Showing posts with label translation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label translation. Show all posts

Friday, December 23, 2022

GoFundMe for Pat Campaign

Dear Friends:

I'm writing to inform you that Patricia Donegan, poet, translator, and author of Haiku Mind is not well and in need of help. A circle of her friends in Chicago launched a "GoFundMe for Pat" campaign

I'd be most grateful if you could pray for her health and well being. 
Thank you very much in advance. 

Sincerely,
Yoshie Ishibashi


Editor's Note: In celebration of 2016 International Women's Day, I introduced readers to Chiyo-ni: Woman Haiku Master, edited and translated with notes by Patricia Donegan and Yoshie Ishibashi (Tuttle Publishing, 1998), the first English language book about Chiyo-ni’s life and poetry. This collection of her works includes “not only a representative selection of 100 of her haiku, but the only extant haibun (complete), a substantial section of renku, and, perhaps best of all, a 40-page biography and 20-some pages discussing her art.” Here are some of my favourite haiku:

at the crescent moon
the silence
enters the heart

the moon's shadow
also pauses --
cherry blossom dawn 

a hundred gourds
from the heart 
of one vine

rouged lips
forgotten --
clear spring water

from time to time
the cloud loses track
of the skylark

Tuesday, July 6, 2021

Poetic Musings: Basho's Old Pond Haiku Translated by Cid Corman

THE
old pond
                              frog leaping
                splash

One Man's Moon, 2003

Cid Corman

Commentary: It's nicer, because you don't need so many words, you don't need so many syllables to say; but it's word for word the Japanese. But I also point out by the structure that it's one phrase that's really all modifying the word "splash." [Reads the poem again.] And that deepens the poem -- if people read. But, of course, many people don't. There's far more happening than is on the surface; and you have to read the poems over and over again; and you must say them aloud, if you want to understand the work: My poems are meant to be voiced -- all of them; and you won't get the layout of the poems without feeling that. I don't know when I start a poem what it's going to say: I have no idea. I'm always surprised...-- excerpted from Cid Corman with Philip Rowland: The Conversation Continues

FYI: For more about Cid Corman's view of translation, To the Lighthouse: The Art of Translation

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

A Room of My Own: Sundowning Haiku

Two Hundred and Twenty-Third Entry, Coronavirus Poetry Diary

sundowning
her masked face pressed against
the nursing home window

FYI: The term "sundowning" refers to a state of confusion occurring in the late afternoon and spanning into the night. Sundowning can cause a variety of behaviors, such as confusion, anxiety, aggression or ignoring directions. Sundowning can also lead to pacing or wandering.


Added: 

Here and There, the Separation

charred dumpsters
on the roads to Peace Square ...
a mosque
a synagogue and a church
clustered at the intersection

scribble of missile trails ...
on his blood-stained note
my voice will be
louder than it ever was 
while I fought on Gaza streets

FYI: Israel Launches Air Strikes on Gaza, a Month After the 11-Day War, The Quint, June 16


Added:

East Jerusalem, A NeverEnding Story?

a burst of crows
across the twilight sky
rumors of war

(French Translation and Commentary by Serge Tome

une volée de corbeaux
à travers le ciel crépusculaire
rumeurs de guerre

Commentary: Haïku d'atmosphère porté par la similitude entre les deux éléments. Le cri des corbeaux et leur couleur sont liés depuis des siècles aux désastres humains)

Go back to Gaza!
bits of this sultry night 
                                       breaking off

Death to Jews
spray-painted over Death to Arabs ...
predawn darkness

(French Translation and Commentary by Serge Tome

"Mort aux Juifs"
recouvert de "Mort aux Arabes".
l'obscurité avant l'aube

Commentary: Sujet difficile. Discours difficile que celui du haïku "à message".Celui-ci me semble réussi parce qu'il ne dit pas explicitement ce que l'auteur voudrait dire mais le laisse transparaître au travers de
l'élement présenté en association (partage de sèmes). A retenir pour les haïkus d'actualité et à message : ne jamais dire explicitement ce qu el'on veut dire)

Sunday, April 3, 2016

Hot News: Featured Haiku by Chen-ou Liu

Dear Readers:

I've recently received four pieces of good news, and I'm excited to share them with all of you to celebrate the 20th anniversary of National Poetry Month.

