Ricochet Review Translations Issue 3

Volume 3 RiRciocchoecthet Review Translation Issue Spring 2015



Ricochet Review



Ricochet Review Volume 3 Spring 2015

Ricochet Review is published through Von Steuben Metropolitan Science Center, 5039 N. Kimball Ave., Chicago, IL 60625. Copyright © 2015 by Ricochet Review ISSN: 2328-8566 ACKNOWLEDGMENTSSpecial thanks to Laura Lemone, Principal of Von Steuben MSC; Jennifer Sutton, Vice Principal of Von Steuben MSC; Christo-pher Burney; Barry Kafka; Eliot Kafka; Heidi Kafka; Luz Castro,Brad Rossi; Pablo Lopez; Larry Waites; Mary Cortes; Suzie Kwan;Carmen Rodriguez; Lucy Rodriguez; Russ Elliot; Dalia Hoffman; BookMobile. Cover Art, Design, and Layout: Yasmeen Alzate Printer: BookMobile Ricochet Review is available for $10.00 Website: ricochetreview.wordpress.com

MANAGING EDITOR Maria De Leon POETRY EDITOR Marti Rosen ASSISTANT EDITORS Erika Anderson Darius Vinesar Cynthia Aguilar INTERNS Gabriel Aco Gianna Andujar Sara RodriguezWEB MANAGEMENT AND DESIGN Yasmeen Alzate WEBSITE EDITOR AND PR Josalyn Knapic GUEST ADVISOR Naomi Washer DESIGN AND LAYOUT ADVISOR Barry Kafka FACULTY ADVISOR Maja Teref EDITORIAL ADVISOR Steven Teref

CONTENTSLetter from the EditorsAnne Penders Extrait De L’envers From The ReverseCarla Leclercq Translator’s ReflectionAnne Penders De Chine Of China “La neige” “The snow”Nora Klein and Translators’ ReflectionKarolina UsaviciuteNitya Viswanath Teacher’s ReflectionErika Anderson [ Interlude: Gravity and Status ]Jasmina Topić Šaputanje WhisperingMarcus Mrdak Translator’s ReflectionAsim Bajramović Kad svi te ostave When Everyone Leaves YouLejla Alibašić Translator’s Reflection

Saudin Sado Bečirević From Bore oko ociju From Crow’s FeetAmina Bečirević Haunted, Hunted (Variation on a Theme) Translator’s ReflectionAna Ristović Колумбија ColombiaMaja Teref Master Translator’s ReflectionKirsten Guerrero [ Interlude: Time ]George Bacovia Dimineata MorningDarius Vinesar Translator’s ReflectionMaria De Leon [ Interlude: Lilies ]Liu Nian TITLE The RuinRemi Oyeleye Translator’s ReflectionRuss Elliot Teacher’s ReflectionErika Anderson [ Interlude: The Great Waves of Kana-gawa ]Benilda Santos Ang Sabi Ko Sa Iyo What I Told YouGabriel Aco Translator’s Reflection

Marti Rosen [ Interlude: Oohhh… Alright ]Yusuf Shazad ‫نشور لد ایک‬،‫ک یمدا ره وهوج‬ Enlightened HeartAymann Shaikh Translator’s ReflectionKirsten Guerrero [ Interlude: Stilled ]Santiago Vizcaíno La Agua Parda The Murky WaterKrystle Oehlberg Translator’s ReflectionAnonymous POEM “Our royal highness” POEM “We invite the Buddha” POEM “Our majesty”Naomi Washer Master Translator’s ReflectionEliot Kafka [ Interlude: Termination ]Maria Margareta Österholm From Unga Fs Bekännelser From The Confessions of YoungF.Erika Anderson Translator’s ReflectionAase Berg I Marsvingrottan In the Guinea Pig Cave

Johannes Göransson Master Translator’s ReflectionRemi Oyeleye [ Interlude: Oh What Joy! ]Benilda Santos Ang Lalaking Ahas The Snake-ManMaria De Leon Translator’s ReflectionAngela Narciso Torres Master Translator’s ReflectionCynthia Aguilar [ Interlude: Rising ]Tuvya Ruebner ‫העתיק הגשם פניךל‬Before You the RainMarti Rosen Translator’s ReflectionContributorsCall for Submissions

