Things

Listening to the translated poetry at the Jaipur Literature Festival reminds me of how bizarre I find the idea of translating texts. So much of the meaning and imagery evoked from prose is released by the specific words the author chooses. How can some third party possibly capture whatever beauty or pain the author is trying to express? I suppose they manage, as reading a translated version of Homer’s Iliad certainly feels authentic enough. But maybe Homer’s concept of Achilles’ horse was more magnificent than splendid. Perhaps Priam was meant to be prudent, not wise. I wonder how many of those subtle yet important (to me at least, and probably also Homer) get lost in translation.