1) from Carole MacRury and Vicki McCullough, Anthology Editors:

... Your poem also inspired our title, Sailing into the Moon.  We found your poem poignant and relevant in the way it spoke to the fragile state of the flood of immigrants into Europe.

a paper boat
sailing into the moon ...
migrants on the shore

Back Cover Haiku, Sailing into the Moon: Haiku Canada Members' Anthology 2016

2) from Richard Gilbert, Ph.D, Faculty of Letters, Kumamoto University

Along with my colleague here in Kumamoto University, Kumamoto, Japan, we are planning to publish a textbook containing international haiku in English for teaching university-level English-language education. We would like to include your haiku shown below in the book... We look forward to international students studying English learning from your work and becoming more familiar with your poetry.

Silent Night
drifting in from the neighbors --
I relearn Chinese

Second Place, 2011 North Carolina Poetry Society Lyman Haiku Award
Pinesong, 2011

(Judge's Comment: This haiku contrasts two images: hazy holiday relaxation and the study of a difficult language. Perhaps relearning Chinese is a resolution for the New Year or perhaps not. A good haiku leaves something to the reader's imagination. Reading aloud the poem reveals the subtle link between its first two words and its last. The mixture of auditory and visual images makes this a prize-winning haiku)

im-mi-grant ...
the way English tastes
on my tongue

2nd Prize, 7th Kokako Haiku Competition 2014

(Judge's Comment: This one is a contrasting type of haiku, no less valid, as it references the writer's inner experience. The word "tastes," a metaphor, is an exemplar for how to use this trope in a haiku, that is, not far-fetched or complicated. With the writer we feel the buzz and hum of the tongue as it produces the unfamiliar phonemes, syllable by syllable).

3) from Sandip Chauhan, Editor

We are in the process of gathering verses for an anthology of haiku to be published in three languages (English, Punjabi, and Hindi), an international project aimed at spreading the varied forms of well-crafted haiku to places in the world that have less access to scholarly source material... The haiku below are translatable into Punjabi and Hindi, and would be good examples of authentic haiku.

snow on snow …
the depth of night
in this attic

Simply Haiku, 10:3, Spring/Summer 2013

last leaves
cling to a maple tree ...
another temp job

Whispers, December 2015

specks of dust
in the winter moonlight
a line of migrants

A Hundred Gourds, 5:1, December 2015

4) from Serge Tome, Tempslibres Editor

Below are the French translations of my haiku and some comments by Serge Tome:

first glimpse
of her mastectomy bra
winter rose

Runner-Up, 2015 Fifth Vladimir Devidé Haiku Award

premier essai
de son soutien-gorge de mastectomie
rose d'hiver

(Opposition brutale entre la douleur d'une telle opération et la douceur de la rose. Similitude aussi au niveau de la fragilité des deux être.Similitude aussi par la couleur rose qui s'impose même si on ne sait pas la couleur de la fleur. La rose en hiver est une survie, un espoir au coeur de la saison morte. C'est la Vie qui triomphe. Le froid de l'hiver est associé à la douleur et au froid des instruments de chirurgie)

offshoring jobs...
the last glow of sunset
at the horizon

A Handful of Stones, March 8, 2014

délocalisation des emplois ...
la dernière lueur du soleil couchant
à l'horizon

her black hair
veils our praying hands ...
hospice church at dusk

NeverEnding Story, May 4, 2015

ses cheveux noirs
voilent nos mains qui prient ...
église de l'hospice au crépuscule

hospice verandah ...
a girl opens her mouth
to spring rain

NeverEnding Story, May 4, 2015

véranda des spoins palliatifs ...
une jeune fille ouvre sa bouche
à la pluie de printemps

first kiss --
behind the bookshelf
her scent lingers

Modern Haiku, 45:3, Autumn 2014

premier baiser --
derrière l'étagère des livres
son odeur s'attarde

(Ce haïku d'atmosphère me fait penser à un poème de Kenneth Rexroth "Au pied du mont Sorrate".  C'est un haïku d'odeur. Il utilise aussi une technique du rappel du souvenir par l'odeur qui reste)

blind date
cobra tattoo rising
from her cleavage

Failed Haiku, 1:3, March 2016

premier rendez-vous
le cobra tatoué monte
de son décolleté

summer's end
my footprints in the sand
a little deeper

Wednesday Haiku, 226, February 10, 2016

fin d'été
mes empreintes dans le sable
un peu plus profondes

(Autre haïku sur la Réalité augmentée. Il note le fait que l'auteur est conscient d'un changement, parfois d'un tournant. Quelque chose s'est modifié mais l'auteur ne sait pas exactement dire quoi. Il enregistre cela au travers d'un changement dans sa perception de ce qui l'entoure et qui y est inconsciemment lié)