LETTER FROM THE EDITORSRicochet Review’s mission lies in its name. Its premise began withestablished poets mentoring high school poets. For the current issueon translation, we have expanded the concept while keeping true toits roots. The reader will notice established translators mentoringnovices, such as renowned translator Johannes Göransson workingwith Erika Anderson. In addition, high school language teachershave mentored their students, such as Nitya Viswanath mentoringher students Carla Leclercq, Nora Klein, and Karolina Usaviciute.As with past issues, the interludes serve as dividers grouping part-nerships or translations. The interludes, in keeping with the theme,comprise an assortment of faux translations. Some interludes chan-nel poems through a chain of languages via online translation web-sites such as Google Translate or Babelfish with strange and won-drous results. Others are ekphrastic, poems inspired by paintings.As for the translations proper, they draw on a cornucopia of sourcelanguages: French, Bosnian, Serbian, Hebrew, Swedish, Spanish,Mandarin, Urdu, and Tagalog.

Ricochet Review

Extrait DE L’ENVERS Anne PendersAujourd’hui.L’envers de la pluie, ce serait :retrousser ses manches, apprendre à dire au revoir.Tout ce qui s’achève promet — de beaux jours à l’oubli.–––––L’envers n’est pas linéaire.Il a sa propre révolution.Au besoin, il hausse le ton/tour.Au besoin, il rompt sa progression.Fige le geste qui le porte, pousse la porte, contourne l’obstacle.L’envers concentre la force de l’immobile — centrifuge être subtile.Éclat de ciel en tous points lumineux.Sa révolution ne conduit pas la guerre.Elle la pressent, elle l’étourdit.[dévie sa trajectoire, ne rate pas sa cible]En orbite / elle voudrait.D’un lieu phare, un hameau.D’un repère, tout un troupeau.D’une circulaire, un rythme / pas une formalité.[certains mots mériteraient d’être déracinés] — parfois, le sensmultiple estropie la langue.

From THE REVERSE Anne PendersTodayThe opposite of rain, would be:To pull up your sleeves, to learn to say goodbyeEverything that ends promises– good days forgotten.–––––Backwards is not linear.It has its own revolution.If needed, it raises his voice.If needed, it stops progressing.Freeze the gesture that carries it along, push the door, turn around the obstacle.The reverse focuses the force of immobility —centrifuge being subtle.Gleam in all luminous points.Its revolution does not steer the war.It senses it, it dazes it.[Strays off course, doesn’t miss its target]In orbit / it would like.From an essential place, a small village.From a landmark, all the herd.From a circular, a rhythm/ not a formality.[Some words would deserve to be uprooted]— sometimes, multiple meanings cripple language. Translated from the French by Carla Leclercq

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Carla Leclercq TRANSLATOR’S REFLECTIONI enjoyed translating from L’envers, a marvelous French poem byAnne Penders, although the process was difficult. L’envers was verycomplex and I reflected on its meaning for a while. Having to read ashort sentence three or four times before understanding the mean-ing was new to me. Some lines left me puzzled even after rereadingthem countless times. Though the experience was tedious, frustrat-ing, and mindboggling, I improved my French comprehension skillsand have learned to appreciate the editing process in its entirety.

Anne PendersDE CHINEFévrierLe geste. Le geste d’Asie. Cette parole en soi.Un rythme.Quand le geste change, peut-on pour autant parler d’assimilation?Qu’est-ce qui, du geste, intègre?Qu’est-ce qui, de lui, n’oublie jamais?

Anne PendersOF CHINAFebruaryThe movement. The movement of Asia. This word within oneself.A rhythm.When the movement changes, can someone regardless speak ofassimilation?Who, from the movement, integrates?Who, of himself, never forgets? Translated from the French by Nora Klein and Karolina Usaviciute

Anne Penders“La neige”La neige.Illusion de ce qui apaise.Un cocon de froid.La résurgence / ces jeux où l’on crie.

