firecat: hello kitty reading a book (reading hk)
[personal profile] firecat
Within is a table containing four translations of the poem "Pod jednq gwiazdkq" by Wisława Szymborska.

Pod jednq gwiazdkq

Wisława Szymborska



beneath one little star

czerniawski

under one small star

baránczak & cavanagh

under a certain little star

trzeciak

under a certain little star

krynski & maguire

my apologies to the accidental for calling it necessary.

my apologies to chance for calling it necessity.

my apologies to chance for calling it necessity.

i apologize to coincidence for calling it necessity.

however, apologies to necessity if i happen to be wrong.

my apologies to necessity if i’m mistaken, after all.

my apologies to necessity in case i’m mistaken.

i apologize to necessity just in case i’m mistaken.

hope happiness won’t be angry if i claim it as my own.

please, don’t be angry, happiness, that i take you as my due.

don’t be angry, happiness, that i take you for my own.

let happiness be not angry that i take it as my own.

may the dead forget that they barely smolder in my remembrance.

may my dead be patient with the way my memories fade.

may the dead forgive me that their memory’s just a flicker.

let the dead not remember they scarcely smolder in my memory.

apologies to time for the abundance of the world missed every second

my apologies to time for all the world i overlook each second.

my apologies to time for the quantity of world overlooked per second.

i apologize to time for the muchness of the world overlooked per second.

apologies to my old love for treating the new as the first.

my apologies to past loves for thinking that the latest is the first.

my apologies to an old love for treating a new one as the first.

i apologize to old love for regarding the new as the first.

forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home.

forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home.

forgive me, far-off wars, for carrying my flowers home.

forgive me, far-off wars, for bringing flowers home.

forgive me, open wounds, that i prick my finger.

forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger.

forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger

forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger.

apologies to those calling from the abyss for a record of a minuet.

i apologize for my record of minuets to those who cry from the depths.

my apologies for the minuet record, to those calling out from the abyss

i apologize to those who cry out of the depths for the minuet-record.

apologies for people catching trains for sleeping at dawn.

i apologize to those who wait in railway stations for being asleep today at five a.m.

my apologies to those in train stations for sleeping soundly at five in the morning.

i apologize to people at railway stations for sleeping at five in the morning.

pardon me, baited hope, for my sporadic laugh.

pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time.

pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing sometimes.

pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing now and again.

pardon me, deserts, for not rushing with a spoonful of water;

pardon me, deserts, that i don’t rush to you bearing a spoonful of water.

pardon me, deserts, for not rushing in with a spoonful of water.

pardon me, deserts, for not rushing up with a spoonful of water.

and you too, hawk, unchanged in years, in that self-same cage,

and you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in the same cage,

and you, o hawk, the same bird for years in the same cage,

and you, o falcon, the same these many years, in that same cage

staring motionless, always at the self-same spot,

your gaze always fixed on the same point in space,

staring, motionless, always at the same spot,

forever staring motionless at that self-same spot,

forgive me, even if you are stuffed.

forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed.

absolve me even if you happen to be stuffed.

absolve me, even though you are but a stuffed bird.

apologies to the hewn tree for the four table legs.

my apologies to the felled tree for the table’s four legs.

my apologies to the tree felled for four table legs.

i apologize to the cut-down tree for the table’s four legs.

apologies to the big questions for small replies.

my apologies to great questions for small answers.

my apologies to large questions for small answers.

i apologize to big questions for small answers.

truth, don’t pay me too much attention.

truth, please don’t pay me much attention.

truth, do not pay me too much attention.

o truth, do not pay me too much heed.

seriousness — be magnanimous

dignity, please be magnanimous

solemnity, be magnanimous toward me.

o solemnity, be magnanimous unto me.

mystery of being — suffer me to pluck threads from your train.

bear with me, o mystery of existence, as i pluck the occasional thread from your train.

bear with me, o mystery of being, for pulling threads from your veil.

endure, mystery of existence, that i pluck out the threads of your train.

soul — don’t blame me for having you but rarely.

soul, don’t take offense that i’ve only got you now and then.

soul, don’t blame me that i’ve got you so seldom.

accuse me not, o soul, of possessing you but seldom.

apologies to everyone for failing to be every him or her.

my apologies to everything that i can’t be everywhere at once.

my apologies to everyone that i can’t be each woman and each man.

my apologies to everything that i can’t be everywhere.

my apologies to all for not knowing how to be every man and woman.

i apologize to everything that i cannot be everywhere.

i apologize to everyone that i cannot be every man and woman.

i know that while i live nothing can excuse me,

i know i won’t be justified as long as i live,

i know that as long as i live nothing can excuse me,

i know that as long as i live nothing can justify me,

since i am my own impediment

since i myself stand in my own way.

since i am my own obstacle.

because i myself am an obstacle to myself.

speech — don’t blame me for borrowing big words

don’t bear me ill will, speech, that i borrow weighty words

do not hold it against me, o speech, that i borrow weighty words

take it not amiss, o speech, that i borrow weighty words

and then struggling to make them light.

then labor heavily so that they may seem light.

and then labor to make them light.

and later try hard to make them seem light.


I have lowercased everything, but that's not how it is in the originals.

This entry was originally posted at http://firecat.dreamwidth.org/791082.html, where there are comment count unavailable comments.

Date: 27 Nov 2012 04:00 pm (UTC)
wild_irises: (Default)
From: [personal profile] wild_irises
So cool! Do you know if [personal profile] badgerbag sees your journal, or should I send her a link? She's the only poetry translator I know personally.

Date: 29 Nov 2012 06:21 am (UTC)
badgerbag: (Default)
From: [personal profile] badgerbag
Oh, this is so beautiful! If I can find one of my multiple-translations zines (14 different translators of one poem) I will put it aside for you if you like!

Date: 29 Nov 2012 06:22 am (UTC)
badgerbag: (Default)
From: [personal profile] badgerbag
but not sure if I have any of them here... have this, though! (my translations/derivations)

A Study in Breaking and Entering

“Yo queria entrar en el teclado para entrar adentro de la música para tener una patria."
— Alejandra Pizarnik

I wanted to enter the typewriter to get inside music so I would have a country.
I set out to enter the typewriter so I'd become its music so I'd have a country.
I desired to penetrate the typewriter so I could l get under the skin of music in order to have a country.
I crawled up inside the typewriter to live inside music to found a country of my own.
I fucked my typewriter to curl up in its music to give birth to a country.
I longed to get inside typewriters, to be the avatar of their music, in order to create a motherland.
I yearned to become the typewriter's body to become music because I wanted a homeland.
I'd be in the typewriter for/getting in music for be/longing.
I'd go into my typewriter to dwell in music and make it my home.

Date: 29 Nov 2012 06:29 am (UTC)
badgerbag: (Default)
From: [personal profile] badgerbag
I am printing this out and then carefully taping it together to put on my wall...

Date: 11 Aug 2014 08:18 am (UTC)
spiralsheep: The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity (ish icons Curiosity Cures Boredom)
From: [personal profile] spiralsheep
I saw this when you first posted it. Perhaps you linked it from [community profile] forkedtongues? It's fascinating to see the differing priorities of literality / poetry / colloquialism.

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