The Seashell Game - Round Three

[David Lanoue]

So far in our Seashell Game, we have evaluated works by contemporary poets from Japan (Ami Tanaka and Keiji Minato), the United States (Fay Aoyagi) and Colombia (Umberto Senegal). For Round Three, I'd like us to turn our attention to that hotbed of cutting-edge haiku, the Balkans. Let's look at two haiku that were featured last year on the Periplum blog: Petar Tchouhov's "the longest night..." and the recently deceased Slavko Sedlar's "The moment I return..."

Here's Petar's haiku in Bulgarian with an English translation by the poet. It first appeared in Ginyu #28 (October 2005).

най-дългата нощ
ван краде очите
на снежен човек

the longest night
a raven steals the eyes
of a snowman

And here's Slavko's haiku in Serbian with a translation by Saša Važić, taken from his book, T A К В О С Т 2 ("SUCHNESS 2") (Belgrade: 2010).

А дође с плаже                             
Мој глас постаде цвркут             
Два папагаја   
            
The moment I return
from the beach - my voice becomes
the chirp of two parrots

If you are new to the Seashell Game, you might want to look over what was written in Rounds One and Two. Your task here is to dredge to the surface your deep-held beliefs about haiku by forcing yourself to choose between the verses. Be sure to give reasons for your vote. Deadline: Feb. 20th.

As the moderator, I won't vote, but I do plan to share some of my own thoughts on these works later on.

Ding-a-ling-a-ling!

Let Round Three begin!

[Peter Yovu]

These are both marvelous, though I have reservations about Sedlar’s which I’ll get into. First, thanks David for doing this. It’s become a feature I look forward to, and I hope others discover it.

Though I have said that I tend to take a phenomenological approach to these short poems which some people call haiku (that’s okay with me), Tchouhov’s gets to that place that feels/understands things archetypically, or mythically. I think it’s more than the invocation of Trickster Raven. One needn’t have read mythology to appreciate the action/image here. It seems to get to (and get into) the heart of winter and of “the longest night”; it seems to reside at the nexus of life/death. Poetry, it reminds me, is what inheres—it in here is. This poem, for me, goes to a depth that I would not care to make explicit. Nor could I.

I think if Sedlar’s poem were put up on the forum to be mentored, someone would suggest that it be made more brief—something like: “returning from the beach/ my voice becomes…”. I don’t know how it works in the original, but I like the way it comes across in this translation. It gives the two “images” equal weight. (Senegal's poem did something similar).  Though the poem would appear to work as a sentence, I think it asks not to be taken as such, but asks the reader to settle in with each image as separate and complete, to allow one to “leap” into the other. My reservation is with the word “becomes” (which may, of course, relate to the translation more than to the original)—I basically feel that “becoming” in haiku is overused, and in effect is rather directive. I would prefer the line “my voice is/  the chirp…” The word “becomes” guides us as we move from one state of mind to the next, not trusting that we can make the leap.

Forgive me if I add that I hope to present a Sailing on “leaping” in the near future. Look for it over on Troutswirl.

My vote is likely evident from what I’ve said, but I’m going to wait, to see how these poems look tomorrow.

[Lorin]

I'll be waiting a bit & mulling these over, too, before registering a vote, Peter.

Whilst there are ravens all over Europe (and in European and British folklore are associated with death ...and eating the eyes of the dead...rather than with the 'Trickster' of American native people's folklore) I couldn't imagine a parrot from Serbia, so I googled and found pages of listings and 'The Parrot Club of Serbia'! So I imagine we have a caged parrot pair in Slavko Sedlar's poem. Like all parrots, they would have the ability to mimic their keeper's voice. So the reversal of the norm in "my voice becomes a chirp" intrigues me.

What has the beach got to do with it? Well, the parrots or their ancestors came from across the sea...Africa, South America, Australia etc. Not Europe. The man is free to come and go; the birds are caged. On his return from the beach, does he, in his mind, change places with the birds for a moment?

- Lorin

[sandra]

Hello all,

Thanks to previous discussions I'm becoming aware that accepting an English version of a translated poem as that poem (ie, with the nuances of language the poet intended) is sometimes a bit naive.