Anne Penders“The snow”The snow.Illusion of the thing that calms, appeases.A cocoon of cold.The resurgence / these games where one screams. Translated from the French by Nora Klein and Karolina Usaviciute

Nora Klein and Karolina Usaviciute TRANSLATORS’ REFLECTIONTranslating Anne Penders’ poems was definitely the most stimulatingexperience we’ve had. Learning French in class is very basic and doesnot always deal with creative writing and emotions. Translating a poemthat evokes emotions draws on new levels, layering our knowledge ofthe French language. Through trial and error we learned how emo-tions are translated between languages. We also learned that emotionsare uniquely conveyed from one language to another. Overall, beingable to apply our beginner French knowledge to advanced native po-etry has been a useful learning experience in furthering our French.

Nitya Viswanath TEACHER’S REFLECTIONI’d like to take a few moments here to reflect on the experienceof working on translation with my students for this issue ofRicochet Review. Not having had translation experience my-self other than a few personal requests, I took on this experiencewith the hopes of learning about a new language-oriented career.We definitely went through highs and lows while engaged in thisproject. The process of researching poets was thoroughly fascinat-ing, and this process connected me with the three students I men-tored. We poured over excerpts, shared ideas, and talked about po-ems in French. We found two great challenges. First, we had troublefinding excerpts of poems longer than two lines. We were ready tospend a lot of money purchasing books from France and the French-speaking world when we finally came upon the excerpts written byAnne Penders. This process of searching gave us perspective interms of what types of poetry is available from the French-speakingworld. I took note of a couple of Antillaises who are writing po-etry that I would like to check out, whose books I will be happy topurchase if it means supporting artists from that part of the world!Our second challenge was in reaching the editors and poets of theexcerpts that we were able to find. We went ahead and started trans-lated Anne’s work when I remembered that we hadn’t contacted anyof the journals that had published her works. We were lucky whenthe editor of this journal immediately emailed Anne’s address to us!

Nitya Viswanath TEACHER’S REFLECTIONThe actual process of translating was an enjoyable challenge. Think-ing about the multiple meanings of words and examining the pur-pose of every word was profoundly engaging. It helped me to thinkabout the poem from the poet’s perspective- every word beingplaced with intention, we mined each word in the poem to inferthe poet’s nuanced message. Also, Anne offered us a few to focusour search for appropriate word choice. Luckily for us, Anne wishescontinue our work with her because she loved the idea of havingstudents learn about translations and helping them in the process.What an eye-opening and rewarding experience! We learnedabout a poet and now have a contact for future proj-ects. I was delighted that my students were engaged in lan-guage and word usage. This is a project that bonded us andin which we can hopefully engage once again in the future.

Erika Anderson [ INTERLUDE: Gravity and Status ]I’m sorry you lovewords like wet fingerspromised me.The alluring void devours.A choking cell.An attraction cannotcrash repulsion.Clash.A stallion lashesmy wordswith its tail.I do not want themI do not wantto conformto revealthe intimacy ofwater spillinginto a cup.

Jasmina TopićŠAPUTANJEŠta je svitalo mesecima? Pukotina ružičasta krozkoju je najzad sevnulo sunce? I stotine trnacaprotutnjalo duž tela! – Mislim o tome dok sedimna pesku, ulazim u vodu. U šaputanje. Nikad višeerotična lirska ekspresija, nikada slabija rima,odgovori, njihova estetika. Zagledana u toiščekivanje, svitanje, simbol višemesečnihznačajnih šaputanja. Lajtmotiv. Prati me.To su ti snovi koji hoće da izađu iz polja spavanja,kao da će odjednom postati stvarni.Tako i mislim: nikada se ne skloniti sa sunca ili,ne izaći iz vode, ne otići nazad u sobu u kojoj se lomesenke sa snovima, u kojoj se dugo šapuće...Mmmm, uzmi... U sobi svaka fantazija oživljavana način neshvatljivo nedorađen. Lepi se za kožuiza neočekivane granice. To je platno na kojepokušavaš da prilepiš, ne čak ni zvezde, već onošto je preostalo, i buniš se što im, najzad,nema mesta... u šaputanju. Onda i iz šaptaja –više sliče uzdahu – pobegnu želje, i ostane soba.Naelektrisana... prazna. I ko kuca na vrata, kao dabez glasa izgovara: trpeza, je li postavljena?!Tela koja fantaziraju uplaši svetlost...Šta je svitalo mesecima? Nije li kroz tu pukotinusevnulo sunce? I da jeste, ko bi još uvek umeo da gaprepozna? – Eto je, ta fantazija, živa i na javi!Ulazim u vodu, tako odlučno kao da ću plivati

