Evil / c&c

[George Dance]

Evil

While the red-flecked mouths of cannons sing
And grapeshot whistles under clear blue sky;
While, red or green, before each preening King,
The massed battalions break, and thousands die;
While flowers bloom and sweet grass grows again,
In splendid sunshine, under summer heat,
And madness grinds a hundred thousand men
Into a steaming pile of rotting meat;

A God smiles down, as incense fills the air,
At chalices and altars, gold, ornate,
And slowly dozes off to mumbled prayer
But wakes when black-clad mothers, bowed in grief
And Weeping, clink into his silver plate
A few coins from each knotted handkerchief.

translated GJD



Le Mal

Tandis que les crachats rouges de la mitraille
Sifflent tout le jour par l'infini du ciel bleu;
Qu'écarlates ou verts, près du Roi qui les raille,
Croulent les bataillons en masse dans le feu;

Tandis qu'une folie épouvantable, broie
Et fait de cent milliers d'hommes un tas fumant;
- Pauvres morts dans l'été, dans l'herbe, dans ta joie,
Nature, ô toi qui fis ces hommes saintement!... -

- Il est un Dieu qui rit aux nappes damassées
Des autels, à l'encens, aux grands calices d'or;
Qui dans le bercement des hosanna s'endort,

Et se réveille quand des mères, ramassées
Dans l'angoisse et pleurant sous leur vieux bonnet noir,
Lui donnent un gros sou lié dans leur mouchoir!

- Arthur Rimbaud

[George Dance]

On Sunday, July 31, 2016 at 5:56:12 PM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:

A few small revisions


Evil

While loud the red-flecked mouths of cannons sing
And grapeshot whistles under empty sky;

While, red or green, before each preening King,
The massed battalions break, and thousands die;
While flowers bloom and sweet grass grows again,
In splendid sunshine, under summer heat,
And madness grinds a hundred thousand men
Into a steaming pile of rotting meat;

A God smiles down through incense-laden air

At chalices and altars, gold, ornate,
And slowly dozes off to mumbled prayer
But wakes when black-clad mothers, bowed in grief

And weeping, clink into His silver plate
The few coins in a knotted handkerchief.

> translated GJD

[Michael Pendragon]

Congratulations George, you've just made me a Rimbaud fan.

I cross-checked it against several other translations, and none of them measure up. Unlike most translations, this has all the power of an original piece; strong imagery and meter throughout, nothing forced, no filler ...

Sheer, unadulterated brilliance. (Needless to say, I'm impressed.)

My only suggestion would be to change "rotting" to "rotten." "Rotting" is probably more correct as the process of rotting would produce the stench; but "rotten" has a greater sense of finality about it which I feel lends added weight that's necessary for the closing line of a stanza.

[Richard Oakley]

seconded

[Will Dockery]

On Sunday, July 31, 2016 at 5:56:12 PM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:

Another winner. Did you see the Paul Verlaine poems I located here recently? I'll bump that thread back to the top just in case you missed them.

[George Dance]

On Monday, August 1, 2016 at 12:45:41 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Monday, August 1, 2016 at 12:03:04 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > On Sunday, July 31, 2016 at 5:56:12 PM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> >
> > A few small revisions
> >
> >
> > Evil
> >
> > While loud the red-flecked mouths of cannons sing
> > And grapeshot whistles under empty sky;
> > While, red or green, before each preening King,
> > The massed battalions break, and thousands die;
> > While flowers bloom and sweet grass grows again,
> > In splendid sunshine, under summer heat,
> > And madness grinds a hundred thousand men
> > Into a steaming pile of rotting meat;
> >
> > A God smiles down through incense-laden air
> > At chalices and altars, gold, ornate,
> > And slowly dozes off to mumbled prayer
> > But wakes when black-clad mothers, bowed in grief
> > And weeping, clink into His silver plate
> > The few coins in a knotted handkerchief.
> >
> > > translated GJD
>
> Congratulations George, you've just made me a Rimbaud fan.

Thank you. That's high praise indeed.

> I cross-checked it against several other translations, and none of them measure up.

This is probably the place for me to acknowledge Paul Schmidt's translation, the most common one on the web. While I prefer mine to his (of course), I did use two phrases from his - "The massed battalions break" and "incense-laden air" - that were better than anything I could come up with.

> Unlike most translations, this has all the power of an original piece; strong imagery and meter throughout, nothing forced, no filler ...
>
> Sheer, unadulterated brilliance. (Needless to say, I'm impressed.)
>

Wow! Thanks again. There's one thing I do, differently from most translations (which are usually line-for-line): if I think the poem can be improved by rearranging some lines, or dropping one completely, I'll do that. In this case, I did that in the second quatrain: Rimbaud puts his most powerful image (the men being ground up into meat) in lines 5 & 6, followed by with the part about the beautiful summer weather in sunshine and an aside about the "poor men" in line 8. I changed that by cutting the aside, and putting the image at the end. I think it's so much more powerful this way; and I don't think it mars the translation, since it's still all Rimbaud's imagery, which is most important.