Updated, April 15:

Two more French translations of my haiku:

one by one
fireflies escape my glass jar...
starry night

Editor's First Choice Haiku, "Insects Haiku Thread," Sketchbook, 6:4, July/August 2011

(Editor's Comment: The narrator in this ku, possibly a child, has been collecting fireflies in a glass jar. What child has not participated in this activity on an early, twilight summer eve? Such an activity permits a close up inspection of these mysterious, luminescent creatures—an up close experience of the microcosm. Later, the narrator releases the fireflies, and one by one they escape their "glass" confinement returning to the larger world. They become indistinguishable in the clear night sky as as their tiny, glowing lights become intermixed with the canvas of the night sky filled with stars. The transformation of views is dramatic—moving from a microcosmic view to a macrocosmic view. It is this shift of view point that captures my attention. The child like act of capturing fireflies as specimens for display in a glass jar is commonplace, but allowing them to escape and mingle as points of light against the large canvas of a sky on a starry night leads one to speculate on the larger questions about life. What is life? Is there life in the vast and mostly unexplored, distant universe? Are the life forms of the "firefly", a "human", and a distant "star" related? What is the origin of life? These are large questions—all of which invade my mind upon reading Chen-ou Liu's interesting haiku?

Some readers may object to the selection of this haiku as a Choice example. Both "firefly" and "starry night" are commonly listed kigos—haijin purists will hastily point out that only one kigo should be used. Yet, the vastness of the questions that arise in my mind from reading Chen-ou Liu's haiku lead me to persist in this choice)

une par une
les lucioles s'échappent de mon bocal en verre...
nuit étoilée

(Haïku archetypal majeur. La Lumière dans la Nuit. Mais aussi la Lumière en opposition avec la Nuit. La Lumière qui s'élève. On trouve aussi une analogie (courante) entre lucioles et étoiles partageant les sèmes de points de lumière dans la nuit. Je en peux aussi m'empêcher de penser au mythe de Pandore avec la boîte contenant les maux qu'elle a la curiosité d'ouvrir. Ici cependant, les lucioles sont l'opposé des maux (car elles représentent la Lumière). Un haïku tout en contraste.)

the rice song
mother sang to me ...
first spring rain

Editors' Choice , The Heron's Nest, 17:4, December 2015

la chanson de rizière
que ma mère me chantait ...
première pluie de printemps


Updated, April 17

distant sirens
over the border bridge
a blood moon

Shortlist, 2015 Touchstone Award for Individual Poems

French Translation by Tempslibres Editor Serge Tome

sirènes distantes
sur le pont frontière
une lune de sang


Updated, April 29

Ten more French translations of my haiku:

prairie...
between heaven and earth
an eagle

prairie ...
entre le ciel et la terre
un aigle

her nose print
on the hospice window ..
a patch of sunlight

la marque de son nez
à la fenêtre des soins palliatifs ..
une tache de soleil

snow on snow …
the depth of night
in this attic

neige sur neige ...
l'épaisseur de la nuit
dans ce grenier

Gaza at twilight…
crying old tears
at a new funeral

Gaza au crépuscule ...
pleurant des vieilles larmes
à un nouvel enterrement

a crow’s cry ...
the winter sky darkens
into the prairie

le cri d'un corbeau ...
le ciel d'hiver s'assombrit
dans la prairie

a long line of cars
behind the hearse
migrating snow geese

une longue file de voitures
derrière le corbillard
passage des oies de neige

between cries
of neighbor's baby
symphony no. 9

entre les cris
du bébé du voisin
la 9ème symphonie

traveling
far away in thought ...
hospice window

voyageant
loin en pensée ...
fenêtre de soins palliatifs

harvest moon rising ...
a tremble
in the migrant's voice

montée de la lune des moissons ...
un tremblement
dans la voix du migrant

therapy session:
winter rain on the window
deepens the silence

session de thérapie:
la pluie d'hiver sur la fenêtre
creuse le silence


Updated, May 30

Three more French translations of my haiku:

