Between classes, dissertation and an exhilirating translation project (which I can't disclose yet), I haven't had much time for exploring literary life on the internet. But clearly I get distracted because by Friday morning, my desktop is (again) clouded with links "saved for later."
The April 2007 issue of Poetry was devoted to translation and included a poem by Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill, translated by Paul Muldoon. The poem, "The Mermaid in the Hospital," was my favorite piece in that issue. A complete translation of Ní Dhomhnaill's "mermaid poems" is forthcoming. I've been meaning to read more of and about her work. She writes in Irish and also actively encourages bold translations of her poems. To quote from the PIW introduction to her work (linked to above): "Ní Dhomhnaill questions translation approaches that call for extreme fidelity to the original Irish text, and prefers instead to grant her English translators with full creative license to render her original Irish poems into aesthetic texts for English-speaking audiences."
I like to imagine an anthology of poems featuring mermaids and sea-horses:
Then all the dry-pied things that be
In the hueless mosses under the sea
Would curl round my silver feet silently,
All looking up for the love of me.
And if I should carol aloud, from aloft
All things that are forked, and horned, and soft
Would lean out from the hollow sphere of the sea,
All looking down for the love of me.
"The Mermaid" by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Christopher Reid published a volume of poems titled Mermaids Explained. But I must have saved a link to this interview with Reid because it addresses the theme of translation that runs through his work, which I've never read. His third book, Katerina Brac, is a translation of works by a ficitional poet. It's going on my list of books to buy immediately.
I subscribe to the Writer's Almanac but when the week gets hectic many of their messages end up unopened and later discarded. The one email from WA that I opened this week featured the poem "The Fabric of Life" by Kay Ryan (scroll down to September 27). Her lines are taut, tremendously compressed. I've been thinking about line and breath lately so I'll be taking a closer look at her work. In 2006 Ryan appeared on the NewsHour with Jim Leher. "Silence means a great deal to me, and I've learned to distinguish a great number of forms of silence. My poems talk about a palpable silence, that creamy, latexy kind of silence that we know, even when we're experiencing it as a giant luxury, like a dream luxury. There is an angry silence, which is a very different and unpleasant form of silence." Take a moment to read "Blandeur."
Kevin Shay interviewed Robert Pinsky when he was sixteen years old. I enjoyed every bit of this interview. Here's a highlight:
CG: What words of advice would you give to aspiring young poets?
RP: Find something you’ve read that you love. Memorize it, type it up on a piece of paper with your own hands, and put it on the wall above your toaster, and say it to yourself in the shower. Find things that you really love, not because the teacher said they were good but because you love them, and try to acquire as many things like that as possible—things that you know so well you feel as if you had written them.
Absolutely. Susan Stewart's "Yellow Stars and Ice" has been on the wall adjacent to my desk for almost two years.
Desktop Status: Clear, momentarily. A threat of afternoon showers looms.
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