> My only suggestion would be to change "rotting" to "rotten." "Rotting" is probably more correct as the process of rotting would produce the stench; but "rotten" has a greater sense of finality about it which I feel lends added weight that's necessary for the closing line of a stanza.

I see your point; and in addition I like getting rid of one of the "-ing" words; there's a lot of them in there. On the other hand, I see a logical problem if I go with "rotten" or "rotted" - if the meat is already rotten, then it's not steaming anymore because the body heat is gone (though maybe it's steaming because of the "summer heat").

I'll do what I do in most cases where I can't decide right away: keep both versions in one file, and down the road decide which I prefer. My deadline for putting this on the blog is November (though I may put it in my next book, which I'm hoping to have done my September), so there's time for that.

As always, thank you for reading and commenting.

[George Dance]

On Monday, August 1, 2016 at 1:44:14 AM UTC-4, Richard Oakley wrote:
> seconded

Thank you, Richard.

[George Dance]

Thank you, Will; there's a later version, not that much different, though.

> Did you see the Paul Verlaine poems I located here recently? I'll bump that thread back to the top just in case you missed them.

No, I don't remember them, anyway. I've never tried translating a Verlaine poem. I have one of his poems on the blog, but the translation was by Gertrude Hall:

http://gdancesbetty.blogspot.ca/2013/08/jour-dete-verlaine.html

[Rachel]

i dont even read it, just glancing, but it sure looks like you do a stellar job!

that first one, last time, with bowels....i think i read it, that really felt a lot more authentic than some of the older translations i came across, which seemed a lot more (inappropriately) tame.

does this ring true?

well, anyway, great job! IMPRESSIVE, GEORGE! :-)

[George Dance]

Thanks, Rachel.

[Will Dockery]

Seems it may be soon time to get Verlaine back, back to where he once belonged.

[Rachel]

hey george. so i read your poem the other day, and i must confess, the french is kinda beyond me, so many words which ring no bells in the recesses of my memory, i'd have to struggle through it with a dictionary, but anyway....i'm not a big fan of rimbaud, (but you know how they say, YMMV....depending on my state of mind....) however, your words did seem well-chosen. it was a poem made up of good words, i just wasn't crazy about the poem itself.

but good job! :) (i think i liked that first one, with bowels, better)

[George Dance]

You're sweet. Here's a sweet Rimbaud poem for you:

Sensation

In the hot summer days of shimmering blue
I shall wander uncharted frontiers,
With the grasses prickling and cooling my soles
And the breezes bathing my ears.

Not a word shall I speak, not a thought shall I think
As I wander with nothing to guide me,
But my spirit shall fill with unlimited love,
As if for a woman beside me.

translation by GJD

[Richard Oakley]

Sensation

In the sweltering days of simmering blues
I will wander uncharted waters,
With gravestones rising and clutching my shoes
And awkward looks of young daughters.

No words shyly uttered, no thoughts released above
As I wander with no map to guide.
Let my spirit sing tall with unlimited love,
All for a young girl beside.

[Peter J Ross]

In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Sun, 31 Jul 2016 14:56:11 -0700 (PDT),

George Dance wrote:

> Evil
>
> While the red-flecked mouths of cannons sing

<stolen text snipped>

> translated GJD

As you have admitted, you don't know any French. You are therefore
incapable of translating French.

As as well known and conclusively proved, you have plagiarised
repeatedly, principally from Leonard Cohen, from an anonymous
translator of Canadian-French verse, and from me.

Why are you still trying to pass other people's work off as your own,
Dunce?




--
PJR :-)

τὸ γὰρ δίκαιον οἶδε καὶ τρυγῳδία.
- Aristophanes

[Peter J Ross]

In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Sun, 31 Jul 2016 21:45:40 -0700 (PDT),

Michael Pendragon wrote:

> Congratulations George, you've just made me a Rimbaud fan.

You know as well as I do that the feeble-minded travesty of Rimbaud's
poem wasn't created by Dunce, so why are you still slurping the
pathetic thief?

[Michael Pendragon]

On Wednesday, August 3, 2016 at 4:10:09 PM UTC-4, Peter J Ross wrote:
> In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Sun, 31 Jul 2016 21:45:40 -0700 (PDT),
> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>
> > Congratulations George, you've just made me a Rimbaud fan.
>
> You know as well as I do that the feeble-minded travesty of Rimbaud's

> poem wasn't created by Dunce ...

Jealous, Pedo?

George's translation remains true to the text (as represented in several online translations), without abandoning the rhymed-metered form. I strongly suspect that he may even have improved on the original artistically, as his translation has all the power of an original work (much like Fitzgerald's translation of "The Rubaiyat").

