Translations in to Portuguese language (1 Viewer)

What you think about that translation?

CONFESSION

waiting for death
like a cat
that will jump on the
bed
I am so very sorry for
my wife
she will see this
stiff
white
body
shake it once, then
maybe
again:
"Hank!"
Hank won't
answer.
it's not my death that
worries me, it's my wife
left with this
pile of nothing.
I want to
let her know
though
that all the nights
sleeping
beside her
even the useless
arguments
were things
ever splendid
and the hard
words
I ever feared to
say
can now be
said:
I love
you.

#

CONFISSÃO


À espera da morte
como um gato
que vai saltar na
cama
estou muito pesaroso
pela minha mulher
ela verá este
corpo
duro
e branco
uma vez e
talvez outra
o abanará
"Henri!"
o Henri não
responderá.
Não é a minha morte que
me preocupa, é minha mulher
sozinha com esta
pira de nada
não obstante
eu quero
que ela saiba
que dormir
todas as noites
ao seu lado
e mesmo os mais inábeis
argumentos
foram coisas
sempre esplêndidas
e as palavras
difíceis
que temi sempre
dizer
podem agora ser
ditas:
Amo
te.
(Tradução: J.T.Parreira)
 
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Como um altofalante português nativo, eu tomo o ressentimento no garrido e na licença imprudente tomados com este trabalho esteemed. Lembra um de cascas alaranjadas e das terras de café espalhadas sobre o brinde frio. Certamente.
 
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Hank or Henry

I used Henri ou Henry, because in Portuguese language Hank is unknow. Sorry, Ponder.

mjp, gostaria de entender o comentário.

Thanks.
J.
 
mjp, gostaria de entender o comentário.
That makes two of us.

The English translation is:

As a native Portuguese speaker, I take umbrage at the brash and reckless license taken with this esteemed work. It reminds one of orange rinds and coffee grounds spread over cold toast. Indeed.

But I was merely attempting humor. Forgive me.

I spent 14 years in Portugal, but unfortunately, all of that time was spent in Angra do Heroísmo prison. I believe that the primary language spoken there is a mix of Portuguese, Creole, Chinese, rural Texas English and Nigerian Igbo, which makes for quite a spicy stew, wouldn't you agree?

Life was difficult there, as I was confined to a 3 by 5 foot cell with six other inmates for 23 hours of every day. It wouldn't have been so bad, but one of the men had a terrible habit of picking at his toes, and raising one's foot in such conditions causes a veritable chain reaction of discomfort that ripples through the cell quite rapidly. The remaining hour each day we were allowed to shower, all seven of us simultaneously, in a 3 by 3 foot stall. Cooperation is essential under such circumstances, and modesty must be left at the door, I assure you.

One day a month we were allowed outdoors, though invariably it was raining. The rain fell down the color of rust, and burned one's skin. I suspect that condition was caused by the toxic smoke that flowed unabated from the Nike shoe factory on the prison grounds. Trustees, traffic offenders and homosexuals were allowed to work at the factory for 12 escudos a month. It was quite a sought after job, as you might imagine.

For breakfast we were served a cup of steam, and for dinner six days a week we were given ferret tacos and three ounces of warm orange Kool Aid. On Sundays we would get a special dinner of tree bark and goat's milk.

I can't say I have many fond memories of Portugal, but that's not your fault.
 
Henry Miller Portuguese

CUANDO MERDA TIVER VALOR POBRE NASCE SEM CU
Printed at the bottom of Henry Miller's stationery.
 
Translation to Portuguese language: Poem 3:30 A.M.Conversation

3:30 A.M. Conversation

Charles Bukowski

at 3:30 a.m. in the morning
a door opens
and feet come down the hall
moving a body,
and there is a knock
and you put down your beer
and answer.

god damn it, she says,
dont' you ever sleep?

and she walks in
her hair in curlers
and herself in a silk robe
covered with rabbits and birds

and she has brought her own bottle
to which you splendidly add
2 glasses;
her husband, she says, is in Florida
and the sister sends her money and dresses and
she has been looking for a job
for 32 days.

you tell her
you are a jockey's agent and a
writer of jazz and love songs,
and after a couple of drinks
she doesn't bother to cover
her legs
with the edge of the robe
that keeps falling away.

they are not bad legs at all,
in fact, very good legs,
and soon your are kissing a
head full of curlers.

and the rabbits are beginning
to wink, and Florida is a long way
away, and she says we are not strangers
really because shes has seem me in the hall.

and finally
there is very little
to say.



Conversa às 3:30 da manhã

Às 3:30 da manhã
a porta abre-se para uns pés
no corredor arrastando um corpo
soa um toque
descansas a tua cerveja
e vais responder.

