe dank.
i think dank would be best, it seems to convey the image more accurately than even humid would do, humid is the weather, a forest, but a house is dank, with its accompanying smells and colors
moist, somehow, brings certain mental images, that, eww
or coffee cake, yes, definitely coffee cake, let's keep this light

i'm closing shop for tonight. i was going to post a pic of the one rain-less sunset we've had in 3 weeks but i'm just too tired for that now
buenas noches
There's a line that's killing me just now, so I needed a break. You got me all curious, and I had to have the etymology of dank.

Comes from Middle English. Figures, since it only has one syllable, and doesn't translate. My French dictionary says "humide (et froid)". Still not enough. There's an emotional component to it that's missing.

Your POEM however is marvelous. And I got that the dots were the ants. You got tiny curmudgeon invaders tonights?
Every time I go to the kitchen - new, soon dead, friends. sigh.
Cinnamon. They can't cross it, and it makes the kitchen smell great.
Perfect! Autumny scent and weird sort of voodoo to boot.
Wonderful. And the comments are grand also. This is why I love OS.
Rated.
I have Neruda in the bathroom...in the bedroom, next to my bed...I love him always. But I guess, without making it gross, that I make sure any guest in my home has something to read in the bathroom, and I make sure it is poetry!
Perhaps a cinnamon OS anthology should be considered? For guests and ants and bathroom reading.
Darkness and futility, then distilling conversation, research, praise and love of poetry. What connections you do start with your words. What a start to Monday here. Grateful for the cinnamon from Bard.
Now I'll be sprinkling cinnamon all all around the perimeter of my kitchen.

And--please--make it not stop.
Interesting, as Neruda translations always give me pause, because I don't read Spanish and they always seem so different than one another, I want to read what he wrote always.
Wow . . . this is really amazing. I need to read some Neruda - original and translated, 'cuz my Spanish is so rusty.
You are so talented. rated

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