On Wednesday, October 11th, I attended along with some of my other classmates to a reading with Andrew Zawacki at the Graduate Center. A reoccurring theme that was brought up throughout the reading was translation. The theme of translation was described as having many parts to it. Professor Zawacki expressed that translation makes it possible to channel someone else. As a psychoanalyst, he said it made him able to translate the text farther from the face value. Psychoanalysts appreciate the way the text reads in the original language which helps them be some of the best people to translate a text to another language and in their own interpretation. The opposite of a psychoanalyst would be a domestic translator, who don’t really take the language of the original text into account. Having a constraint of sticking to the same format as the original text is easier to translate.

Translation, in on its own, has its own constraints. There are things you can do in another language that you can’t do in English; there is ambiguity in English, with pronouns such as “I,” but with another language it is clear on whether “I” is referring to a male or female. The translation of a romantic language, such as Spanish and French, don’t translate the same way as English. With its German origins, the English language has hard consonant sounds, like the hard c, which doesn’t translate as romantic as Spanish or French, which is why the original translation of a text usually sounds better than the translation.

Translations are a lot of known unknowns. Translators are the best critiques, finding how to best interpret a given text: keeping what they find is most important, which mean keeping the rhyme scheme, but losing the way it read originally.

A crazy yet beautiful place, that is NYC. A city where beauty is taken for granted because even if you are not in a rush, you must act as if you are just to fit in. when going around the city you will see a lot of people taking pictures of their surroundings, but are they really enjoying the moment? It’s time to stop, take a break and enjoy the beauty that its hidden in what we often call boring. Like sitting on Central Park while the sun is going down and the sweet smell of the waffle truck keeps you present. Or taking a moment to actually admired the amazing architecture, whether is old or modern, that hugs the beautiful NYC.  Lets use an excuse and scape the monotony that we live in, New York City will thank you.

Baudelaire’s poems are written in a way that makes you feel like you never want to stop reading. They are very descriptive which makes the reader travel to whatever place he is describing and live what he is saying like if it was actually real. That’s why I really enjoy the poem “Get High”, the poem describes everything that people living in NYC need.

Translating another’s work is a very interesting processes. In some ways, especially if you are a domesticated translator, it is almost as though you are writing your own piece. On the other hand, there are situations where the original writer is very strict in the way they want their work to be translated and set many limitations on exactly how you can translate the piece into another language. For example, in Andrew Zawacki’s case the original writer set restrictions on the font, size and spacing Zawacki could use for his translation. Although this can seem like a disadvantage, according to Zawacki, the limitation actually make the translation process easier. This is because it narrows down all of the broad and large choices many translators have to make, especially when it comes down to word choices.

Another interesting aspect of translating a piece is that sometimes you can find yourself translating something that you have always wanted to write about yet could never find the right words. This can be ideas, issues or even feelings. For example, at the reading Zawacki read a very intense and angry poem. After reading that piece Zawacki admitted that he is sometimes angry person yet struggles to write angry poems. Being able to translate that poem was almost like pouring out his own feelings on paper for him. I believe in many ways if I were to translate a piece myself I would find myself relating to many parts of it, whether through interpretations or actual literal meaning.

I do not have to follow the speed of NYC. My life does not depend on it. So as not to feel the New Yorker’s crazy busy lifestyle crossing the street and tooting the horn, I need to take my time without any interference. But where? At Central park, the green grass, and sunny sky, wherever I like. And if sometimes I take a break, in park of NYC, under the shade of a tree, my stress already waning or gone, ask the wind, the sun, the birds, the dogs, ask everything that stays with me, ask where I am. And the wind, the sun, the birds, the dogs, will answer, “You are in the heart of NYC. But as not to see the real New York, take a nap! At Central park, the green grass, and sunny sky, as you wish.”

I chose the “GET HIGH” among Baudelaire’s prose poems in the Parisian Prowler. I tried to imitate his way of speaking(talking) in his poem. Although his style is expressed in a nutshell, and it looks like a list of words, he shows his idea very clearly and confidently. When I read his writing, he made me to feel same with his point of view; I feel that I have to get high without respite. Next stylistic element is focusing on things. I think he sometimes focus on things that usually people do not pay attention because it is normal, and then he gives specific points on them as like “on the green grass of a ditch”, therefore, I tried to emulate these things.