Caramba! Diz ela,
você nunca tem sono?

E vai entrando com papelotes
nos cabelos
ela mesma é uma veste de seda
coberta com pássaros e coelhos

Ela trouxe a sua própria garrafa
a que juntas com magnificência
2 copos;
o marido, diz ela, está na Florida
a irmã envia-lhe dinheiro e vestidos
e ela tem procurado um emprego
há 32 dias.

Tu contas-lhe
que és corrector de apostas e um
compositor de jazz e de canções de amor,
e depois de alguns copos
ela não se incomoda com cobrir
as pernas
com a orla do roupão sempre a afastar-se.

Não são nada mal feitas, suas pernas
de facto, são perfeitas
e em breve tu estás a beijar uma
cabeça cheia de pedaços de papel.

E os coelhos estão a começar
a piscar, e a Florida é uma longa
ausência, diz ela nós não somos estranhos
até porque me tem visto no corredor.

E finalmente
há muito pouco
para dizer.


Tradução de J.T.Parreira



Literary note:
work done from the version in Spanish and English.
 
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Thank God, we all speak Portuguese here, otherwise it would've been a waste of time...:rolleyes:
 
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Translations in to Portuguese language.

Thank God that a large part of the world's population speaks Portuguese, Europe, Africa, America, Oceania. And the importance of a great poet as Bukowski deserves the translation. Tomorrow, I publish another translation.
 
But not here.


No offense, this just isn't the place for it. Besides, according to the comment from the only person in this thread who could probably understand your translations, it seems that you aren't very good at them.
 
Hi,
I curious why you changed "Hank" to "Henri" and said that the name "Hank" is not known in Portuguese, yet translated "Safeway" which is the name of a grocery store chain in the US (Unless they have "Safeways" in Brazil....)

I have mad respect for people that can translate poetry well. I understand that translating poetry is the HARDEST translation that can be done, as you are not just translating words and sentences, but sounds and metaphors.

Bill
 
I've always wanted to read Rimbaud and Baudelaire in French. Just an educated guess, but the flow of their poems has to take a hit when translated to English...a bit of the magic lost...

Back in my salad days, one of my ports of call was Lisboa. Great place, save for Angra do Heroísmo prison. One night there, with some crazy American, and my life was changed. I began reading a rogue American writer. Can't recall his name, though "” either of 'em...

Pax

homeless mind
 
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Some translations are just as good as the original. Take James Michie. I remember studying his translations of Catullus alongside the Latin at school, and being impressed. Baudelaire's translations of Edgar Allen Poe are another story...
 
That is a great article.

Thank you kindly, P.

What stuck in my throat was this:

In 1964, Hart-Davis brought out Michie's translations of Horace's Odes. Many of these versions are fully rhymed, with couplets much favoured: this, together with the tendency of the English to extend the originals, has the effect of smoothing and rounding the odes in a way the Latin does not. Often the rhyming is ingenious, though the freedom of its occasional absence also brings benefits. Thirteen of the odes, eleven of them Alcaics, are in the original metre.

Unbelievable, almost. Certainly remarkable.

Again, thanks for sharing. I'm on the lookout now for Mr. Michie's translations.

Pax
 
Buk as a poet needs a literal translation, at same time the social and historical interpretation of his poems.

I have mad respect for people that can translate poetry well. I understand that translating poetry is the HARDEST translation that can be done, as you are not just translating words and sentences, but sounds and metaphors.
For example:

"a door opens
and feet come down the hall
moving a body,"

Metaphoric translation:

"a porta abre-se para uns pés
no corredor arrastando um corpo"

or:

"waiting for death
like a cat
that will jump on the
bed"

Literal translation(Words and sentences):


"À espera da morte
como um gato
que vai saltar na
cama"

All best
João
 
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Well, that will be meaningless to Bill and 99.99% of the other people here. These should be on a Portuguese web site somewhere. Why you fail to understand that is a mystery.
 
How would you translate the following:

He was pissed
that he dropped a deuce on the trifecta
and went to the can to take a piss.


This is by me, not Buk, but it shows why you have to have an intimate knowledge of both languages to do a real translation.

How do you translate piss and pissed? Can? dropped? Deuce? How about Trifecta?

I could not do it as I only know one language, but I understand that most people that think that they can translate poetry cannot do it well.

Bill
 
I work as a translator sometimes. I've never attempted poetry, but I suspect the hardest part isn't vocabulary, even if it's idiom and slang. As a rule anyone who does this kind of work for a living has spent time studying their source language in the country where it's spoken, and has presumably picked this up. But even if you don't know the word off the top of your head, there are always dictionaries to help. In France, for example, to piss= pisser, pissed off = emmerdé, go to the can= aller aux chiottes, trifecta: tiercé etc.

