Episode 128 - Found in Translation

There is a poem by Pablo Neruda which I have always loved. It’s called; Tonight I can Write. Well actually that’s not exactly correct. It’s really called; Puedo Escribir. You see, Pablo Neruda was Chilean and as such, he wrote in Spanish. This fascinates me. That I can read a work of art in a language it wasn’t written and yet still see its beauty. It also raises an important question; who is to credit for its beauty, the author or the translator? The poem was translated by William Stanley Merwin, who was a celebrated poet in his own right, and yet is rarely thought of when considering this great work of poetry. Perhaps rightly so. The poem although translated is still clearly that of the author and so first and foremost he deserves the credit, just as it is. After all, a bad poem cannot be made a good one even by the most skilled translator. Yet, by equal measure, a good poem can very easily be ruined by a bad translation. And so I think great credit deserves to go to W. S. Merwin for not just bringing a classic poem to those of us who do not speak Spanish, but for creating a beautiful poem that well resembles the original by doing so.

This thought of the translators shared labour along with that of the author in order to produce something of worth and value has long stayed with me. In many ways my life is a poem, and I am a translator. God made me, and He made me to be like Him. The bible refers to us as God’s craftsmanship, His work of art and a reflection of Himself. But whether or not what God made me to be is lived out by what I say and what I do, is dependent upon me. Will I be a good translation or a bad one?