Sunday, 25 November 2012

More of Rilke's Roses in Translation: It's Not Getting Any Easier


I'm still tinkering with translation from French of Rilke's Roses poems. Number V has bested me for now, so here's number VI. And no, it's not getting any easier. A bit more practise would probably help...

I have played merry hell with the order of the ideas, though not, I hope, with the ideas themselves. Please feel free to criticise.



THE ROSES (Rainer Maria Rilke, translated from French by Clarissa Aykroyd)


VI

One rose alone is every rose,
one, but manifold meaning:
perfect and irreplaceable,
framed by words of being.

How could we ever speak
without the rose,
of sweet interludes in constant farewell,
or of our hopes?


(Original French)

VI

Une rose seule, c'est toutes les roses
et celle-ci: l'irremplaçable,
le parfait, le souple vocable
encadré par le texte des choses.

Comment jamais dire sans elle
ce que furent nos espérances,
et les tendres intermittences
dans la partance continuelle.



Translation © Clarissa Aykroyd, 2012
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2 comments:

  1. James Owens11 December 2012 at 18:14

    I am delighted to find someone who cares about Rilke's french poems!! It seems to me that they have always been unjustly neglected, obviously overshadowed by his other work. I like your translation, especially "of sweet interludes in constant farewell," which weighs very Rilkean to my ear.

    I've been translating some of these poems myself over the years (far too slowly), and finding their difficulties to be equally their joys. I offer this alternative version of my own not as a critique of yours, but (I hope) as a celebration of the many right ways of approaching the original.

    VI

    Une rose seule, c'est toutes les roses
    et celle-ci : l'irremplaçable,
    le parfait, le souple vocable
    encadré par le texte des choses.

    Comment jamais dire sans elle
    ce que furent nos espérances,
    et les tendres intermittences
    dans la partance continuelle.


    VI

    A single rose is all roses
    and this one: irreplaceable,
    perfect, supple vocable
    the text of things encloses.

    How could we say, without her,
    what were our hopes,
    and the brief, tender stops
    in continual departure.

    .

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Clarissa Aykroyd11 December 2012 at 22:17

      Thanks so much for your comment and the translation, which I enjoyed! Closer to the shape of the original than mine, I think. If you would like to read the other translations I've done so far you can find them by clicking on the Rilke tag or in the Archive.

      I was hardly aware until recently that Rilke had any French poems, but when I started reading these I thought they would be good translation practice - I don't have much experience.

      I feel that his German works are more like great symphonies, and these French poems are more like delicate etudes or sonatinas. They might not be as deep and intense as the German works but they are lovely.

      Delete

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