night deepening
the office secretary adjusts
her low-cut top

la nuit s'avance
la secrétaire réajuste
son top décolleté

writing haiku ...
my wine glass fills
with sunlight

j'écris un haïku ...
mon verre à vin se remplit
de soleil

divorce talk
each sip of tea more bitter
than the last

discussion pour le divorce
chaque gorgée de thé plus amère
que la précédente


Updated, June 14th 

Seven more French translations of my haiku:

after-party
we blow out candles
to hear the stars

après la soirée
nous soufflons les bougies
pour écouter les étoiles

her hips
sway our debate on sex
summer heat

ses hanches
agitent notre conversation sur le sexe
chaleur d'été

the cold moon...
I recycle a dream
from my youth

la lune froide...
je recycle un rêve
de ma jeunesse

alone by candlelight
thinking of that spring we met
and another spring…

seul à la lumière d'unechandelle
je pense à ce printemps où nous nous sommes connus
et à un autre printemps...

spicy chicken …
this impulse to ask
if she's married

poulet épicé ...
cette pulsion pour demander
si elle est mariée

church graveyard
a cloud of crows hover
over stone angels

cimetière d'église
un nuage de corneilles plane
sur les anges de pierre

photoshopping
my wedding pictures
winter solstice

je photoshoppe
mes photos de mariage
solstice d'hiver


Updated, August 21

Three more French translations of my haiku and tanka

a butterfly
tattooed on her buttock
summer heat

un papillon
tatoué sur sa fesse
chaleur d'été

after surgery
both of us said nothing...
her red bra
in the corner of my mind
begins to change color

après la chirurgie
nous n'en parlons pas...
son soutien-gorge rouge
dans le coin de ma tête
commence à changer de couleur

a new moon --
mother's letter heavy
with voices from the past

une nouvelle lune --
la lettre de ma mère lourde
des voix du passé


Updated, September 13

Four more French translations of my haiku

faint pencil marks
on the wall --
her dead child's room

de légères marques de crayon
sur le mur --
la chambre de son enfant mort

(Comment by Serge Tome: Un léger détail qui dit tout. Pudeur des mots, tragique du contexte. On peut dire les choses sans les dire. A remarquer que le haïku bascule après la césure et même au dernier mot. Cette technique de suspens qui oblige à tenir le haïku entier en mémoire à court-terme est très efficace. Elle accroît ses chances de rappel)

the smell
of summer heat ...
roadkill

l'odeur
de la chaleur de l'été...
charogne de bord de route

foreclosure sign
in its shadow
a dollhouse

la pancarte de foreclosure
dans son ombre
une maison de poupée

one by one
frogs make holes in the pond ...
starry night

une par une
les grenouilles font des trous dans l'étang ...
nuit étoilée


Updated, September 24

Two more French translations of my haiku

a latch clicks
on the vacant house ...
winter solstice

un verrou claque
à la maison vide ...
solstice d'hiver

first day of spring
the lingering scent
of rare books

premier jour de printemps
l'odeur persistante
de livres rares


Updated, October 14:

fireworks show
the migrant speaks of the home
he left behind

feux d'artifices
le migrant parle de la maison
qu'il a du laisser


Updated, November 19:

distant gunshots ...
sunflower petals
fold into night

coups de feu distants ...
les pétales du tournesol
se ferment pour la nuit

midnight moon...
one long howl
and then no more

lune de minuit...
un long hurlement
et puis plus rien

the stare
of a newborn ...
starry night

le regard
d'un nouveau-né ...
nuit étoilée

the click
of her red high heels ...
divorce court

le cliquetis
de ses hauts talons rouges...
audience de divorce

her short life
packed in an urn
smell of winter

sa courte vie
tassée dans une urne
l'odeur de l'hiver

drifts of fog ...
first job interview
in one year

lambeaux de brouillard ...
première entrevue pour un emploi
en un an

another new grave
in winter mist
war cemetery

une nouvelle tombe
dans le brouillard de l'hiver
cimetière de guerre

Rated R --
the orgasm
of sudden rain

Rated-R : pour mineur accompagné.

