Artwork by Aysha Tufa

I’m spending my weekend popping in and out of varied sessions of the Footscray Arts Centres West Writers Forum – the description for a workshop I made it to today reflected on language:

As our world grows smaller and people become more familiar with one another through daily cross-cultural interactions, what stops us from finding ourselves or losing ourselves in each other’s stories? Is translation the final frontier in creative writing? Can we achieve fluid creative and cultural exchanges through the translation of stories? Or will some things always remain lost in translation? Join moderator Mridula Nath Chakraborty in conversation with academics Sanaz Fotouhi and Dr Nadia Niaz, Lily Yulianti Farid and Josiane Behmoiras for this panel.

 Lots of different ideas came through –

The minute you write – let it go.
It will mean something different to every reader.
You can put forward your intention for the words
but that may or may not be picked up.

Josianne Behmoiras

Contextual translation is more important that word-by-word.
You need to translate meaning to a medium your audience can understand…

The interpreter makes their own “work”.

Dr Nadia Niaz

The original word in Buginese “Mukkunrai”
had to remain to carry the meaning – the English translation
“female” doesn’t capture all of the cultural meaning.
(on the title of her short story collection)

Lily Youlanti

All of us find ourselves constantly
translating and transitioning,
asking: “Where do I sit?”

Sanaz Fotouhi

This quote got shared; Charles Simic’s take on the magical absurdity of translating poetry: “It’s that pigheaded effort to convey in words of another language not only the literal meaning of a poem but an alien way of seeing things … To translate is not only to experience what makes each language distinct, but to draw close to the mystery of the relationship between word and thing, letter and spirit, self and world.” (and the article I found it in from The New Yorker mentions many of the panel-referenced works re the translation movement in Japan).

This panel of five had cultural tails in the following languages: French, Hebrew, Latino, Turkish, Kurdish, Buginese, Bahasa, Urdu, Bengali and more I’m sure… a lot of the focus of the session was around translating into English and how you break into, speak into, build an audience amongst English (white middle-class) readers (they are mostly the ones buying books/running the theatres/festivals/publishing houses, etc.).

I found myself thinking about Te Reo Māori (the native language of New Zealand where I am from) and how few speakers there are – there is a need to find reasons to use this language.  What might it look like to translate poems – not word for word – but their meaning.   This kind of interpretation lends itself to crafting something new. What does it mean to take the words I have written to be grounded back into where I come from? What might I discover through that process? Like the Treaty of Waitangi we will end up with 3 versions: original English, Māori translation and then a translation of the Māori back into English… apologies to anyone fluent in Māori who reads these as I’m bound to make gaffes in grammar and word choice… {if you want to collaborate on correct translations get in touch!}

i.

I sit down in the middle of the river

The river sits in the middle of me

Won’t you come and sit by the river?

Sit by the river awhile with me

ii.

Enoho au ki roto i te awa
Aparima enohoana ki roto iho
Haere tahi i roto ki te awa?
Haere mai ki te Mātāpuna a muri ngākau ahau

iii.

I sit down in the middle of the river
Aparima* sits always at the heart of who I am
Will you keep me company at the river?
You are welcome at the Source that sits at the heart of me

(* Aparima is the name of the river that I identify with in my mihi, it denotes the acknowledgment of place/where I am from)

i.

There is Room at the Table (originally written as a song to welcome asylum seekers/boat people coming to Australia, used at a Welcome Picnic outside a local detention centre)

There is room at the table x3
Let them in, let them stay

There is room at the border x3
Let them in, let them stay

There is room in our hearts x3
Let them in, let them stay

There is hope for a new tomorrow x3
Let them in, let them stay

ii.

He wāhi anō kai roto i te tēpu mo tētahi atu tangata?
Haere mai ra, haere mai ra, haere mai ra
Haere mai, nau mai, e ngā iwi e

He wāhi anō kai roto i te rohe mo tētahi atu tangata?
Haere mai ra, haere mai ra, haere mai ra
Haere mai, nau mai, e ngā iwi e

He wāhi anō kai roto i te to tatou ngākau mo tētahi atu tangata?
Haere mai ra, haere mai ra, haere mai ra
Haere mai, nau mai, e ngā iwi e

Nāu te rourou, nāku te rourou ka ora te manuwhiri
Haere mai ra, haere mai ra, haere mai ra
Haere mai, nau mai, e ngā iwi e

iii.

Is there space at the table for one more person?
Welcome, everyone is welcome

Is there space at the border for one more person?
Welcome, everyone is welcome

Is there space in our hearts for one more person?
Welcome, everyone is welcome

We will all contribute what we have and there will be enough to share
Welcome, everyone is welcome

Queries:

What is notable about the differences in the English translations?

What does such an exercise tell us about the significance of interpretation in translation?

If you look up mihi (tradition Maori introduction – reference in poem 1) and karanga (traditional Maori welcome – style observed in poem 2), does this change your understanding of these poems meaning? How?

Any reflections on Simic’s idea that: “To translate is not only to experience what makes each language distinct, but to draw close to the mystery of the relationship between word and thing, letter and spirit, self and world.”?