The difficult part would be getting the style and meter right. That's why I hold a guy like Michie in such high esteem. To do justice to the original, the translator has to be a good writer him/herself. I don't speak a word of Portuguese, so no opinion on JTP's work.

To bring this back to Buk, I know he owed a great deal of his success to the work of his German translator, Carl Weissner. I haven't read any Buk in German. Any of the other forum members have an opinion on Carl?
 
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The English translation is:

As a native Portuguese speaker, I take umbrage at the brash and reckless license taken with this esteemed work. It reminds one of orange rinds and coffee grounds spread over cold toast. Indeed.

But I was merely attempting humor. Forgive me.

I spent 14 years in Portugal, but unfortunately, all of that time was spent in Angra do Heroísmo prison. [...]
I think this is the funniest things I've read on this board. Not including all of my posts, of course.
 
To bring this back to Buk, I know he owed a great deal of his success to the work of his German translator, Carl Weissner. I haven't read any Buk in German. Any of the other forum members have an opinion on Carl?

He did a good job. As good as possible, probably. He discovered B. and made his way in Germany. The translations are different, of course, but, as we pointed out, this is unavoidable. Sometimes you (or I, that is) get the feeling of him somehow simplifying the language and the whole feeling through the translation. That used to piss me off, because I thought it was one of the main reasons for the "Bukowski is only about boozing and whores"-chliche here in the german speaking countries. Now that I see this cliche so widely spread in the US too, I no longer think it's Weissners fault. It was my fault to think so. It must be something else. Only reading a couple of poems or stories half blind, probably.

Although why a master poem like "Something for the Touts, the Nuns, the Grocery Clerks, And You" has obviously not been translated into German, I'll never understand.
 
Weissner probably gave it a try, then he saw the translation sucked and said, "uh-oh, I'm skipping this one. Sorry, Hank." ;)

You know, my Harrap's English/Spanish dictionary -the best one when it comes to slang- does not have a word for "tout" (assuming it's used in the racing context). Here's the definition:
(a) Br (ticket) tout reventa mf
(b) (for bar, hotel, timeshare) buscador(ora) m,f de clientes
(c) (in racing) = persona que vende información privilegiada sobre las apuestas en las carreras de caballos

Maybe you do have a word for "tout" in German, but if you don't, then it's not easy to translate that poem.
 
To be or not to be poet

I work as a translator sometimes. I've never attempted poetry, but I suspect the hardest part isn't vocabulary, even if it's idiom and slang. (...)
I work as a translator sometimes, not professionally, but for love, because I am poet.
I invite you to [try to find me. -ed.]
JTP
 
Weissner's English to German

I know a very small bit of German and this is a question for Roni or Johannes rather than me, but out of curiosity I opened up Notes of A Dirty Old Man in English at random[which is translated as Aufzeichnungen eines Aussenseiters--Notes of an Outsider ] and compared Weissner's translation. Here's the opening of the story on page 23:
"it was hot in there. I went to the piano and played the piano. I didn't know how to play the piano. I just hit the keys. some people danced on the couch. then I looked under the piano and saw a girl stretched out under there, her dress up around her hips. I played with one hand, reached under and copped a feel with the other..."
Weissner:
"Es war heiss in der Bude. Ich ging ans Klavier und fing an zu spielen. Hatte natuerlich keine Anhnung von Klavierspielen; ich haemmerte einfach auf die Tasten. Ein paar Leute tanzten auf der Couch. Irgendwann schaute ich zufaellig mal unters Piano, und da hatte sich ein Madchen lang gelegt, ihr Kleid war bis ueber die Hueften hochgerutscht. Ich spielte mit einer Hand weiter und langte mit der anderen runter und fummelte eine bisschen."

The first line in the original is "it was hot in there" but I assume that Weissner thought this was too vague and changed it to "Bude" which is "room." In the second sentence, Weissner does not repeat the second "piano." Next sentence in English is "I didn't know how to play the piano" which Weissner changes to "hatte natuerlich" which is "I naturally had no idea how to play the piano." "I just hit the keys" is a separate sentence but Weissner connects it to the previous clause with a semicolon.
"Some people danced on the couch" is exactly translated by "Ein paar..."
"Then" in next sentence becomes "irgendwann" which means "sometimes" and adds "zuefallig" which means "coincidentally."
"I played with one hand" becomes "spielte...weiter" which means "I continued to play..."
The idiomatic "copped a feel" in English of course can't be translated and becomes "fummelte" can be fumble, but also with an erotic meaning.