If I Can Make It there, I Can Make It Anywhere

All the unknowns I lusted for and drank greedily like the toddler slurps the last drops of his juice box. “Share with me your deepest secrets,” I cried.

I look to her inhabitants. They lose themselves and fall into her grasp and she takes them up like a thirsty sponge grabs fleks of water. Her awesome immensity seduces them. Potentiality and opportunity she offers and they lunge – just as they did before.

They push, they shove – grasping for the prize that would send them to oblivion. Ambition and joy, despair and sorrow shine and bleed and she has no pity or sympathy only reward.

I am on the boat and she throws waves and waves and with each onslaught the others are pitched into her darkness. She swells and convulses and I slip and fall – following.

Baudelaire has this amazing descriptive quality which I focused on imitating in this poem that I wrote about the opportunity in NYC. The poem that I took the most ideas from was “A Hemisphere In Tresses” which also seems to be talking about a city. He personifies the city and I did the same with NY. His work has many analogies and I tried to emulate this in my work.

Baudelaire also goes from first person narrative to general ideas. For instance, in the first two stanzas of “Any Where Out of the World,” the first makes statement and the second he launches into the first person. I started with first person and ended with it.

This was a very fun activity.

“Eres tan hermosa mi amor”,

“You are so beautiful my love”.

The ocean finds shore on the curves of your body but you let the river flow just as comfortably along your edges. You brought together all those who are different under one place we can all call home. I have gotten a taste of the world in your arms; from the hot steaming dumplings to the spicy smell of curry and the sweet taste of brigadeiros. You’ve given me so much more than I’ve ever dared to desire. Those who have never felt the wind from your rushing yellow cabs will never feel the adrenaline of feeling alive. You are simply magic.

I choose to imitate Baudelaire’s, use of personification and conversational style in my poem. I used the conversational element from the poems “windows” and “The Stranger” while also using New York as a person to convey my appreciation for New York. The conversation is one sided as there is no reply from the second person such as in “The dog and the scent bottle”.  I also used the element of senses to communicate the experience of living in new York as Baudelaire does in “The dog and the scent bottle”.

“There is an uptown, express 4 train approaching the station, please stand away from the platform edge” says the invisible, echoing voice at Bowling Green, as the din of train tracks grows louder and louder.

The student sprints towards the train, as droves of people provide a barrier towards the now idle train. He pushes and shoves towards the turnstile. The train stays there waiting for him. The student swipes his almost empty MetroCard in the reader and moves forward into a locked turnstile.

“Swipe card again at this turnstile,” the machine reads, as the train pulls away, almost as to taunt him. The boy, realizes he will ultimately be late to class. “I am a fool, as usual! Had I not stopped to give money to a homeless man, help an old lady cross the street, and said hello to an old friend, I would be in class on time!”

I took stylistically from The Dog and the Scent-Bottle. I like the use of the conversation and action in the story, and like the twist at the end, where the speaker makes it about the public in general rather than just a dog. I tried to emulate that with this prose, while conveying (semi-accurately) a morning I experience (besides all the nice stuff the boy does). It almost conveys the fact that in New York, one needs to have tunnel vision to get to places on time, and unfortunately, good deeds can hinder one from getting where he or she is heading.

Why is it that a simple spark of a smile can be mistaken as an invitation for one to ignite a conversation? As I sat and listened to the screeching and whining of the L train as it powerfully devoured the music that was coming from my headphones, I noticed a man across from me staring at me. As we made eye contact his green eyes continued to bare into me, refusing to look away. Unsure of what to do I awkwardly smiled at him and quickly took out my phone from my bag to appear busy. Unfortunately, this contact was enough for the man to arise from his seat and fill up the empty space next to me. I quickly said a prayer that this man would either, get away from me, not be a creep or at least not a thief. A few moments later I could hear his deep voice attempting to speak to me. Once again unsure of how to respond, I just turned my music up, tightened my grip on my phone, and pretended like there wasn’t a stranger next to me trying to start a conversation. I stayed in this tense position until he gave up and moved away.

