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This is something that is completely puzzling to me. I'm trying to figure it out. When I read in Russian, I'm much more affected than when I read in English. The conundrum becomes more complicated by the fact that it is easier for me to communicate in English. I was so bewildered by this phenomenon that I decided to test myself. I found one of my favorite poems in both languages. It's a short one by Frederico Garcia Lorca called August. Here it is in English:
The opposing of peach and sugar
and the sun inside the afternoon
like the stone in the fruit.
The ear of corn keeps
its laughter intact, yellow and firm.
The opposing of peach and sugar
and the sun inside the afternoon
like the stone in the fruit.
The ear of corn keeps
its laughter intact, yellow and firm.
August. The little boys eat
brown bread and delicious moon.
This does nothing to me. However, when I read the Russian translation, I find myself returning to the poem again and again. It is just so much more beautiful than the one above. So, I'm wondering -- is it more powerful just because the translation is better? (The original poem is obviously in Spanish.) By the looks of the English version, it appears that the Russian translator took many more liberties with the poem, which became quite musical. The English piece is more literal and dry. Or, maybe I'm full of crap and simply enjoy the Russian poem more because I'm Russian in my soul? I have no idea.
Август
Персики и цукаты,
и в медовой росе покос.
Входит солнце в янтарь заката,
словно косточка в абрикос.
И смеется тайком початок
смехом желтым, как летний зной.
Снова август. И детям сладок
смуглый хлеб со спелой луной.
brown bread and delicious moon.
This does nothing to me. However, when I read the Russian translation, I find myself returning to the poem again and again. It is just so much more beautiful than the one above. So, I'm wondering -- is it more powerful just because the translation is better? (The original poem is obviously in Spanish.) By the looks of the English version, it appears that the Russian translator took many more liberties with the poem, which became quite musical. The English piece is more literal and dry. Or, maybe I'm full of crap and simply enjoy the Russian poem more because I'm Russian in my soul? I have no idea.
Август
Персики и цукаты,
и в медовой росе покос.
Входит солнце в янтарь заката,
словно косточка в абрикос.
И смеется тайком початок
смехом желтым, как летний зной.
Снова август. И детям сладок
смуглый хлеб со спелой луной.
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