I also just noticed that in the original there is an intentional repetition of "piano" which Weissner softens by leaving out the repetition and he also shifts from "Klavier" to "piano" for no clear reason.
I think one could do a much more exact translation of this passage. I wonder why it wasn't done this way? When Buk wants a short sentence, why change it to a longer one with a semicolon? Maybe one of the professional translators can explain this to me, but I don't see the need here to change the original.

OK, this is very elementary and we need a real German speaker to untangle all this but this was a bit of a surprise to me since there are alot of changes in terms of syntax and language structure and repetition.. etc.
 
That's like stealing?

"Charles Bukowski manuscript archive

Access to this collection is granted for research and educational purposes only."

I think not, I used the manuscript in order to disseminate the poem by Bukowski, just that. Isn't to commercial use. Okay, Mr. Gerard Love?
 
I work as a translator sometimes, not professionally, but for love, because I am poet.
"because I am poet" - beautiful. And a perfect example of why you could never translate something from English. You can't even speak English.

That's not an insult, it's an example of why translation will always be a rough interpretation of the original work. I know plenty of bilingual people - people who were brought up from birth speaking both English and Spanish, but they grew up in America, and as a result, they are not fluent in Spanish. Not fluent like someone who came of age in the culture. They tell me this themselves, this is not a conclusion I came to.

There is so much nuance in poetry. I don't see how anyone can translate a poem from their second (or third or fourth) language to their native language. What's the point anyway? Write a new poem in your native language. It all seems like a dull scholastic exercise to me.

Technical, scientific, political writing - those need to be translated. And a story is a story, you can tell a novel length story and get the gist across while butchering the original subtleties (as in the Weissner example above). But poetry - I don't understand. What's the point? It's like making a copy of a great painting, only doing it in a regional style. You know, so the locals will be comfortable with it. It's kind of like the original work, but it's really something else completely.
 
I think I said this a couple of years ago, but I'm not sure: Leopoldo María Panero -a crazy Spanish poet who's been in a mental ward for 30 or so years- called his translations "perversions." He read the original and then went on to "recreate" it with his own words. He did not deconstruct the original, he simply destroyed it and then built it up again. Or something like that.
 
David, your German is excellent even in the details.
only two things:

[...] "Then" in next sentence becomes "irgendwann" which means "sometimes"

in this case it means "after a little while". Of course this is different than "then", but still closer than "sometimes".

[...] "I played with one hand" becomes "spielte...weiter" which means "I continued to play..."

His whole sentence is, as you quoted before: "Ich spielte mit einer Hand weiter" which does mean "with one hand".

[...] there are alot of changes in terms of syntax and language structure and repetition.. etc.

These are even very small changes compared to many others he did.
And of course - it's especially the poems when Weissners translations become very 'free'. (The German word for this style of 'translating' is "Nachdichtung" which more or less means "adaptation". It's not uncommon for poetry.)

You're right, some changes aren't really necessary. And escpecially in cases where Buk does something intentionally, like the repeating of the piano, we should be critical.

But still - sometimes a 'free translation'/'adaption' hits the feeling of a different language much better.

Plus: don't forget, this translation dates from 1970. It's strange but a fact, that translations tend to sound 'aged' much faster than the original texts.


It's always easy to find something in translations, that I myself would make different. But as a whole, I must say that Weissner got the works right. They are a pleasure to read for Germans and transport the 'feeling' of the texts for German ears.

I still like to read Hanks prose in translation.
It's only the poems, where I avoid doing so.
But even those aren't too bad. It's a hard job and he did very well.


ps:
right now I'm reading 'Hollywood' for the first time in English. A lot of things turn out to be better of course, but some really worked better for me in German. (yes, I said 'better')

And in case anybody of you has ever wondered how sudden this book starts ("A couple of days later ...") - the German translation, as always, follows the original manuscript: and this one has a whole page before that start, telling about Pinchot calling him and asking to write a screenplay. I don't know why this was left out in the English version.
 
JTPxx.jpg

João Tomaz Parreira
Okay. You are okay.
 
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"because I am poet" - beautiful.

MJP, what you think of this poem I wrote in your language?

Steinway & Sons

Three legs of the Steinway
raise a symphony of birds
in the veins above of the floor

the elegant legs
of the Steinway
as a woman

whom we listened
slowly
in its black dress.

(J.T.Parreira)
 
If I might add a couple of thoughts:

Personally, I find the use of the phrase "of the Steinway" a second time awkward. As a matter of fact, the whole line "of the Steinway" in the second stanza is probably unnecessary, although that removes your three lines per stanza format. Maybe "of the wood" instead?

In the last stanza, to be more proper English, it could either read "To whom we listened" or "Who we listened to."

I hope you don't mind my thoughts and critique.
 

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