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Lidia Vianu - Director of CTITC (CENTRE FOR THE TRANSLATION AND INTERPRETATION OF THE CONTEMPORARY TEXT), Bucharest University, Professor of Contemporary British Literature at the English Department of Bucharest University, Member of the Writers’ Union, Romania.

 

 
 
 
 
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CTITC

CENTRE FOR THE TRANSLATION AND INTERPRETATION OF THE CONTEMPORARY TEXT
CENTRUL PENTRU TRADUCEREA SI INTERPRETAREA TEXTULUI CONTEMPORAN

 

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 TRANSLATION CAFÉ 


 

MTTLC
MA Programme for the

TRANSLATION OF THE CONTEMPORARY LITERARY TEXT

Review of Contemporary Texts in Translation and E-Learning

 

Parallel translations

 

GEORGE SZIRTES

The Child as Metaphor


The child pushed out the boat of his small voice
To see how far it would go. It floated free
Of him, drifting between blocks of ice.

Endangered voice on an indifferent sea
Turning its vast grey back: how would he sound
At the pole where so many had died already?

Under the ice fish screamed at newly drowned
Babies. Whales clicked their tongues and boomed
Disapproval. Creatures with teeth unbound

Their powers and terrifying voices loomed
Like buildings. It seemed the world was against him,
That any child's voice as small as his was doomed

Because there at the arctic all chances are slim
And everything, even love, freezes and disappears
Or snaps in two as the long night draws in.

So she listened to the deep voiced-child. Her ears
Were muffed against the cold but there, and there!
She heard him and she leaned down with her spears

Poised over the water. Mothers, the air
Is dangerous at the north pole. The metaphor
That is your son is crying out. Beware.

GEORGE SZIRTES

Copilul ca metafora


Copilul impinse in larg barca plapandei sale voci
Sa vaza cat de departe va ajunge. Aceasta se desprinse dara
Alunecand usor prin sloiurile mari si reci.

Glas la ananghie pe-o mare complet nepasatoare
Ce spatele-si intoarse, vast si sur; cum oare ar suna
La pol unde atatia pierisera deja pe mare?

Sub gheata pestii racnira la pruncii abia-necati.
Balenele-si plescaira limbile si bombanira
A dezaprobare. Monstri cu colti ascutiti

Se dezlantuira si glasuri inspaimantatoare se-naltara
Ca niste edificii. Parea ca lumea-i statea impotriva,
Ca orice glas asa plapand pierzaniei-l sortea.

Caci acolo, la pol, soarta cea buna-i firava
Si totul, iubirea insasi, ingheata si piere
Ori crapa in doua cand noaptea cea lunga se lasa.

Asa ca ea lua aminte la copilul cu glas adanc, in tacere.
Desi bine pazite de ger, urechile-i deaodata tresarira
Il auzi si se-apleca cu harpoanele-n buna pastrare

Peste apa. Mamelor, vazduhul primejdie inseamna
Acolo, la polul nord. Metafora ce-i
Pruncul vostru va cheama. Bagati de seama.


Traducere:
Ileana Botescu-Sireteanu (PhD student)


 

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