sudden news
of her breastcancer...
I add
one more lump of sugar
to my morning coffee

des nouvelles inattendues
de son cancer du sein...
j'ajoute
un autre morceau de sucre
dans mon café du matin

yellow ball of yarn
in my mother’s hand
harvest moon

boule de laine jaune
dans la main de ma mère
lune des moissons

one year gone
on her side of the bed
winter moonlight

une année écoulée
sur sa partie du lit
le clair de lune d'hiver

the fog rolling
over the border town...
refugees walk
along train tracks
toward a blood moon

Le brouillard s'étend
sur la ville frontière...
des réfugiées marchent
le long des rails
vers une lune de sang

blind date
her face half revealed
in moonlight

premier rendez-vous
son visage à moitié dévoilé
par la lune

noonday heat
a white man staring at me
me staring back

chaleur de midi
un homme blanc me regarde
le regarder 


Updated, December 20:

first day
after retirement
the brush
is dipped deeper
in Chinese ink

premier jour
de ma pension
le pinceau
trempé plus loin
dans l'encre de Chine

writing haiku ...
my wine glass fills
with sunlight

écrire un haiku ...
mon verre de vin se remplie
de soleil


Updated, February 2017

the darkness
between winter stars ...
relapse

l'obscurité
entre les étoiles ...
rechute

Goodwill Window Sale
homeless man's reflection
and mine

Goodwill Window Sale
le reflet du sans abri
et le mien

the rail tracks
toward a harvest moon
thoughts of home

la voie ferrée
vers une lune des moissons
pensées de la maison

among mourners
this cloak of silence
between crows

avec le cortège funèbre
cette chape de silence
entre les corbeaux

a dried lotus leaf
in Tibetan Book of the Dead...
winter dusk

une feuille de lotus sèchée
dans le Livre des Morts tibétain
crépuscule d'hiver

her laugh echoes
through the empty house
the sound of snow

les échos de son rire
dans la maison vide
le son de la neige

(Comment by Serge Tome: Haïku meteo. L'auteur convoque la froideur, le silence, la blancheur (vide) de la neige afin de connoter l'atomsphère de ce haïku. Haïku de nostalgie. Les échos marquent le souvenir d'un temps passé. En peu de mots, on devine la fin d'un temps mais le manque d'informations précises marquent une indécision qui fait résonner ce haïku en nous au moment de la ranger en mémoire à long-terme. Et puis, la mécanique du rappel d'un souvenir face au Vide nous le fait nôtre)


Updated, May 10 2017

pinned butterfly ...
needle marks
on the girl’s left arm

papillon épinglé ...
des marques de piqûre
sur le bras gauche de la fille

"Now Hiring"
flaps in the winter wind ...
last rays of sunlight

"Nous embauchons"
claque dans le vent d'hiver ...
derniers rayons de soleil

faraway whistle
of the night train . . .
mother's lullaby

le sifflement lointain
d'un train de nuit . . .
berceuse de maman


Updated September 7, 2017

long way home ...
windshield wipers clear
the silence between us

longue route du retour ...
les essuies-glaces balayent
le silence entre nous

sourdough smell of age
the cold rain pattering
against motel windows

odeur de levain du temps
la pluie froide qui bat
contre les fenêtres de motel

the space
between etched names...
war cenotaph

l'espace
entre les noms gravés ...
monument aux morts

blood-red earth
pattering on his coffin
winter rain

terre rouge sang
elle crépite sur son cercueil
la pluie hivernale


Updated, October 23 2017

cherry blossom rain
laughter
chasing laughter

pluie de fleurs de cerisiers
un rire
chasse l'autre

moonlit pond ...
a frog jumps
from star to star

étang éclairé de lune ...
une grenouille saute
d'étoile en étoile


Updated, December 1, 2017

the clattering
of mahjong tiles ...
summer rain

le cliquetis
des tuiles de mahjong ...
pluie d'été

the end
of a chalk rainbow --
foreclosure sign

au bout
de l'arc-en-ciel à la craie --
l'affiche de foreclosure



Updated, May 22, 2018

starless night
a lantern boat sailing
out to sea

nuit sans étoiles
une lanterne de bateau
au large

sourdough smell of age
the cold rain pattering
against motel windows

l'odeur de levain du vieux
le crépitement de la pluie froide
contre les fenêtres du motel



Updated, June 18, 2018

breakup kiss ...
the line between sky
and winter sea

baiser de rupture ...
la ligne entre le ciel
et la mer d'hiver


french kissing
on the bridge with love locks
two pink-haired girls

French kiss
sur le pont avec des cadenas d'amour
deux filles aux cheveux roses

Commentary in French:

Haïku intéressant. Sa construction en juxtaposition d'éléments inattendus, la surprise à la fin, lesa sèmes du pont qui relie, des cadenas qui scellent lui donne sa force. Mais c'est surtout pour moi la fin avec le point de couleur vive qui le fait résonner longtemps.


