Poetry is an incredibly condensed form of literature. Each word carefully tailor-fitted to make each stanza a whole. Like the saying goes: “God is in the details”. However, when talking about translation, things go awry. The example of the Bible, with over hundreds of different versions and texts emerging from the simple act of translation. The phrase, “lost in translation” truly becomes a reality. The words that may rhyme in one language may distort in another. Rhyme in one language almost becomes useless as it loses its effect in another. One might even extend the same to connotation or internal rhyme. Despite this, I realise that the hardest job is to be the translator, ensuring that the message is still conveyed despite the language barrier.
Poetry lost in translation is however a beautiful thing. It adds a layer of complexity, a layer of misguided truth. The translated version is a version of the poem by another. In a way, the translation of a poem is an analysis of it redrafted into the translation. Therefore, analysing an already analysed poem seems like a feat that is difficult, yet we are able to do it. It brings a deeper sense of meaning to the piece, which condenses the condensed into a careful explanation of the double meanings.
