Poetry Exercise. Homophonic Translation

The goal of this exercise is to focus on the material sounds of language, to really listen to thesounds of words and use those sounds to generate ideas for writing poems. We will do this byusing poems in foreign languages.

This prompt is taken fi'om my own writing experiments and fi'om leading Languagepoetry practitioner and theorist Charles Bernstein's "Experiments" (handily compiled bythe University of Pennsylvania's Electronic Poetry Cente19. It asks you to venture intouncertain linguistic territory where meaning ceases to guide your composition (o1" inthis case, translation)process and, instead, turns the reins over to sound.

We all know what homophones are, words that mean differently despite their (usuallyidentical) sonic qualities (see/sea, their/there), and this exercise is one that relies almostexclusively on the odd transmutations of meaning that can happen when two wordssound the same but signify different things.., in different languages.

Though you will be working to translate apiece of poetry fi'om another language intoEnglish, because the translation method is based on homophones and sound patternsrather than denotative/connotative meanings, your process will undoubtedly yieldsome wacky -- but wonderful! -- results.

Attached to this sheet is a packet of poems in foreign languages. With your peer, pick a poem and haveyour peer read it several times. You are encouraged to use a poem in a language that you are least familiarwith. Don't be embarrassed if you can't pronounce everything or if you aren't sure-that's ok and it's to beexpected! Just do your best to sound things out phonetically. For at least one reading, close your eyes andreally try to listen to the sounds of the words and "see" the words in your mind's eye before writing downthe closest approximation in English. (The translations are provided at the back of the packet, but don'tlook at those yet! The goal here isn't to create a faithful word-by-word translation of the original intoEnglish, but to create something new from unfamiliar or semi-familiar sounds.)

Then, start to write a poem based on the word sounds of the foreign language poem. Do the words suggestanything to you, like a narrative? Focus on putting the words into coherent lines, and letting the thoughtsfrom one line build into the thoughts of the second. As opposed to just a collection of sounds, use yourimagination to "massage to taste," so to speak, even if the narrative or story is "wacky"! Get as far as youcan, and then we will re-group and share.

Tip #1: You can make homophones of homophones. For example, the title a Neruda's poem is "Oda a laManzana". Let's say that sounds like "Ode a lot Montana", which might sound like "Owe a lot Montana"which might sound like "Oh, all of Montana" and so on. You can use this strategy to take the phoneticsounds of one word or phrase and keep going down the line, so to speak.

Tip #2: Ever use voice-to-text and have it come out all garbled? To its credit, voice-to-text works hard tomatch the sounds you are speaking to something in the phone's dictionary. You can use this to youradvantage by reading the foreign language poems into the voice-to-text (as if you were sending a text ormaking a note) and seeing what the phone thinlcs is the closest phonetic match!

Archaischer Torso Apollos (German)

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Wir kannten nicht sein unerh6rtes Haupt,darin die Augenÿipfel reiften. Abersein Torso glfiht noch wie ein Kandelaber,in dem sein Schauen, nur zurfickgeschraubt,

sich hÿilt und glÿinzt. Sonst k6nnte nicht der Bugder Brust dich blenden, und im leisen Drehender Lenden k6nnte nicht ein Lÿicheln gehenzu jener Mitte, die die Zeugung trug.

Sonst sttinde dieser Stein entstellt und kurzunter der Schultern durchsichtigem Sturzund flimmelÿe nicht so wie Raubtierfelle

und brÿiche nicht aus allen seinen Rÿindernaus wie ein Stern: denn da ist keine Stelle,die dich nicht sieht. Du mul3t dein Leben ÿindern.

JuventudPablo Neruda

Un perfume como una ficida espadade ciruelas en un camino,

los besos del azficar en los dientes,

las gotas vitales resbalando en los dedos,

la dulce pulpa er6tica,las eras, los pajares, los incitantessitios secretos de las casas anchas,

los colchones dormidos en el pasado, el agrio valle verdemirado desde arriba, desde el vidrio escondido:

toda la adolescencia mojfindose y ardiendo

como una lÿmpara derribada en la lluvia.