Jasmina TopićWHISPERINGWhat dawns for months? A leaking pink fissureflashes the sun? Hundreds of prickscourse along the body! - I think about this as I siton the sand, wading into the water. Into the whispering. Neveragainan erotic lyrical expression, never a weak rhyme,answer their aesthetics. Peering withanticipation, sunrise, the symbol of several months ofpowerful whispers. The leitmotif. Follow me.These are the dreams from the fields of sleep,suddenly real.So I think: never take shelter from the sun or,Never leave the water, never return to the room whereshadows break dreams, where the long whisperings ...Mmmm, take it... In the room every fantasy aliveIn a completeness incomprehensible. Adheres to the skinbehind the unknown boundary.You paste, not the stars, but whatremains, and you objectNo place ... in the whispering. Then from the whispers –like a sigh – escape desires, and all that remains in the room.Charged ... empty. And who knocks on the door, as ifa voice asks: is the table set?!The bodies, hiding from the light, fantasize...What dawned for months? Is it not through the crackthe sun broke? If so, who wouldRecognize it? - is this fantasy, alive and awake!

Zavibrira moblini telefon u 1 i 13 posle ponoći.Upravo tu, dok duva noćna košava, možemodočekati i kraj – pepeo i prašinu grada. A i sveta!

Recognize it? - is this fantasy, alive and awake!I enter the water, determined to swimto the mouth of the greatest sea. Traces of scaleson the skin remain, like the dust from the fantasy.I hop on the street carto the city. I hurry, to talk to you,the poem.Return to the room...A cell phone vibrates at 1:13 in the morning.It is here, the blowing night wind, we canwait for the end - ashes and dust of the city, and the world! Translated from the Serbian by Marcus Mrdak

Marcus Mrdak TRANSLATOR’S REFLECTIONThe translation of the poem Whispering by Jasmina Topić hasbeen quite the experience. While it was compelling, it did have itsups and downs. Translating the poem should have been simple,right? I thought I would punch it into Google and bam job done.I thought the translation couldn’t be THAT rough? It was awful.Step two was a new translation. So, naturally, I decided to take thepoem to someone who could actually translate Serbian to English.After about an hour I took my newly hand-translated poem hometo look at it. It still made absolutely no sense to me. It felt like achild found the copy-and-paste keys and started pasting words ev-erywhere. So that took me to the production of my first (of many)drafts, or step three. This is where I took my Google translated ver-sion of the poem and made corrections using my hand-translatedcopy. The only problem was I wrote more essay style rather thanmore poetic so it sounded robotic, almost like twisted Shakespear-ean play. Draft two was my most edited draft, as I had to get ridof unnecessary words and even sentences to lose the stilted writ-ing. From then on, every draft I composed (there are currently sixnext to me, though I’m pretty sure I lost a few) was corrected –small things such as word placement, phrasing, and other small edits.

Cynthia Aguilar[ INTERLUDE: Rising ]The spectral hoversnearly brushes thepaling groundthen crumbles.

Asim BajramovićKAD SVI TE OSTAVEI ondakad svi te ostave,kad nikone pita za tebe,kad snovitugu donesu,sjeti se- ja sam negdje tu.I prijateljakad ne bude,ja opet bićukraj tebe,umoran, možda,pomalo snen- da ti suzu obrišem.Kad svi leda ti okrenuime tineće da spomenu,kad snovitugu donesu- poćemo skupa u BosnuKada tesreća napusti,kada ne bude radosti,

Asim BajramovićWHEN EVERYONE LEAVES YOUAnd thenwhen everyone leaves you,when no oneasks for you,when dreamsbring sorrowremember- I’m somewhere there.And when you don’t havea friendI’ll still benext to you,tired, perhaps,somewhat sleepy- to wipe your tear.When allturn their back,your namethey will not mention,when dreamsbring sadness- together we’ll go to Bosnia

pa ja ćuopet biti tu,da te upitam- kako si?Da suznooko obrišem,da usne tipomirišem,i pjesmuda ti zapjevam- onako kako ja to znam.