The moment I return
from the beach - my voice becomes
the chirp of two parrots

So, I'd like some clarification, if possible, please. I'm having a problem with the picture presented, mostly because I wouldn't usually describe the call of a parrot as a "chirp", in my experience that sound belongs to a much smaller bird. (Screech, cry ... something like that for a parrot.)

One website I found listed the translation of папагаја as parakeet, which might make more sense but I don't have any way of knowing how reliable that might be. Perhaps Sasa would be kind enough to help me (or tell me I've fallen off my perch!)

Happy to be corrected - and illuminated.

[John Carley]

I'm becoming aware that accepting an English version of a translated poem as that poem [...] is sometimes a bit naive - Sandra

Yes indeed. Although in Petar Tchouhov's case he is the also the translator, so we only have to deal the question of whether a poet knows his own intention or not (and is therefore able to translate it faithfully).

I find Petar's English to be direct (I don't notice I'm reading it) whereas the second poem halts me at the surface of the text itself. And I wonder if this indicates that the source text of the former - Petar's Bulgarian - is more simple than that of the latter - Slavko's Serbian.

In whatever language I tend to find simple and direct haiku to be the more appealing. Or rather, those written in a simple and direct manner.


Best wishes, John

[John Carley]

Sandra - applogies for my comment above. Reading it back on screen it appears to suggest that I am rebuking you for naïvety. This is not my intention.

I merely meant that, as we poets normally act in good faith, we sometimes fail to take account of what a dodgy lot translators are. You know - really fundamental things like inserting 'cutting word' symbols, or 'regularising' mid-line pivots.

Come the revlolution there will be a reckoning! John

[chibi575]

My vote:

Here's Petar's haiku in Bulgarian with an English translation by the poet. It first appeared in Ginyu #28 (October 2005).


най-дългата нощ
ван краде очите
на снежен човек

the longest night
a raven steals the eyes
of a snowman

Although, this short poem is older (2005) than the other (2010), and that may have significance to me because I like more the classic style.  In that it has two "kigo" (the longest night) and (snowman), the rule being that the first is the emphasis and the second is supporting, so, there is harmony.  Note: that it is hard to master this harmonic resonation of two kigo in the same short poem.

The visual/circumstance/scene flows with vortex, to me, with "night", "raven", "eyes", and "snowman" (Frosty the famous snowman had eyes of coal -- my childhood reference).  Also, the night-raven jux with the eyes-snow (black - white contrast) works to add further intrigue and depth.

Mosly, when I read a poem if it "snaps" into view, it gets a very favorable nod.  I nod to it over the other.

[Lorin]

Hi Sandra,

 The birds that I found on a quick google were parakeets, even though the title was 'Parrot Club of Serbia'. So I imagined small birds, like budgies, who do chirp. I think it's ok to use parrots, the more generic word, as parakeets are parrots and we have the chirp to show that they're not cockatoos or the like. We'd need to know if the Serbian word, 'папагаја' is specifically 'parakeet', though, and doesn't include 'parrot'.

OK, I've just availed myself of English/Serbian web translations:

parrot (n.)
papagaj, папагај, папига

parakeet (n.)
mali papagaj

mali (a.)
small, little, low

So which word is used in the original Serbian? 'papagai' or 'nanaraj'? Probably 'papagai', with or without the 'little'?

I find Petar's English to be direct (I don't notice I'm reading it) whereas the second poem halts me at the surface of the text itself. And I wonder if this indicates that the source text of the former - Petar's Bulgarian - is more simple than that of the latter - Slavko's Serbian.

In whatever language I tend to find simple and direct haiku to be the more appealing. Or rather, those written in a simple and direct manner.


Best wishes, John

My vote:

Here's Petar's haiku in Bulgarian with an English translation by the poet. It first appeared in Ginyu #28 (October 2005).


най-дългата нощ
ван краде очите
на снежен човек

the longest night
a raven steals the eyes
of a snowman

Although, this short poem is older (2005) than the other (2010), and that may have significance to me because I like more the classic style.  . . .

Yes, I think that the dates could be a clue, thanks Dennis. I agree with you both that the Tchouhov ku is the more 'direct' or 'classic' (if we are thinking in terms of EL haiku or EL translations of Japanese ku). Another word might be 'traditional'. The Sedlar ku might have its counterpart in the newer Japanese gendai haiku... maybe, maybe not.