E1 PoetaPablo Neruda

Antes anduve por la vida, en mediode un amor doloroso: antes remve

una pequefia p,fgina de cuarzoclavdndome los ojos en la vida.

Comprfi bondad, estuve en el mercado

de la codicia, respirfi las aguasmds sordas de la envidia, la inhumanahostilidad de mÿscaras y seres.

Vivi un mundo de cifinaga marinaen que la flor de pronto, la azucename devoraba en su temblor de espuma,

y donde puse el pie resbal6 mi almahacia las dentaduras del abismo.

Asi naci6 mi poesla, apenas

rescatada de orugas, empufiadasobre la soledad como un castigo,o apart6 en el jardln de la impudiciasu rods secreta flor hasta enterrarla.

Aislado asl como el agua sombrla

que rive en sus profundos corredores,cord de mano en mano, al aislamiento

de cada set, al odio cuotidiano,Supe que asl vivlan, escondiendola mitad de los seres, como peces

del mÿis extraflo mar, yen las ÿangosasinmensidades encontrd la muerte.

La muerte abfiendo puertas y caminos.La muerte deslizÿindose en los muros.

"El Poeta" from CaJJto Ge,eral

Published in Selected Poems of Pablo NerudaEdited and translated by Ben BelittCopyright © Fundacidn Pablo Neruda, 2009

57ÿ ÿ L> Z . ' -

_:-- .ÿ 7- ÿ - -:-:- -7

L

dzin (ÿ

i .

dzin dzin dzin dzin dzin dzin pulkstenis ir pÿri trimdivi cilveki pa sniegu brien uz ÿliem uguI)iem " 1'

cauri naktij caLM sfrsnai mutfim aizsegkfim pret vÿju ''

kÿ es vk, m neredzÿju kad ÿeit dienfi viena skrÿju ' ildzin dzin dzin dzin &in dzin vi])a zin bet ring vÿl rain i,Idzin dzin dzin dzin dzin dzin vinÿ jau zin bet vina rain Iÿÿ '::

kÿjas nobraztas un aukstas mÿnesgaisma kristalplaukstasdzin dzin dzin dzin dzin dzin pulkstenis ir pari trimdivi cilvÿki pa sniegu brien uz ÿaliem ugu,niem

/

53

i<.ran dk loci tevis vajag,

varu cev pat naudu aizdot.

h!dan cik !od tevis vajag,!ca as izaugu tik liela,ka man samaksÿia algu,

iatEt nakur es nestradaju.

i,_izgfiju un nokÿrtoju,

[zplr!¢u es sevi pati.

oto

Tagad skatos, mud p[ati

pav[rusi, lai vat iek[ÿ sale[ rudens,

auks dno[ m-t zvaigznes spaidot,

iai vaz iel(ÿ saiet debess,

!ai es pieÿdos no dzÿves,

!aies visu garo zfemu

staroju ka spuldze parka.

Taj[, kur ir vienm[r skais[i,

raiN, kur ir vienmar suni,

bÿmi, omkes un lapas,

kuras !ido, kur [ÿm patTk.

Vina smaida nobranajuga fotogra[ija,rokas sa{naugtas,

[a, lai neredz, ka tric,

vinas virs ir sasuk[ts, lima auguma,

vinas vks ir un vienmÿ.r bÿs vinas vks.

Vinas bÿmi, viens pie otra

ka parlkes kaklarota,meklajiet debesis vinas augstaj5 pierÿ,

neskatieties uz rokXm.

Cauri alejai vini atÿie[as mÿjup,

aikstot ar vi,nu mnÿj as rati,

vinai nekad nepiefiks drosmes aiziet,

ap augsto pieri cir[ojas ma[i.

Kad vin[ nosirmos un vairs nedosies vakaros jiira,

vi,na atkIÿs, ka vinÿ prot smienes,

vina iecirtTs deinS, skalus piagot,

asaras noslaps vien liems.

Tad vi,n[ panems vi,nu aiz rokas

un dejos uz palsajiem da!iem,

2d

vinai vajadzaja rik daudz drosmes, lai aizietu prom,

cik mums -- bat par palicajiem.

