cause i'm cool like that:
I borrowed a book of Jean Follain's poetry from Jordan. He's a french author (duh), and the book is presented as a side-by-side with WS Merwin's (read: god of poetry's) translations. I decided to test my mettle against the institutional standard:
Mutilation Volontaire, by Jean Follain
_____________________________________________
Pour s’éviter de servir
Aux armées de l’empereur,
Un beau soir avec la hache
Le maître se mutila
De deux grands doigts de sa main,
Sa jeune et blonde épouse
Pansa la plaie tendrement
Et les pensées à cœur jaune
Tremblèrent dans le parterre
Les deux chiens du maître hurlèrent
Quand on le porta au lit
Alors charbonnaient les lampes
Entourées de papillons ;
Mais les femmes assemblées
Sur la place du village
Devant la rougeur des nuages
Disaient que ce qu’elles voyaient
Etait le sang des soldats
Voluntary Mutilation by Jean Follain;
translation by Dan Weintritt
___________________________________________
To escape his service
in the emperor's armies,
one fine evening with an ax
the master amputated
two good fingers from his hand,
his young blonde wife
dressed the wound with care
and the yellow-hearted pansies
trembled in their garden beds
the master's two dogs howled
when he was laid in bed
then the lamps went black
swarmed by moths;
but the women gathered
in the village square
under the reddening clouds
said what they saw
was the blood of soldiers.
Voluntary Mutilation by Jean Follain;
translation by WS Merwin
___________________________________________
Rather than have to serve
in the emperor's armies
one fine evening the master
took the ax to himself
cut from his hand two great fingers,
his young blonde wife
gently bandaged the place
and the yellow hearted
pansies shook in the border
the master's two dogs howled
as he was carried to bed
then the lamps smoked
surrounded by moths
but the women who gathered
on the village square
facing the red clouds said
that what they saw was the blood
of soldiers.
I see some choices of his I would have liked to appropriate, such as his using of a "border" instead of the literal "bed" and his restructuring of the last two lines to drive the force of the moral a little better, but mostly i'm glad that i correctly identified the correct meaning of the verb "charbonner," which can mean to smoke OR to go black or dark. I like that i used the latter, because it suggests that the moths were so plentiful as to blot out the light, unlike his smoke which is meaningless. Yes, I rule!
Mutilation Volontaire, by Jean Follain
_____________________________________________
Pour s’éviter de servir
Aux armées de l’empereur,
Un beau soir avec la hache
Le maître se mutila
De deux grands doigts de sa main,
Sa jeune et blonde épouse
Pansa la plaie tendrement
Et les pensées à cœur jaune
Tremblèrent dans le parterre
Les deux chiens du maître hurlèrent
Quand on le porta au lit
Alors charbonnaient les lampes
Entourées de papillons ;
Mais les femmes assemblées
Sur la place du village
Devant la rougeur des nuages
Disaient que ce qu’elles voyaient
Etait le sang des soldats
Voluntary Mutilation by Jean Follain;
translation by Dan Weintritt
___________________________________________
To escape his service
in the emperor's armies,
one fine evening with an ax
the master amputated
two good fingers from his hand,
his young blonde wife
dressed the wound with care
and the yellow-hearted pansies
trembled in their garden beds
the master's two dogs howled
when he was laid in bed
then the lamps went black
swarmed by moths;
but the women gathered
in the village square
under the reddening clouds
said what they saw
was the blood of soldiers.
Voluntary Mutilation by Jean Follain;
translation by WS Merwin
___________________________________________
Rather than have to serve
in the emperor's armies
one fine evening the master
took the ax to himself
cut from his hand two great fingers,
his young blonde wife
gently bandaged the place
and the yellow hearted
pansies shook in the border
the master's two dogs howled
as he was carried to bed
then the lamps smoked
surrounded by moths
but the women who gathered
on the village square
facing the red clouds said
that what they saw was the blood
of soldiers.
I see some choices of his I would have liked to appropriate, such as his using of a "border" instead of the literal "bed" and his restructuring of the last two lines to drive the force of the moral a little better, but mostly i'm glad that i correctly identified the correct meaning of the verb "charbonner," which can mean to smoke OR to go black or dark. I like that i used the latter, because it suggests that the moths were so plentiful as to blot out the light, unlike his smoke which is meaningless. Yes, I rule!