The moment I return
from the beach - my voice becomes
the chirp of two parrots

a version:

back from the beach -
my voice becomes the chirp / chirps
of two parrots/ parakeets


- Lorin

[chibi575]

You are welcome, Lorin.  Your retranslation of the "parrot/parrakeet" made me think of articles in Serbian, if similar to Russian, they are not used, so, the English translation beats are 6-7-6 if you drop the articles from L1 and L3 then it is 5-6-5... then I noticed the pause which be a beat if in the center, so, dropping the article in L2 and using the cut as a beat, brings the English to 5-7-5, thus:

moment I return
from beach - my voice becomes
chirps of two parrots

Maybe the parrot choice over parrakeet is one of beat count consideration?

I also wonder if the Serbian beats are 5-7-5?  I know that the 5-7-5 beats may fit Serbian and not English.

My penchant for nits ... make me a nit-wit, eh?

[viktorija]

А дође с плаже                                             The moment I returned

Мој глас постаде цвркут                             from the beach my voice becomes

Два папагаја                                                 the chirp of two parrots

The author of this haiku was not in good health, and thus not available for discussion of any of his haiku I was translating for his book Takvost 2/Suchness 2. Actually, what he says and what I understand is that:
1. as soon as (just when; the moment I entered the room etc) I returned from the beach (I feel "the precise moment of this 'voice transformation' is important to the author, so I opted for "the moment I returned")
2. as for "from the beach, I don't think it has any 'deep' significance to the rest of the poem. He could have returned from any other "noisy" place.
3. In line 2, Sedlar says: "My voice becomes". Could be "transforms into", or "I hear my voice in...", or "two parrots' voices sound like my own" or "my voice is two parrot's voice", but most probably, the parrots are greeting Sedlar with their parroting his voice with their joyful chirp.
4. the chirp (of parrots) - yes, parrots can chirp, and to the author's ear, they really chirp expressing their joy to see him back. 

This is my understating of this poem, and the translation corresponds to it.

[chibi575]

А дође с плаже                                             The moment I returned

Мој глас постаде цвркут                             from the beach my voice becomes

Два папагаја                                                 the chirp of two parrots

The author of this haiku was not in good health, and thus not available for discussion of any of his haiku I was translating for his book Takvost 2/Suchness 2. Actually, what he says and what I understand is that:
1. as soon as (just when; the moment I entered the room etc) I returned from the beach (I feel "the precise moment of this 'voice transformation' is important to the author, so I opted for "the moment I returned")
2. as for "from the beach, I don't think it has any 'deep' significance to the rest of the poem. He could have returned from any other "noisy" place.
3. In line 2, Sedlar says: "My voice becomes". Could be "transforms into", or "I hear my voice in...", or "two parrots' voices sound like my own" or "my voice is two parrot's voice", but most probably, the parrots are greeting Sedlar with their parroting his voice with their joyful chirp.
4. the chirp (of parrots) - yes, parrots can chirp, and to the author's ear, they really chirp expressing their joy to see him back. 

This is my understating of this poem, and the translation corresponds to it.

I am sorry to hear that at the time the author was in poor health.

Thank you for your translations and explanations.  Since parrots can mimic the human voice and other sounds, I wonder were the parrots "mimicing" the author's voice?  This brought back from memory my grandmother's best friend down the block had a parrot.  On occasion we would go to visit in the summer.  We would knock on the sceendoor entrance to the back porch and the parrot would in identical voice as its owner say, "Come in".  Thinking it the neighbor's voice, we would sometimes find the screendoor latched and the parrot's owner totally unaware that her parrot invited us in.  It was a bit of fun during the summer.

I know a common behavior between the parrots owner and the parrots, is to repeat the phrase the owner wants the parrot to say, like, "Pretty bird" or maybe some phrase thought cute by the owner.  Perhaps, this such a case the poem?

[Peter Yovu]

As with the poems presented in the SG2, these present a clear contrast in how they operate. Tchouhov’s reminds me of something Burnell Lippy said introducing his own work: “I often approach haiku, my own and others’, as though I were creating or deciphering a Chinese ideogram”. In this way of looking at haiku, Lippy might say that “a raven steals the eyes/ of a snowman” could evolve into an ideogram for “the longest night”. The two parts of the poem do not contrast or compare, nor does the first line merely present a “weather report”, a background against which some detail or action can occur.
It seems more accurate to say that they mean each other, or even that they are each other, or even to say… The poem feels close to the source, where language is still a living thing. Not bad for a translation. Of course, I don't know what sound and rhythmic qualities the original might add.