27

l

2::;

178

)i

Certo ÿ ridicolo eforse scandaloso

che io provi cosi potente invidia

per quel figlio undicenne insonnolito

caduto tra le braccia di sua madre

a godersi il suo turno di piacere

per quanto inconsapevole e stordito.

Come potrei alia mia et5 competere

con quei capelli lievi, queUa fronte

che si ritrae per farsi pih cedevole

alia forza sicura delle mani

the la chiudono dentro le carezze,

non leziose carezze ma indiscussa

sovranitÿ di asciutta tenerezza,

vera carezza certa che possiede?

Non trovo alcun rimedio alla mia invidia:

the cosa voglio io, dare o ricevere?

Essere quel che sono, eppure figlioÿ

non figUa femmina, ma femminile

figlio, figlio assoluto, imprecisato

figlio. Ah madre mia che avevo, perchd

non mi hai convinto?

/

i:TT:" :i,

f

2

2 37

=,

\

Incapace d'amore, Amore FMologico

con i piÿ bassi mezzi mÿ tortura.

Ha a sua diaposizione la vastitÿ del corpo

reso ancora pitÿ vasto dal dolore.

I1 sangue raspa e preme contro vene

e arterie e l'osso sterno che ripara

il cuore si sbriciola in acri trafitture.

Un sodalizio di lacrime e languore

si addensa nella zona occipitale

mentre una lama attraversa la cervice

e scende lunga quÿtO la dorsale.

Filo spinato dettrificato

penetra il manto della pia madre

e sparge scariche nd lobo temporaie.

11 nervo vago ormai terrorizzato

lascia le redini e imbizzarisce il cuore.

La linfa senza ordini e governo

non riesce pitt a fare il suo viaggio

si ferma sui binari dove capita

o ingorga le stazioni ghiandolari.

Solo terrore c'ÿ e solo smarrimento.

E tutto questo per farml confessare

che io non sono in nessun modo mai spirituale.

116-,

",4

L'amore non ÿ certo un sentimento

ma ÿ quelPossessivo ragionare

sul mistero del nostro apprendimento.

Apprendo la tua faccia e la mantengo

ma poi |a perdo in un istante e la riprendo,

aggiungo e tolgo, mi accorgo

dJ ogni carrfl)iamento, ÿunambo!o pensiero

sempre sttl punto di cadere

--arnore non sostiene.

NOÿ love 8Ll

it's an obseÿ

about the rÿ

I take in yoÿ

but then I l

I add and s

each shade

always abo

love doesn'

7 7: ....' II

/I

V td an s

Es v{los redzÿt sievietes,

izauguÿas pastaigasno vienas kr{slainas istabascita, viena un taja papa savrupmajaiela ar mierigiem apstadijumiem,kur daÿas vecmodSgas marinasned@l, am nekust no vietas.

V@los ar vinam apspriestpussabirzugus gurnalus,kuros apburoÿi smaidimijas ar Standard Oilun gveices banku glancÿtam reklamam.

Vinu tÿrpi, kas parmainus

gan izcel, gan apsl@pjkustibas, atkaribano sezonas vai diennakts stundas - tumÿi

vai gaiÿi za,li, violeti vaililla, vinu gaisma pa briÿarnuzmirdz¢juÿas darglietaspriecfitu mani, vienm{r iet{rptuar zeltu izÿCtta l<Tnieÿu halatavai klasiska uzvalka ar aproeu poggm

ka Medfizas galva.Nejauÿi ÿajÿ ielÿgargrntraucogi motociklistiiztramditu haloS.us,es nolÿkotos uz tiem no balkona

otraja stava,raudzitos, ka vinu adas muguraspartop vispirms par melniem punl<tiem,

i

I

I

!

Septembris

Kluso laika apstÿ&lu aparati strada

Ar pilnu jauctu. KokiStabili ien, em savas pozicijas.Parvietojama kal,<a iericeSastingst uz zales seguma.Viss ,loti labi, ,loti sp@Ggi,,lot] reali.

