I have an ongoing personal project to translate the poems of Mario Benedetti. I’m almost done with this book.
Translation is not easy. It’s a three-step process for me:
1)Literal translation
2)Revision and correction to appropriate usage, especially colloquialisms.
3)Attempt to turn the words back into poetry.
Here’s an an example about an accountant..
From Poemas de la Oficina y del Hoyporhoy
1988
SUELDO
Aquella esperanza que cabía en un dedal,
aquella alta vereda junto al barro,
aquel ir y venir del sueño,
aquel horóscopo de un larguísimo viaje
y el larguísimo viaje con adioses y gente
y países de nieve y corazones
donde cada kilómetro es un cielo distinto,
aquella confianza desde no sé cuándo,
aquel juramento hasta no sé dónde,
aquella cruzada hacia no sé qué,
ese aquel que uno hubiera podido ser
con otro ritmo y alguna lotería,
en fin, para decirlo de una vez por todas,
aquella esperanza que cabía en un dedal
evidentemente no cabe en este sobre
con sucios papeles de tantas manos sucias
que me pagan, es lógico, en cada veintinueve
por tener los libros rubricados al día
y dejar que la vida transcurra,
gotee simplemente como un aceite rancio.
The Paycheck
That hope that fits in a thimble,
That high path in the mud,
That twists and turns like a dream,
That prediction of an infinite trip
And the infinite trip with goodbyes and people
And snow country and hearts
Where each mile reveals a different sky,
That confidence from I don’t know when,
That oath until I don’t know where,
That crusade towards I don’t know what,
That which one may be able to be,
With different rhythms and a lucky break,
In the end, to say it one last time,
That hope that fits in a thimble,
Evidently does not fit in this envelope,
With dirty papers from so many dirty hands,
What they pay me, of course, each twenty-ninth
For having the books signed and sealed
And for leaving my life behind
To dribble away
Like dirty motor oil.