Updated, October 20 2018

wolf moon
a stranger's smell
on her body

lune du loup
l'odeur d'un étranger
sur son corps

Commentary in French

La force de ce haïku réside dans les images fortes d'animalité (loup,odeur de chair). On perçoit une férocité animale à fleur de peau.Juxtaposition réussite, une parfaite adéquation entre les deux segments du haïku.



Updated, December 22 2018

street corner at dusk ...
a middle-aged man wrapped
in last week's news

coin de rue au crépuscule ....
un homme d'âge mûr enveloppé
dans les nouvelles de la semaine dernière


Updated, January 5 2019

the flicker
of a vigil candle
year's end

le scintillement
d'une bougie de veillée.
fin d'année



Updated, February 11 2019

motel night
alone with the moans
of winter wind

nuit de motel
seul avec les gémissements
du vent d'hiver

"I used to be ..."
at the corners of his mouth
saliva stains

"avant, j'étais ..."
aux commissures de sa bouche
des tâches de salive



Updated, March 7 2019

in and out
of the confessional
winter light

dedans et dehors
du confessional
lumière d'hiver

Un haïku très riche en discours profonds. Plusieurs possibilités laissées à la liberté du lecteur. On peut remarquera aussi qu'un discours de protestation peut être présent sous le discours neutre de surface. Le message est alors au niveau profond, suggéré par le discours de surface au travers d'un partage des sèmes.
 
 

Note: My haiku and tanka have been translated into 15 different languages. You can read my poems and the translations here.

Monday, May 4, 2015

A Room of My Own: Life and Death

hospice veranda ...
a girl opens her mouth
to spring rain

(French Translation by Serge Tome, Tempslibres Editor

véranda des spoins palliatifs ...
une jeune fille ouvre sa bouche
à la pluie de printemps)


her black hair
veils our praying hands ...
hospice church at dusk

( French Translation by Serge Tome, Tempslibres Editor

ses cheveux noirs
voilent nos mains qui prient ...
église de l'hospice au crépuscule)

Sunday, June 29, 2014

To the Lighthouse: The Art of Translation

                                                                                                        scent of sunlight ...
                                                                                                        the tattered edges
                                                                                                       of One Man's Moon
                                                                                                       (for Cid Corman)

For me words have color, form, character; they have faces, ports, manners, gesticulations; they are mood, humors, eccentricities; -- they have tints, tones, personalities …

-- Cid Corman, At Their Word, 156


Part I: Jon LaCure's Review of One Man's Moon

On the title page of both this book [One Man’s Moon: Poems by Basho & Other Japanese Poets, English translation by Cid Corman] and the earlier edition the author statement is: “Versions by Cid Corman.” There is nothing in the introduction to indicate why Corman uses “versions” rather than “translations” to describe his book. Perhaps he intends to produce his own “poems” in English that take their inspiration from the Japanese rather than producing a technically accurate translation.

“For me words have color, form, character; they have faces, ports, manners, gesticulations; they are mood, humors, eccentricities;—they have tints, tones, personalities …” (Corman, At Their Word, 156). A sense of this comes through in Corman’s translations in this volume.

An example is the second poem by Basho that Corman translates. His version reads:

Morning-dewed                         asatsuyu ni
streaked cool                            yogorete suzushi
muddy melon.                           uri no doro

[Editor's Note: another translation by Makoto Ueda,  Basho and His Interpreters: Selected Hokku with Commentary, p.388

in the morning dew
spotted with mud, and how cool --
melons on the soil]

There are actually three versions of this haiku by Basho. The Japanese that I have supplied above is from the last version found in Oi nikki (“The Satchel Diary”). I am guessing that Corman may have used this version because of the word “muddy.” The two earlier versions end with the word tsuchi or “soil” (Imoto, 257). The grammar of the poem is relatively simple. “Covered with morning dew, mud on a cool melon.”