Whenthe luck leaves you,when there is no joy,I willagain be there,to wonder-how are you?Your weeping eyeto wipe,your lips tosmell,and to singyou a song- in a way I only know. Translated from the Bosnian by Lejla Alibašić

Lejla Alibašić TRANSLATOR’S REFLECTIONMy experience in translating a Bosnian poem for Ricochet Reviewwas very positive. At first, I wasn’t sure where to start. There are somany poems out there, and I wasn’t sure which would be a goodone to share. Eventually, after some researching, I found a book thatwas a collection of poems, and decided to look there for a poem.The book had great poems, many that I was unfamiliar with. Thepoems were very interesting to me and I enjoyed reading them, andI probably wouldn’t have come across them if it weren’t for thisproject. Even though the process of picking the poems was fun,my favorite part of the entire project was translating, because it wasinteresting to see how the poem sounded in English, and mixingsome of the words around in order for it to make more sense waslike putting a puzzle together. This experience was a great way forme to preserve my culture and share it with other people as well.

Kirsten Guerrero[ INTERLUDE: Time ]time passes as water flowsbuilding a dam of memoriesthat couldn’t hold reasonI again look beyond the horizon

Saudin Sado Bečirević From BORE OKO OCIJUOstario sam za ovih godinu dana. Izgubio sam sebe vec odavno.Sad je kasno da bih pokusao traziti nesto vise od zivota. Jednostav-no sam izrastao u paklenu masinu. Masinu koja melje sve predsobom, bez osjecaja. Pred sobom vidim samo tamu, koja me vecdugo prati. Gdje god da se pojavim, iza mene ostaje smrt. Rijetkisu trenuci kad ja nekome donesem osmijeh na lice. Smrt; da, to jeto – ja sam postao radnik u sluzbi smrti. One iste koja ceka da i japostanem visak, da bi me tiho izvuci iz svega ovoga. Cetnik je lezaona livadi, nikog nije bilo da dode po njega. Nakon petnaest minutaculi smo rad tenka. Nekoliko minuta poslije poceo je pucati, iz-medu borova, s brda preko puta nas. Zavukli smo se u rov I vristaliod srece. Slavili smo uspjesan pogodak, pjevali smo:Mama, ubio sam cetnika,S kokardom na glavi, sad sijela brigade slavi.

Saudin Sado Bečirević From CROW’S FEETI have aged this past year. I had lost myself long ago. Asking forsomething more than life was too late. I had simply grown into ahell machine; a machine that grinds everything before itself ruth-less. Before me I am facing a mere darkness, my only companion.Wherever I am, death follows. Rarely was I able to put a smile onsomebody’s face. Death; yes, that’s what it is- I had become a sol-ider in a deaths pawn waiting my ending to quietly embrace me. Ithink death is my only friend, my only savior. A chetnik was lying inthe meadow abandoned and fifteen minutes later a tank rumbled.Soon enough, it fired amongst the fir tree from the hill oppositeus. We ducked into the trench and screamed with happiness. Wecelebrated a successful shot, we cheered; mom, we killed a chetnik,with the insignia affixed to his head, now the whole brigade wascelebrating. Translated from the Bosnian by Amina Bečirević

Amina BečirevićHAUNTED, HUNTED (Variation on a Theme)Aged.Lost. Long ago.I am a howling hell machine.Darkness, my only companion… haunts, hunts.Rare smiles.Death’s pawn, death’s embrace.My friend, my savior –smrt.A lying chetnik, a rumbling tankFires from a fir tree.Duck, trench, scream… HAPPINESS.Killed a chetnik, KILLED A CHETNIK, KILLED A CHETNIK!!!Insignia affixed to his cap.