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59

1/24/2016

Sldp to contentLantern Review Blog

Weekly Prompt: Homophonic Translation I Lantern Review Blog

Asian American Poetry Unbound

, Home, Digital Broadsides,, Masthead

Weekly Prompt: Homophonic Translation

2011 August 12tags: charles bernstein, Friday Prompt, homophonic translation, language poetryby Mia

Charles Bernstein ] Courtesy of The PoetryFoundation

This week's prompt is taken from leading Language poetry practitioner and theorist Charles Bernstein's"Experiments" (handily compiled by the University of Pennsylvania's Electronic Poetry Center). It asksyou to ventm'e into uncertain linguistic tmTitory where meaning ceases to guide your composition (or inthis case, O'anslation) process and, instead, turns the reins over to somÿd.

We all know what homophones are, words that mean differently despite their (usually identical) sonicqualities (see/sea, their/there), and this exercise is one that relies almost exclusively on the oddtransmutations of meaning that can happen when two words sound the same but signify differentthings.., in different languages.

Though you will be working to translate a piece of poetry fi'om another language into English, becausethe translation method is based on homophones and sound patterns rather than denotative/connotativemeanings, your process will undoubtedly yield some wacky -- but wonderful! -- results.

http://www.lanter nr evi ew.com/blog/2011/081121weekly-prompt-homophonic-translationl 1/5

1/24/2016 Weekly Prompt: Homophonic Translation I Lantern Review Blog

If you enjoy the prompt and want to try other OuLiPo-type exercises inspired by Bernstein and others, docheck out the EPC's list of Language-poetry exercises. Other ideas include taking two pages from anewspaper, magazine or book, and tearing them in half before pasting them together.., voila, sourcematerial for a poem. Also, famously, there's the "n+7" substitution exercise, where you:

Take a poem or other, possibly well-lmown, text and substitute another word for every noun,

adjective, adverb, and verb; determine the substitute word by looking up the index word inthe dictionary and going 7 up or down, or one more, until you get a syntactically suitablereplacement.

These exercises encourage play and experimentation and can also be really generative, something I'vefound hugely beneficial when my work grows dull and predictable.

Careful though: the poet's disclosure at very bottom of the page reads, "Any profits accrued as a direct orindirect result of the use of these formulas shall be redistributed to the language at large" and"Management assumes no responsibility for damages that may result consequent to the use of thismaterial"!

Prompt:

Find a poem in a different language (Vietnamese, Urdu or Portugese, for example) and, withoutconsidering its literal translation (ie. amour = love, chÿri = beloved/darling), translate the sound ofthe poem into English (ie. amour = a moor, chÿri = share heat). Be sure that you pick a languagewhose pronunciations you can approximate, but not necessarily understand. Revise as necessary,but try not to become overly directive of your translation's meaning, punctuation or narrative;focus instead on the sounds and strangeness of its emergent linguistic texture.

from --+ Friday Prompt

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http://www.lanter nrevi ew.com/blog/2011/08/12,ÿ'eekly-prom pt-homophonic-translation/ 2/5

Youth (Juventud)Pablo Nemda

Acid and sword blade: the fragranceof plum in the pathways:tooth's sweetmeat of "kisses,

power and spilth on the fingers,the yielding erotic of pulps,hayricks and threshing floors, clandestinerecesses that tempt through the vasmess of houses;

bolsters asleep in the past, the bitter green valley,seen from above, from the glasses' concealment;

and drenching and flaring by turns, adolescencelike a lamp overturned hÿ the rain.

The Poet (El Poeta)Pablo Neruda

That time when I moved among happeningsin the midst of my mournful devotions; that timewhen I cherished a leaflet of quartz,at gaze in a lifetime's vocation.

I ranged in the markets of avarice

where goodness is bought for a price, breathedthe insensate miasmas of envy, the inhuman

contention of masks and existences.I endured in the bog-dweller's element; the lilythat breaks on the water in a suddendisturbance of bubbles and blossoms, devoured me.

\Vhatever the foot sought, the spirit deflected,or sheered toward the fang of the pit.So my poems took being, in travailretrieved from the thorn, like a penance,

wrenched by a seizure of hands, out of solitude;

or the}, parted for burialtheir secretest flower in immodesty's garden.