Corman’s translation is remarkable for the economy of words. It is a line-by-line and practically word-for-word translation. This kind of translation makes for fractured English grammar. “Morning-dewed,” and “streaked cool” both modify melon. The sound of the poem is also worth noting with multiple words beginning with “m.” Overall this seems a somewhat eccentric but very pleasant and effective translation of what most commentators agree is a simple descriptive poem.

-- reviewed by Jon LaCure (Modern Haiku, 35:1, Spring 2004)

most commentators agree [that it] is a simple descriptive poem.

Like most commentators, Jon LaCure missed one key phrase, "streaked cool/how cool," in the above-mentioned haiku by Basho.This "simple descriptive poem," which shows Basho's art in its maturity, asks the reader to exercise some poetic imagination and see that "melons look appealing precisely because they are spotted with mud. Clean melons are a common sight, with no appeal to the imagination." (Ueda, p. 388). This "misreading" of Basho's haiku reminds me of one of the insightful remarks by Cid Corman:

Each word is a matter of life and death.


Part II: Cid Corman with Philip Rowland: The Conversation Continues

ROWLAND: Coming back to the Japanese context, I was reading recently in a few of your books published by Gnomon Press, translations of haiku mostly by the old masters. [One Man's Moon, 1984; Born of a Dream, 1988; Little Enough, 1991.] You call them "versions": it says on the front of the books, "Versions by Cid Corman." I wondered whether your choice of word there indicates an attitude to translation, an individualistic approach, or --

CORMAN: I have no rules in translating, so... I've done a lot of translation -- am still doing -- from the ancient Chinese. Every time I do a translation I do it in a different way, so I don't have any one way of doing. And I've done some of the Basho in many different versions. There are two versions of many of the poems in my... Oku no Hosomichi has been reprinted a number of times; and the one that White Pine Press did has different versions of the poem -- many of them. But the newest version, that Ecco Press did, more recently, a couple of years ago [1996], goes back to my original version. OK with me -- both versions are OK. But different ways of working the stuff. I'm trying to get -- not to add words, but to keep to the minimal structure of haiku, usually (where haiku is concerned). I've done Chinese translations different from anybody else: I follow the exact syllabic structure of the Chinese, in many of the versions -- not always -- but I indicated in one way or another in any event, because usually it's in very rigorous form, Chinese poetry, the ancient Chinese stuff.

ROWLAND: In what other ways would you say your translations of Chinese or Japanese are different from most others?

CORMAN: So this one here is, what is it, Issa, I think. I've done many versions of this particular piece: "a dewdrop world ay / a dewdrop world but even / so -- but even so"

ROWLAND: Can you remember another version?

CORMAN: I'd have to look. Not so different: just a few word-placements different. But some of the poems... So now, my version of the famous frog poem is:

            THE
            old pond
                                       frog leaping
                           splash

It's nicer, because you don't need so many words, you don't need so many syllables to say; but it's word for word the Japanese. But I also point out by the structure that it's one phrase that's really all modifying the word "splash." [Reads the poem again.] And that deepens the poem -- if people read. But, of course, many people don't. There's far more happening than is on the surface; and you have to read the poems over and over again; and you must say them aloud, if you want to understand the work: My poems are meant to be voiced -- all of them; and you won't get the layout of the poems without feeling that. I don't know when I start a poem what it's going to say: I have no idea. I'm always surprised...

Friday, September 20, 2013

Cool Announcement: Robert Hass on Haiku and Czeslaw Milosz

My Dear Fellow Poets/Readers:

In this Literature &Lunch event held by The Center for the Art of Translation,  HEAR Pulitzer Prize-winner and former U.S. Poet Laureate Robert Hass discuss his translations of Japanese haiku and Czeslaw Milosz. From Basho to Buson, Hass has created fresh, new translations of some of the most celebrated verses from Japan's centuries-old haiku tradition. Here he discusses his difficulties with learning Japanese, as well as the stories behind some of Japan's most intriguing poems. -- excerpted from The Center for the Art of Translation.

Hass recites and comments on the following haiku:

This road --
no one goes down it,
autumn evening.