Amina Bečirević TRANSLATOR’S REFLECTIONIt all started the day I asked Mrs. Philyaw if she was able to helpme translate my uncle’s book and she told me, “You should askMrs. Teref; she is a part of Ricochet Review which is a translatinggroup, so she’ll be able to help you.” The next day during my 4thperiod lunch I went to Mrs. Teref ’s classroom and told her that Iwas looking for somebody to help me translate the book and hermouth dropped. Excitedly she said, “I would love to help you!!”She started handing me a whole bunch of worksheets and explain-ing to me what to do with them. Together, we read a couple ofpages from the book and she told me to find a meaningful sec-tion that I favored a lot. That evening when I got home I beganto search for the part I would translate and as soon as I began totranslate, I realized that it was not what I expected. Many chal-lenging factors I discovered were using correct grammar, sentencestructure and identifying unknown words. Though translatingmy part was quite difficult not once did it give me the feeling of“wow I can’t do this anymore”; it gave me the feeling of “I wantto keep doing this”. With my translated paragraph I went intoMrs. Teref ’s room to edit the first draft with her. While editingshe taught me that translating is not giving the exact meaning ofthat word in English, but translating is trying to develop the mostcorrect meaning to the author’s thoughts and feelings. We spentover ten minutes editing one sentence. My favorite thing abouther is how passionate she is with her job, almost as if it is not herjob but her hobby. She speaks with the emotions on how she isfeeling and that influenced me to translate with feelings. It showedme that if I want to translate my uncle’s book with all the best Ihave within me, I have to ask myself why did he write this; what

Amina Bečirevićaffect is trying to make the reader feel. Which also means I have totake my time and I cannot rush to finish. There was this word wewere trying to find the meaning of in English and we spent overtwenty minutes searching for the meaning. We called her husbandand even my mom. We eventually got the word from my mother. Itwas the word šubara which is translated to a wool hat that chetnikswore. This experience showed me that taking the time to figureout something is not a waste of time because no matter how longit takes, it will be your best. When we began to turn my translationinto a poem, we decided to start with brainstorming. Taking mainideas from sentences and finding the correct word for the mean-ing of the whole sentence. We ended up with single words, but thetrick was reading the poem with emotions. What I mean by readingthe poem with emotions was giving the reader an effect on what wewere trying to say with the way we spoke: loudly and aggressively.Reading my poem gave off a different affect when we read it withemotion than when we didn’t. It gave me the realization that I haveto put myself in the author’s shoes to really define the literal andcorrect meaning of what they are trying to say. This experience hasbeen a great one; it was a lot different than what I expected thissituation to be and I cannot wait to see how it will all turn out.



Ana RistovićКОЛУМБИЈАИзађеш на улицу, кадвелики об лак стоји пред тобому равни ти чела, толико близу да могли бистеда потапшете један другог по рамену,и ти и облак, изненада, попричате о свемуОблак велики као атомска печуркаа бео као памук најпамучнијиодлебдео са оних тамо пољаЗакорачишУђеш у његаИ, одједном, нема теЧак те ни андски кондорвидео нијеДок одасвуд одјекује песма колумбијске децекоја рецитују поезију за одрасле, ону, о срцу,о души што увек залута негде па се никад не вратиПосле ујутру заједно једете пржене бананеи дуго одјекује смех

Ana RistovićCOLOMBIAAs you walk out on the streeta big cloud looks you straightin the eye, so close you canpat each other on the shoulderand have a chatA cloud, mushroom cloud bigso cottony, it must havefloated from the fieldsYou step insideand disappearNot even the Andean condorcan see youColombian children’s voices resoundreciting grownup poetry about the heart,the soul wanderingIn the morning, you eat fried plantainsand laughter echoesTranslated from the Serbian by Maja Teref and Steven Teref