With Tchouhov’s poem, I do not question the particulars, any more than I would question snow falling from a cloud. It’s different with Sedlar’s. My approach to this kind of poem is the same approach I would have to a dream: without wishing to drain it of its integrity, of its being a whole which manifests differently from different angles,  I might still ask why a beach, why two parrots, or any parrots? If I were under the impression that a haiku needs to be derived from actual experience, reportage of a filmable event, let’s say-- then I would be left to ask, well why did he feel the need to report that odd experience. But I have been disabused of that notion, as well as of the notion that actual or “direct” experience is somehow more real than any other kind of experience. I look up (literally and figuratively) to what I have posted above my window: “How do you know but every bird that cuts the airy way, is an immense world of delight, closed by your senses five”.

Having said all that, I am not sure that any responses, and I do have some, to any questions I ask add up to more than my having enjoyed the exercise. I’m not sure that I can enter the poem any more deeply than I can enter an ink-blot, though I might learn something about myself.

So I seem to have revised my estimate of this poem to something below “marvelous”. Even so, I am not ready to vote. Who knows but Sedlar’s poem is an immense world of delight, just now closed to my senses six or seven?

For now I'll just enjoy the absurdity of it. Not all dreams are life-changers.

[Lorin]

Thank you, Saša, for coming here and helping us. It's really good to be able to have a translator help when one is unsure. I think that these are African parrots, cage birds, perhaps even the renowned African Grey Parrot species, which have, reportedly, excellent memories as well as being great mimics.

"...but most probably, the parrots are greeting Sedlar with their parroting his voice with their joyful chirp." - Saša

I would've thought that the chirping sounds and the speaking sounds would be distinct in all parrots, but I may be wrong. They would certainly mimic their owners voice. Nevertheless, I feel that the author intended the interesting reversal: instead of parrot voices learning speech and so becoming the man's voice, it's the man's voice here that becomes "the chirp of two parrots".

So,  pets and their owners. Perhaps he really does find himself chirping to the two parrots in greeting?
I have seen this, the man imitating the bird, even bobbing his head up & down to the rhythm. I don't know what to make of the beach except that of course it's outdoors and public, whilst a return to parrots would perhaps be inside, or at least in the man's own yard, and so it's private.

Perhaps the author is showing us something about his public persona, the social mask, and the private... essentially from the wild, like the birds... giving us a glimpse inside?

- Lorin

[Maya]

Hi, David, greetings from Bulgaria 

Since i'm new to this forum - can i vote?
If i can - my vote goes for Peter's haiku.

BTW, there's a typo in L2 of the Bulgarian version, it should read like this:


"гарван краде очите"

Peter writes most of his haiku directly in English and that explains their smooth flow, besides, we don't need  another translator's help

[polona]

Hi all,

although Serbian is not my native language (Sloveinan is but my generation grew up surrounded by what was then known as Serbo-Croat), I thought I'd try to provide some info regarding the translation of Slavko's haiku. Having said which, I may be fluent in both English and Serbian but there is a possibility I'm missing some important nuances in either language.


А дође с плаже                             returning from the beach
Мој глас постаде цвркут              my voice becomes the chirp
Два папагаја                                of two parrots


From Saša's reply it is evident she thought the moment of the poet's return from the beach was important. However,  дође (comes, arrives, returns...) is not first person - so the way I read it, it may refer to the poet's voice rather than the poet himself. Of course, I may as well be wrong...

L2 Nd L3 are clear as far as direct translation goes but there is the issue of 'papagaj' (папагај in Cyrillic). It is a generic term which most dictionaries translate as parrot. I can only speak accurately for my part of the former Yugoslavia but it is fair to assume things weren't much different elsewhere. Larger species of parrot were rare and would be called with their genus name (ara for macaw; kakadu for cockatoo etc.). But budgies were quite common so it is highly likely that the parrots in Slavko's haiku were indeed budgies -which would also explain the chirping part.

I do not know how important the beach is in this haiku but I think there is a strong possibility that said beach was situated on the Danube rather than by the sea.