How I met Bukowski (1 Viewer)

[tkerenyi]

Hi folks,

From UK, (originally hungarian), I started read Bukowski few years ago, and when I finished the books, I translated the Born into this movie to hungarian (so if anybody wants to learn my language can start with that, very funny) and during translate I met the poems, and I said, wow he is the best poet in our times.

 

[tkerenyi]

Hi, the first line "I awakened to dryness and the ferns were dead," that means the room was dry, or means both: Buk was dry (after a heavy drink)?

And "and my landlady’s note cracked in fine and undemanding yellowness" means
"my landlady's notice letter was yellowed and finely cracked"?

Thanks

(why this thread went to the introduce myself?)

 

[zobraks]

(why this thread went to the introduce myself?)

Because your translation problems have more to do with you than with Bukowski.

 

[tkerenyi]

Ok, so it's not the forum for the translation problems?

 

[zobraks]

You can ask for help in this thread.

 

[Purple Stickpin]

"I awakened to dryness and the ferns were dead," that means the room was dry, or means both: Buk was dry (after a heavy drink)?

Hi tkerenyi: Translation is a very difficult thing. It's one thing to translate a simple essay from English to Spanish or even French, but beyond that, translating poetry is full of problems.

This line from Bukowski is classic for him because he is drawing a parallel between how he feels while waking up hungover from drinking and his dead ferns. Basically, everything in his life is ending up the same way. He may also be commenting on the dry Southern California climate, but that's already captured in the dead ferns concept.

And "and my landlady’s note cracked in fine and undemanding yellowness" means
"my landlady's notice letter was yellowed and finely cracked"?

You are being too literal here. The note from his landlady exhibits "yellowness" because her asking for the rent money has been happening over and over so it is "old and tired" in Bukowski's mind. Hence: the yellowness is due to conceptual age.

I would say that "cracked" could mean that it cracked (broke) his spirit - note that "cracked" is being used as a verb and not it's more common use as an adjective. This is also a variant on the term "crackled" which means that the message hit him like a ton of bricks (he'd use a more original phrase than I). It's also a cold ask (from Bukowski's view) and thus the note could be viewed as cracked like ice.

Layers of meaning in poetry make for difficult translation.

 

[d gray]

there's a great line in the movie "Paterson" where the lead character meets a japanese poet who says to him "poetry in translation is like taking a shower with a raincoat on"

 

[bonnie brae]

Paterson is a very underrated Jarmusch film. Adam Driver is excellent in it.

 

[tkerenyi]

there's a great line in the movie "Paterson" where the lead character meets a japanese poet who says to him "poetry in translation is like taking a shower with a raincoat on"

yes, the translation is loss, but still exist

 

[tkerenyi]

Hi tkerenyi: Translation is a very difficult thing. It's one thing to translate a simple essay from English to Spanish or even French, but beyond that, translating poetry is full of problems.

This line from Bukowski is classic for him because he is drawing a parallel between how he feels while waking up hungover from drinking and his dead ferns. Basically, everything in his life is ending up the same way. He may also be commenting on the dry Southern California climate, but that's already captured in the dead ferns concept.

You are being too literal here. The note from his landlady exhibits "yellowness" because her asking for the rent money has been happening over and over so it is "old and tired" in Bukowski's mind. Hence: the yellowness is due to conceptual age.

I would say that "cracked" could mean that it cracked (broke) his spirit - note that "cracked" is being used as a verb and not it's more common use as an adjective. This is also a variant on the term "crackled" which means that the message hit him like a ton of bricks (he'd use a more original phrase than I). It's also a cold ask (from Bukowski's view) and thus the note could be viewed as cracked like ice.

Layers of meaning in poetry make for difficult translation.

bloody hard thing translating especially if you are not native speaker in both languages. I feel so tired from this as if I had been running for a whole week. your answer confused me, what else can be in other Iines. but many thanks!

 

[d gray]

yes, the translation is loss, but still exist

please post your translated versions here when they're done.

i'm very interested to see what you come up with.

 

[tkerenyi]

in hungarian? that will be funny, or I can tranlate back but that's will be more weird

 

[d gray]

do yours in hungarian then get someone else to translate them back to english.

that would be really interesting.

 

[tkerenyi]

Charles Bukowski: Tévedtem

felnyúltam a szekrény tetejére.
és levettem egy kék bugyit.
megmutattam neki.
azt kérdeztem: "ez a tied?"
ő pedig ránézett és azt mondta,
"nem, ez egy kutyáé."
ezután elment, és azóta nem láttam.
nincs a lakásán.
folyton odamegyek, és üzeneteket hagyok az ajtórésbe csúsztatva. mikor visszamegyek, a cetlik
még mindig ott vannak.
levágom a Máltai keresztet a kocsim tükréről, rákötöm a kilincshez egy cipőfűzővel, és otthagyok egy verseskötetet.
amikor másnap este visszatérek,
még mindig minden ugyanott van.
járom az utcákat a kocsival, keresem
a vörösbor színű cirkálót amit vezet,
azt aminek gyenge az akkumulátora, és az ajtajai törött zsanérokon lógnak.
hajtok az utcákon mindenfelé,
egy hajszálnyira a sírástól,
szégyenkezve az érzelgősségem,
és feltehetőleg a szerelem miatt.
egy összezavarodott öregember
az esőben vezet,
azon tűnődve,
hová lett a szerencse.