Maja Teref MASTER TRANSLATOR’S REFLECTIONTranslating with Amina and Marcus from Bosnian/Serbian joggedmy memory back to my own first foray into the world of translationwhen I, aged 13, was typing away on my dad’s old typewriter attempt-ing to translate Running Free, a biography of the British heavy metalband Iron Maiden, from Cockney into Serbo-Croatian. Not only didthe idiomatic nature of the East London dialect throw me off, butits rhyming nature, the rhyming slang. I still remember learning that“mahatma gandhi” means “brandy” and that “clock” means “look.”Much as my mind was exploding with all these linguistic witticisms ofa cleverly coded dialect, I remember Amina’s surprise when realizingthat the literal Bosnian expression “wrinkles around eyes” translatesas “crow’s feet” into English. Amina’s eyes widened as she beganto discern that translation is so much more than transporting mean-ing word for word. In fact, she herself exclaimed, “It’s transportingmeaning from one language into another.” Once she realized thattranslating is an all consuming, intellectual siege of the brain wherebythe translator is in limbo, torn between two languages, each forceful-ly and seductively pulling in its own direction, imposing its own per-ception and nature, Amina was enthused by her epiphany. She thencontinued to translate all on her own the rest of the autobiography inBosnian by her uncle. A week doesn’t go by that she doesn’t pop intomy classroom asking me to look over another sheaf of translations.On the other hand, Marcus’ approach to translating was, in a word,precise. Precise. His grasp of precise grammatical structures inthe English translation exposed an incisive, mathematical mind.The hardest part for him was parting with conjunctions, preposi-tions and other linguistic adhesives that Serbian, being a gram-

and other linguistic adhesives that Serbian, being a grammati-cally based language replete with declensions and conjugations,uses. But English isn’t. Being a heavily semantic language shack-led to word order and less on “grammar words,” English can eas-ily shed the grammaticalization that Serbian is comprised of. Andthis was Marcus’ biggest epiphany and entrance into the word oftranslation. He went through many drafts, each slowly sheddingthe “adhesives” and relying more on the richness of word choice.The translation journeys that Amina and Marcus have now em-barked on enable me to vicariously revisit my own perilous maid-en voyage into the world of translating when the two worlds, theworlds of the literal and the figurative collided, when the universeof denotation crashed into connotation leaving me forever joy-ously (ship)wrecked. That is when translating generously openedits gates ajar and I sheepishly slid in, never wanting to leave.

George BacoviaDIMINEATAO cafea neagra...si-o ploaie de gheataCând spiritul mai arde culori în odaieO privire pe-o carte, pe straieSi pasul ma îndruma în dimineataCum frigul tremurând ca o veste,Tot fuge de-al meu si de-al tau...Tot mai mult am ramas cu ce este,Si ploua cu-o parere de rau.Am uitat daca merg...înca tot mai iubesc...Am ajuns la timp, ocup si un loc.Dar gândul apasa cu greul sau bloc...E numai vedere...nu mai pot sa vorbesc...

George BacoviaMORNINGBlack coffee…and ice pouringThe spirit still burns colors in the roomBetween the lines, I read the volumeMy walk guides me in the morning.Cold shivers like rumors heardEverything runs from me, from you…Often, I remain with what’s inferredThe rain cuts through.I forget that I’m walking…I am still in love…I return and there’s a place to sit.A heavy block presses down; my mind cannot fit…There’s only vision…I can no longer speak of… Translated from the Romanian by Darius Vinesar

Darius Vinesar TRANSLATOR’S REFLECTIONThe prospect of translating someone else’s work, at first, worried me.Like I child, I tentatively asked, “But… I can make my own poems,too, right?” And, of course, they let me. But as I was working on thetranslation of the poem I picked, I began to see the value in it. And tomy surprise, I found the sense of creativity that translation broughtto be delicious. The wonderful thing about the creativity in translatingis that it tastes different from working with my own writing. The cre-ativity came when I decided to keep the rhyming scheme of the orig-inal poem, which is hard enough without another language thrownin. It was a thrill to see words and stanzas flow from one to the next.In the end, I felt a selfish pride in a work that I had merely changed.I realized re-creation is just as beautiful because in it we rediscover. Itfills me with wonder to see all that’s left to transfer and for us to un-derstand. As translators, we are explorers of lands never seen before.