Today, challenge was to write a poem that, like the work in
Translucence, reacts both to photography and to words in a language not your own. Begin with
a photograph. Now find a poem in a language you don’t know (
here’s a good place to look!) Ignore any accompanying English translation (maybe cover it up, or cut-and-paste the original into a new document). Now start translating the poem into English, with the idea that the poem is actually “about” your photograph. Use the look and feel of the words in the original to guide you along as you write, while trying to describe your photograph. It will be a bit of a balancing act, but hopefully it will lead to new and beautiful (and possibly very weird) places.
I took a poem by Norwegian Poet, Monica Aasprong, “jeg gir deg en gråt som spruter”. I truly enjoyed today’s challenge for one, I have never thought of reading poetry in another language and second it was challenging. Thanks to NaPoWriMo, the gates to the world have been opened by way of this challenge showing language is no barrier.
How I chose the poet amongst many others? Well, since every language other than the one I speak is Greek to me, I just clicked on the first name (Aasprong was the first poet in the list arranged in alphabetical order) that showed up on my screen. I selected a poem written by her and followed the prompt.
Below the image on which my poem is based. Would love to hear what you think of it.
jeg gir deg en gråt som spruter
den skal du bruke
når noen trenger seg inn
da skal du la denne gråten sprute ut
la tårene danse ytterst
som kulene i en fontene
Eyes well, tears sprout,
Hold on to the brink
Dark secrets hide, lashes glisten,
Scars of broken dreams sprout,
Deep mysteries buried in yesterdays,
Spring up, stay, don’t like fountains flow…
så gir jeg deg en hikstegråt
den kommer over deg
når du minst venter det
(og er vanskelig å stoppe)
These sorrows, they found their way,
You hold them back, Don’t!
Let them flow these tears
(Cry out loud, don’t stop)
jeg gir deg en bror å hate
(og volden får du som en del av søskenskapet)
That which was sown in hate
(In a faraway land, once your homeland)
det er ikke plass til deg i bildet, sier jeg
du må gå selv, på dine bein
They can take it all but not these tears, they are yours,
Let them go, let them flow, it will do you good
jeg sleper rundt på alle føtters blod
det er derfor,
sier barnet
Let it wash away the pain, the anger,
Memories that these weary eyes hold,
Sleep my child, Good Night
nei, sier jeg
det kan ikke stemme
det må være noe annet
mindre
du bærer
When tomorrow comes, bring not the tears,
That which from sorrow stemmed
But for now
Rest awhile
kanskje et brustent hat
det kan du prøve å hele
May you find your home, in this homeland of ours
May your goodness prove,
jeg ser barnet gå
med en klase
på ryggen
Those tears only a reminder
Of what you lost
And of what spurs you on
boka ligger åpen
To greater stories…now and forever
du har stjålet mine bånd,
skriker jeg til barnet
det er min hender du har der
ikke dine
May the music play in your honor
May there be a lavish feast
May we welcome you, in our midst
May you be one amongst us
May Peace be yours…and Ours
Eúnoia 
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