 

[tkerenyi]

This one was too hard, need help, from:
Shoelace

"and plenty of zigzag but no
pot, except maybe one to piss in
and the other one around your
gut."

Zigzag - cigarette paper?
Pot - weed?
One to piss in - toilet?
Other one around your gut - bellypot?

 

[Rekrab]

Yes on all four questions.

 

[Erik]

Other one around your gut - bellypot?

Not bellypot but pot belly.

 

[tkerenyi]

Yes silly me, I meant the pot belly :)

So:

"plenty of cigarette paper, but no weed, and you have just a toliet bowl to piss in, and one pot belly around your gut?"

Not was easy to translate this, of course if I understand well ?

 

[d gray]

yes that's what he's saying but without the poetry.

actually, that line is a perfect example of why translating poetry is pointless. the strength - or poetry - in that line is bukowski using the same word - "pot" - to express three different things - one positive - having weed to smoke - one practical - having a toilet to piss in - and one negative - having a fat stomach.

you can communicate what he's saying but there's no art in it.

it's like taking a photograph of a cornfield with crows flying over it and thinking you're going to capture the essence of a Van Gogh painting.

hence the excellent "raincoat in the shower" metaphor.

but i have a feeling this won't deter our hungarian friend from his mission.

which leads me to realize that my mission here is also a waste of time.

would that qualify as "ironic?" i'm never sure i'm using that word correctly.

 

[tkerenyi]

So, yes you are right, but I'm not the first hun who tried translate this genius, and at least im the one who understand this lines. The true translation (and the magic) is that when you can say on another language what the poet said. I show you what an another hungarian "titan" made with this:

"and lots of serpentine, but no grass,
there might be a place to pee,
unless you're already defecating through a pipe
out of your belly."

 

[Erik]

Translation of poetry should be like a cover-version of a song.
I know cover-versions of Dylan songs that I like better than the original.
And I know poetry translations of Blake to Norwegian tht I like better than the original too.
Anyway - poetry "translation" is best done by a poet.

 

[tkerenyi]

I'm not a poet, but I published a few poems and short stories in Hungary in some literature magazines, and I have Burroughs translations too. So my sins are many.

 

[tkerenyi]

Im totally lost on the end this poem, so "stabbed? and shaved?, to teach words?, propped up to die???? But the cave part is blurry: "a last man's cave in an eternity of bustle and explosion?

2 p.m. beer

nothing matters
but flopping on a mattress
with cheap dreams and a beer
as the leaves die and the horses die
and the landladies stare in the halls;
brisk the music of pulled shades,
a last man’s cave
in an eternity of swarm
and explosion;
nothing but the dripping sink,
the empty bottle,
euphoria,
youth fenced in,
stabbed and shaven,
taught words
propped up
to die.

 

[Rekrab]

"a last man’s cave
in an eternity of swarm
and explosion;"

The "cave" is a quiet, secluded place where one of the few men who is not caught up in the insanity of our culture can hide from the endless noise and chaos of the masses. Basically, he's saying he stays in his apartment to avoid being around other people.

 

[Father Luke]

Charles Bukowski: Tévedtem

felnyúltam a szekrény tetejére.
és levettem egy kék bugyit.
megmutattam neki.
azt kérdeztem: "ez a tied?"
ő pedig ránézett és azt mondta,
"nem, ez egy kutyáé."
ezután elment, és azóta nem láttam.
nincs a lakásán.
folyton odamegyek, és üzeneteket hagyok az ajtórésbe csúsztatva. mikor visszamegyek, a cetlik
még mindig ott vannak.
levágom a Máltai keresztet a kocsim tükréről, rákötöm a kilincshez egy cipőfűzővel, és otthagyok egy verseskötetet.
amikor másnap este visszatérek,
még mindig minden ugyanott van.
járom az utcákat a kocsival, keresem
a vörösbor színű cirkálót amit vezet,
azt aminek gyenge az akkumulátora, és az ajtajai törött zsanérokon lógnak.
hajtok az utcákon mindenfelé,
egy hajszálnyira a sírástól,
szégyenkezve az érzelgősségem,
és feltehetőleg a szerelem miatt.
egy összezavarodott öregember
az esőben vezet,
azon tűnődve,
hová lett a szerencse.

Okay. I put this into a translate back into English translater…


Charles Bukowski: I was wrong

I reached up to the top of the cupboard.
and took off a pair of blue panties.
I showed her.
I said, "Is this yours?"
And he looked at it and said,
"No, it's a dog's."
and then she left and I haven't seen her since.
It's not in his apartment.
i keep going there and leaving notes slipped in the door crack. when i go back, the notes
are still there.
I cut the Maltese cross off my car mirror, tie it to the doorknob with a shoelace, and leave a book of poetry.
When I return the next evening,
everything is still in the same place.
I wander the streets in my car, looking for
for the red wine-colored cruiser he drives,
the one with the low battery and the doors hanging on broken hinges.
I'm driving down the streets all over the place,
a hair's breadth from crying,
ashamed of my sentimentality,
and presumably of love.
a confused old man
driving in the rain,
wondering,
wondering where his luck has gone.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)

 

[tkerenyi]

Yes, on some place needed to make some alteration, by the way: the "inch" thing is "hair" in hungarian, and the car nickname is different