Estranged to myself, like shadow on water,

that moves through a corridor's fathoms,

I sped through the exile of each man's e,'dstence,

this way and that, and so, to habitual loathing;for I saw that their being was this: to stifleone half of existence's fullness like fishin an alien limit of ocean. And there,in immensity's mire, I encountered their death;

Death grazing the barriers,Death opening roadways and doorways.

"The Poet" from GelleralSollg, 1950

Published in Selecred Poems of Pablo NerHdaEdited and translated by Ben BelittCopyright © Fundaci6n Pablo Neruda, 2009

Archaic Torso of ApolloRainer Mafia Riÿe

We cannot lcnow Iris legendaU headwith eyes like ripening fruit. And yet his torsois still suffused with brilliance from inside,like a lamp, in which iris gaze, now turned to low,

gleams in all its power. Othenvisethe cutwed breast could not dazzle you so, nor coulda smile tun through the placid hips and thighsto that dark center where procreation flared.

Otherwise this stone would seem defacedbeneath the translucent cascade of the shouldersand would not glisten like a wild beast's fur:

would not, from all the borders of itself,burst like a star: for here there is no place

that does not see you. You must change }Tour life.

1/24/2016 Archaic Torso of Apollo

°orgPublished on Academy of American Poets (https://www.poets.org)

Home > Archaic Torso of Apollo

Archaic Torso of Apollo

We cannot know hls legendary headwith eyes like ripenlng fruit. And yet his torsois still suffused with brilliance from inslde,like a lamp, in which his gaze, now turned to low,

gleams in all /ts power. Otherwisethe curved breast could not dazzle you so, nor coulda smile run through the placid hips and thighsto that dark center where procreation flared.

Otherwise this stone would seem defacedbeneath the translucent cascade of the shouldersand would not glisten l±l<e a wild beast's fur:

would not, from all the borders of itself,burst like a star: for here there is no placethat does not see you. You must change your life.

Credit:

From Ahead of All Parting: Selected Poetry and Prose of Rainer Maria Rilke, translated byStephen Mitchell and published by Modern Library. © 1995 by Stephen Mitchell. Used withpermission. All rights reserved.

Author:

Rainer Maria Rilke

https://www.poets.org/pri ntJnode/48046 1/2

,,i,"179

Surdy it's ridiculous maybe even scandalous

that I [ÿel such overpowering enW

for tile deven-year-old son who's dozing

fallen into his mother's re'ms

to enjoy his turn of pleasure

however unaware and heedless.

At my age how could I compete

with that fine hair, that brow

which pulls back all the better to surrender

to the sure power of those hands

that close him in their caresses,

not lustful caresses but undisputec!

sovereignty of simple tenderness,

the true sure gesture that possesses?

There's no cure for my envy:

what do I want, to give or to receive?

To be what I am, yet not a female daughter

but a feminine son, an absolute son,

an undifferentiated son. Mother of mine,

what went wrong, why didn't you convince me?

il

Ii

JONATHAN GALASSI

7 ::

-%

2

L

:i

=

Incapable o[ love, Physiological Love

tortures me by the basest of means.

It has at its disposal the vastness of the body

rendered even vaster by pain.

Blood rushes and presses against veins

and arteries, and the sternum that shelters

the heart shatters into sharp spurs.

A sodality of tears and languor

gathers in the occipital zone

while a blade pierces the cervix

and descends <all down the backbone.

Barbed wire dectrified

penetrates the mantle of the pia mater

and sends shocks into the temporal lobe,

The vagus nerve by now terrorized

drops the reins and fi'enzies the heart.

Lymph without orders, ungoverned,

no longer can make its journey

stops along the tracks wherever

orjams the glandular terminals.

Nothing but terror is there and dismay.

And all this just to make me admit

that I am in no way ever spiritual.

GINI ALHADEFF

2o5:: :: ÿ:

7

-3

::2-

75

2-

J

=

No, love surely isn't a feeling,

it's an obsessive line of thought

'about the mystery of how we learn.

I take in your face and hold it fast

but then I lose it quick as a ,,,,'ink, and talÿe it back,

I add and sttbtract, I register

each shade of change: a tightrope-walldng thought

always a])out to fall--

love doesn't hold.

RO SAI'tNA WARREN

119

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