Awoke bright and early this morning and, reached to my bookshelf for a book of Rilke's poetry. My concentration span is rather limited, at present, but I managed to read a couple of earlier poems before stumbling over Duino Elegies 3 & 10. Although translations vary, there's always some special quality (a persona perhaps) that somehow seems to take root in one's consciousness.
The bolder side of me would like to attempt my own translation, although I would have to rely very heavily on my wife's proficiency in the German language. I do realize, of course, that at times there seems to be to be a surfeit of translations but, in the end poetry is so integrated with its language of composition that occasionally a paraphrase ... which creates a new "authentic" poem ... should be placed alongside a literal translation. My only credential for being so presumptuous is a friend, back in the mid 1960's, noticing how profoundly my work had been influenced by RMR. It truly was a remarkable observation as within a few weeks I started to read Rilke for the first time!
If this sounds like gibberish, blame it on my early rising (i.e. before 8.ooam) as I've been quite shattered ever since.
- living and frequently struggling with moderate M.E. -
where (bad) health, faith, politics and the joys and troubles of daily life collide.
ME
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