Heather Green

 

LESSONS IN TRANSLATION TECHNIQUES:

THE BRIDGE

TRANSLATING THE BOOK OF HIS ZEAL

A TREE STRUCTURE SPLITS INTO TWO OTHERS.

ONCE, A DEVOTEE RAN OUT FROM THE FUSELAGE, THE WINGS AFFIXED WITH SMALL PIECES OF WIRE.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LESSONS IN TRANSLATION TECHNIQUES:

 

the absence of numbers at the mouth. 

 

These dwellings that wound near the riverbank –

 

a knife, scraping implements, arrowheads,

 

teeth, and soda-can pull-tabs

 

to ward off what grows when you spit the seed out –

 

They sew themselves,

 

paint themselves, invisible to the naked eye. 

 

The best guess: their language retreated deep into the jungle,

 

displayed phonemes and sharp intakes of breath. 

 

Individual words were hard to learn. 

 

The words differ only in pitch: tongues women use than men do. 

 

We struggled of a grammar –

 

The Book of halting, it was just a story, replaced the standard answer. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

THE BRIDGE

 

No memory, no myths,

no myths,

 

few before the forest,

no fixed words for colors. 

 

A red cup looks like blood. 

Extract a red dye. 

 

The first year tutored herself,

listening slightly. 

 

The room could be locked. 

 

The second year borrowed a boat

from the river soon before joining him,

 

the joy beaten to death. 

ThatÕs what you do for God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

TRANSLATING THE BOOK OF HIS ZEAL

 

Tending house,

 

he found a month,

 

a year, were hardly time

 

to imagine new numbers: 

 

one, two, and many,

 

but with an important difference. 

 

 

He sat across from himself and had the match array.

 

The array consisted of one at a time. 

 

He asked the subject whether fewer was right.

 

 

It bleeds over. 

 

They donÕt show any of that: 

 

the century, the words,

 

the coterie of world

 

did not share his enthusiasm. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

A TREE STRUCTURE SPLITS INTO TWO OTHERS.

 

ThatÕs a tree structure,

 

thoughts inside of other thoughts

 

absent from their syntax,

 

excoriated,

 

troubled by paper. 

 

ItÕs really very important to know that itÕs a question. 

 

A child at birth would have no trouble tongue. 

 

They understand how to catch and avoid,

 

no tools or weapons,

 

and out-survive the acquisition of language. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

ONCE, A DEVOTEE RAN OUT FROM THE FUSELAGE, THE WINGS AFFIXED WITH SMALL PIECES OF WIRE.

 

Have you met this man? 

 

Failure, a future, the boysÕ model airplanes,

the momentary burst

of the sight of an actual plane. 

 

This was a conundrum outside of their core grammar. 

 

A never-ending sentence, 

a little too long to generate unlimited meaning,

calls the infinite finite. 

 

Do not insert thoughts inside one another down by the river

get bitten by a snake.