In my imitation poem I used many different elements that I noticed in Baudelaire’s poems. From “Get High,” “N’Importe Ou Hors Du Monde” and “The Bad Glazier” I noticed that Baudelaire tends to start his prose poems with his main ideas or thoughts. Another stylistic element I chose to imitate was his great attention to details throughout his poems. The final element I used of Baudelaire, is his style of listing things out in his poems (as seen in “Get High”).

“Boy, come in to my restaurant and try this delicious slice of cheese pizza, freshly baked, coming right out of the oven. This is a one-of-a-kind pizza you’ll never have tasted before. The best pizza you’ll ever have in New York City.”

My stomach growling louder than a whale’s mating call, watching the steam coming from the hot pizza, drool coming out of my mouth as I stand outside the restaurant. I look at the slice as if I just met the love of my life. I then take a bite, and is amazed at how it is truly one of a kind. It has had to be the worse pizza I have ever tasted in New York City, the city that is known for their pizzas. I quickly spit out what was remaining in my mouth and threw my $1 worth of pizza out.

“Stupid child! You do not know what is the true taste of pizza made by an Italian man! The meaning behind the pizza, the work, the effort is something you would not understand! If you were given a slice of fake pizza from Costco, you would have devoured the whole pie in no time! You must’ve never tasted anything as precious as my pizza in your life. Begone! You are unworthy of being called a New Yorker. Go and enjoy your Costco pizza.”

From Baudelaire’s The Dog and The Scent-Bottle, I chose to imitate his style of using our senses and specific examples to bring out a true vision of what you are experiencing.

The City That Never Sleeps 

You must never sleep. In the city that never sleeps.

From the moment you open your eyes, they say “keep moving”.

Keep moving, for Life will not stop for you. Life will keep moving despite what you do, how you feel, what you eat, what you smell, what you see and what you don’t see. Life will keep moving.

On your way to work, to school, to friends, to family, if you find yourself drifting away, slowly closing your eyes to endless slumber. Remind yourself that life is endless and you must not give into the desire to rest your eyes for a couple of minutes which will slowly turn into hours.

Remember, as you run from place to place that Time is against you. Dreaded Time, what makes you a prey to the deprivation of sleep and addicted to our only source of energy, caffeine. Shaky hands, shaky leg, eyes wide open, using every muscle in your body to defeat the power that Time has on.

Trying everyday to find a way to defeat your only true enemy: Time. People from cities far, far away, see New York City, your home, as the “city that never sleeps.” Beeping cars, elevator dings, the constant tapping on a keyboard, “The next stop on this train will be 23rd Street, please stand clear of the closing doors please”

After a long day of fighting against Time, standing still in a quiet space, you finally admit defeat, closing your eyes and laying motionless as everything around you continues moving for the next few couple of hours, only to repeat it all again the very next day.

The one of the specific stylistic elements I choose to imitate from the prose poems that Charles Baudelaire wrote in “The Parisian Prowler” was the use of personification and representation of an idea like time have a human like manner to it. In his prose poem “Get High,” Baudelaire shows to the reader the physical burden that time can have on an individual. “not to feel the horrible burden of Time/ wrecking your back and bending you to the ground, you/ must get high without respite.” I noticed how he also capitalized Time rather than using it in lowercase, to further implicate the personification he was displaying; that time isn’t only an idea but like the name of a person it should be capitalized, mimicking human like mannerisms. I also tried to imitate how descriptive Baudelaire in his writing, having an impact of the sensory aspect of the reader. In the prose poem “Cake,” Baudelaire describes the fight scene with the two homeless men in great detail to the reader, done to details such as the following “the first one, infuriated, clutched the second by the hair; the other one bit his ear and, with a magnificent swear in dialect, spat out a little bloody piece of it.” I used a combination of the two elements I mentioned: personification and descriptive text to describe NYC to the best of my ability and what it means to me at the moment, living a busy and hectic life at times.