Your "translation" (with several lines "borrowed" intact from existing translations) of Sophocles' "Ode to Man" (from "Antigone"), attempted to recast the speech in a sarcastic vein that runs counter to both the author's intention and the general sense of the play.

If you are actually entertaining some hopes of becoming a writer, I suggest you take George's example as a model.

[Peter J Ross]

In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Wed, 3 Aug 2016 13:25:52 -0700 (PDT),
Michael Pendragon wrote:

> Jealous

I know you are.

> Pedo

I hope you're not, but you're trying hard to convince me that you are.


<whinesnip>


WTF is wrong with you, Creepster? 99.999% of people who have
minimum-wage jobs cleaning lavatories and/or fetching coffee for
office clerks refrain from making fools of themselves on Usenet. What
the fuck is wrong with you that makes you decide to be verifiably
inferior to the other 99.999%?

[Michael Pendragon]

On Wednesday, August 3, 2016 at 5:15:35 PM UTC-4, Peter J Ross wrote:

<whinesnip>

[Peter J Ross]

In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Wed, 3 Aug 2016 14:18:26 -0700 (PDT),

Michael Pendragon wrote:

> On Wednesday, August 3, 2016 at 5:15:35 PM UTC-4, Peter J Ross wrote:
>
> <whinesnip>

The Creepster must be desperately short of lame comebacks if even he
can't think of a lame comeback to post.

[Michael Pendragon]

On Wednesday, August 3, 2016 at 5:20:40 PM UTC-4, Peter J Ross wrote:
> In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Wed, 3 Aug 2016 14:18:26 -0700 (PDT),
> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>
> > On Wednesday, August 3, 2016 at 5:15:35 PM UTC-4, Peter J Ross wrote:
> >
> > <whinesnip>
>

> <whinesnip>

Plonk!

[George Dance]

On Wednesday, August 3, 2016 at 4:25:53 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Wednesday, August 3, 2016 at 4:10:09 PM UTC-4, Peter J Ross wrote:
> > In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Sun, 31 Jul 2016 21:45:40 -0700 (PDT),
> > Michael Pendragon wrote:
> >
> > > Congratulations George, you've just made me a Rimbaud fan.
> >
> > You know as well as I do

[IOW, not at all]

> > that the feeble-minded travesty of
> > Rimbaud's
> > poem wasn't created by Dunce ...
>
> Jealous, Pedo?
>

He could be. It's pretty obvious his only reason for calling it a "travesty" is that he really thinks I wrote it.

> George's translation remains true to the text (as represented in several online translations), without abandoning the rhymed-metered form. I strongly suspect that he may even have improved on the original artistically, as his translation has all the power of an original work (much like Fitzgerald's translation of "The Rubaiyat").
>

Thanks again.

> Your "translation" (with several lines "borrowed" intact from existing translations) of Sophocles' "Ode to Man" (from "Antigone"), attempted to recast the speech in a sarcastic vein that runs counter to both the author's intention and the general sense of the play.
>

Oh, but don't forget "Mother, we're running out of things to eat," the "most poetic translation" of Sappho that at least one of his friends has ever seen.

[George Dance]

On Wednesday, August 3, 2016 at 4:06:02 PM UTC-4, Peter J Ross wrote:

>
> As you have admitted, you don't listen to French-language radio. You are therefore
> incapable of translating French.
>
> As has been alleged over and over, just for fun, you have > plagiarised
> repeatedly

Errors of fact corrected, at no charge.

[Peter J Ross]

In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Wed, 3 Aug 2016 14:34:36 -0700 (PDT),

Michael Pendragon wrote:

> On Wednesday, August 3, 2016 at 5:20:40 PM UTC-4, Peter J Ross wrote:
>> In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Wed, 3 Aug 2016 14:18:26 -0700 (PDT),
>> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>>
>> > On Wednesday, August 3, 2016 at 5:15:35 PM UTC-4, Peter J Ross wrote:
>> >
>> > <whinesnip>
>>
>> <whinesnip>
>
> Plonk!

Plink!

[Peter J Ross]

In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Thu, 4 Aug 2016 15:17:25 -0700 (PDT),
George Dance wrote:

> Errors of fact

E.g.

"Dunce writes poetry."

"Dunce sometimes tells the truth."

"Dunce has an IQ greater than 85."

"Dunce can read well enough to understand the above three errors of
fact."

[Peter J Ross]

In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Thu, 4 Aug 2016 14:34:13 -0700 (PDT),

Oh look!

The illiterate, thieving, paedo-enabling clowns are whining and lying
again.

Who could have predicted it?

[Will Dockery]

Michael Pendragon wrote:
>
> If you are actually entertaining some hopes of becoming a writer, I suggest you take George's example as a model.

Good advice for any youngster just starting out.

:)