Harvest moon --
walking around the pond
all night long.

Fleas, lice,
a horse peeing
near my pillow.

Basho


Coolness --
the sound of the bell
as it leaves the bell.

That snail --
one long horn, one short,
what's on his mind?

Buson


The man pulling radishes
pointed my way
with a radish.

A bath when you're born,
a bath when you die,
how stupid.

Issa

Hass also discusses and reads from his translations of his close personal friend, the Nobel-winning poet Czeslaw Milosz.  See The Age of Czeslaw Milosz (well-made and informative trailer).

Chen-ou


Note:  Czeslaw Milosz once made a poetic commentary on Issa's haiku; it was written in the form of a free verse, titled "Reading the Japanese Poet Issa (1762–1826)."  This poem is the last one in The Separate Notebooks, and it contains within it three haiku by Issa. For more information, see Poetic Musings: Czesław Miłosz's Reading the Japanese Poet Issa (1762–1826)


Updated, September 21

Excerpted from Sounding Lines:The Art of Translating Poetry by Seamus Heaney and Robert Hass

Audience Comment: Are you saying “don’t Lowellize”? Is that what you’re saying?

In the versions of haiku that I did—another language that I don’t know— I made a point of making sure that I understood the word-for-word meaning of each poem I was dealing with and I made some choices to play loosely with things because I was raiding. I didn’t publish them for years, and when I did I called them versions of Basho, Buson and Issa.—though I tried to read as much scholarship as I could and in some cases be as literal as I could. But sometimes it wasn’t what I wanted, what I saw and was trying to bring over. I wasn’t trying to do scholarly translations.

Robert Lowell published this book called Imitations in which he would basically start with a well-known European poem and kind of take off on it. Stay in it, wander away from it, come back, as Ben Johnson did. Nabokov was outraged with one of Lowell’s translations and said, “How would you feel if someone took your phrase ‘leathery love’ and translated it into Russian as ‘the great football of passion’?” [laughter] ...

.....

Robert Hass: I was working on a little haiku by Basho that occurs in one of his travel journals, and, in the translations I had seen, I had not been particularly attracted to the poem. It went something like “Ah the Rose of Sharon at the road’s edge eaten by horse.” And I thought, “Oh this is one of those the-crude-horse-eats-the-beautiful-Rose-of-Sharon, woe for the passing of things” poems. I looked at the word-for-word translation of the Japanese and it was very swift and there was something there. He’s not a moralizing poet. One day I decided to go over to the botanical library and look up Rose of Sharon. And it turned out it was a wild hibiscus. And then I went out of the Japanese section into the California section to see if there were any wild hibiscus in California, and there is one, and its early folk name was “flower-of-an-hour,” because it blooms very briefly and closes as soon as it is not in sunlight. So I came back, went to sleep, woke up and looked again and did a completely literal translation adding one word that wasn’t there: “As for the hibiscus by the roadside my horse ate it.” I saw what the poem was about. The “my horse” was possible because it was in a travel journal—you know he is on horseback. He doesn’t say it in the poem. But sometimes, just for what you want, for what I want—which is “am I getting closer to Basho’s mind, is this a fantasy that I am?”—you take chances. There is a famous story about Ezra Pound’s Cathay and this poem “The River Merchant’s Wife: A Letter.” He got a gloss on it from an American in Japan named Ernest Fenollosa, who got it from a Japanese scholar who had translated the original poem by Li Po into Japanese. Fenollosa then translated his Japanese into English for Pound. And Pound made “The River Merchant’s Wife: A Letter.” And when Pound was writing that poem, he intuitively, changing the poem to get it right for himself as a poem, corrected several mistakes made by the guy translating it from Chinese into Japanese. It gives youdangerous faith in intuition, that the poem will somehow tell you what it’s about.

Seamus Heaney: That’s terrific. Say the one, my favorite, the one about the farmer with the radishes.

Robert Hass: Oh yes. Sometimes you think “oh I get this because...” This poem I thought I got because it is like something out of Dickens. It’s by Issa and it goes: “The man pulling radishes pointed my way with a radish.” Those long skinny daikon radishes. But it is about someone mulling over, a walker mulling over an experience afterwards. That is really the center of the poem, past tense. It’s about how everything is subsumed to its element. “The man pulling radishes pointed my way with a radish.”