The Stephen Spender Prize 2017 - in association with - for poetry in translation
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The Stephen Spender Prize 2017
in association with
for poetry in translationThe Stephen Spender Prize 2017 for poetry in translation
in association with
Winners and Commended
Winner of the 14-and-under category 14-and-under commended
Katherine Linaker Hannnah Gillot Natasha Symes Warsan Zubeir Masabo
‘This is the Way’ ‘The Anxious Lotus ‘On our Way Home ‘You will get Wealth
by BL Pasternak Flower’ from School’ from the Farm’
(Russian) by Heinrich Heine by Jacques Prévert Traditional
(German) (French) (Swahili)
Winners of the 18-and-under category 18-and-under commended
Isobel Sanders
‘Elegy 3.8’
by Propertius
(Latin)
First Second Third
Ambah Brondum- Euan McGreevy Marina Kisluik
Christensen ‘Architectural Pride’ ‘A Mistake’
‘Per Diem’ by Sergio C Fanjul by Marina Tsvetaeva
by Daphne Pratt (Spanish) (Russian)
(Krio)
Winners of the Open category
First Second Third Highly commended
Gabi Reigh Andrew Fentham Antoinette Fawcett Deirdre McMahon
‘The Traveller’ ‘Balaton Accident’ ‘Wind-still’ ‘Beneath The World A Storehouse Of Stars’
by Marin Sorescu by András Gerevich by Leo Vroman by Marica Bodrožić
(Romanian) (Hungarian) (Dutch) (German)
Open category commended Stewart Sanderson Kevin Maynard Antoinette Fawcett
‘Charm to Quiet a ‘Building Walls’ ‘Journey into the Known’
Crying Baby’ by Liu Kezhuang by Han van der Vegt
Anonymous (Chinese) (Dutch)
(Akkadian)
1Introduction to the Stephen Spender Prize 2017
T aking over the reins for the Stephen Spender Prize for
poetry in translation from Robina Pelham Burn has
been a wonderful experience. Submissions for the prize
My thanks go to the judges, Sean O’Brien, Olivia
McCannon and Margaret Jull Costa – conscientious,
thoughtful and good humoured. This year the prize was
ranged from aged 11 to 93 and the languages and dialects generously sponsored by the Old Possum’s Practical Trust,
have been truly global, from Akkadian to Swahili by way of the Sackler Trust, the John S Cohen Foundation and the
Krio and Romanian. Many entrants were from UK residents Rothschild Foundation; I am very grateful for the continued
translating from their mother tongue into English and, while support and encouragement, and thank you to our media
the European languages were healthily represented, it was partner, The Guardian.
wonderful to encounter poems from less accessible languages.
Suzanne Joinson
Director of the Stephen Spender Trust
Judges’ comments
What first struck me school’, Natasha Symes also observes rail, hanging from a windowsill…’ She
was the sheer variety of how rhyme often forces the translator skilfully maintains the driving rhythm
languages and also how away from the original vocabulary and and the helter-skelter imagery leading
many of the entrants into new discoveries. us ever onwards. Andrew Fentham’s
were translating from Ambah Brondum-Christensen’s version of Hungarian poet András
their mother tongue, version of Krio poet Daphne Pratt’s ‘Per Gerevich’s ‘Balaton accident’ is equally
having been brought up bilingually or Diem’ is impressively inventive, manag- brilliant at replicating the unremit-
having come here as children or having ing to preserve the sly humour of the ting grimness of the poem’s subject
grandparents who spoke that other original, while bringing the whole poem matter, with some wonderful imagery,
language. The most popular source smartly up to date and, in effect, creating for example: ‘the faces in the crowd/
languages were still Spanish, French a brand-new poem. Euan McGreevy’s rearranged with grief’. And I loved all
and German, but it was gratifying to translation of young Spanish poet of Antoinette Fawcett’s translations
see such a multitude of other languages. Sergio C. Fanjul’s ‘Architectural pride’ from the Dutch, particularly ‘Wind-
The unanimous choice for winner of maintains the simplicity of the original, still’ which makes captivating use of
the 14-and-under section was Katherine but very wisely opts for calling the assonance and alliteration to evoke the
Linaker for her version of ‘This is the ‘city’ ‘she’ rather than ‘it’, thus breath- stillness of the original: ‘I saw the stock-
way’ by Boris Pasternak. Katherine ing necessary life into the inanimate. still silent white/cow-parsley blooming
chose not to rhyme, but to use instead Marina Kisluik, in her translation of by the ditch/in a deathly hush…’ I was
a 4-stressed syllabic line. The result is Marina Tsvetaeva’s ‘A Mistake’, deftly also very taken with Deidre McMahon’s
strikingly confident and compelling, negotiates the seemingly simple lan- bold translation of the German poet
with that insistently repeated ‘This guage. I particularly liked her alliterative Marica Bodrožić’s ‘Beneath the world
is the way’ drawing the reader on to opening lines: ‘A flying snowflake,/ a storehouse of stars’, with her free
that unexpected last line: ‘This is the Falling like a shooting star.’ and fertile use of alliteration, as well as
way that true poets are made.’ Hannah The winner of the Open Category the English neologisms she invents to
Gillot, on the other hand, chose to is Gabi Reigh’s translation of the match those in which the poet herself
keep to the rhyme scheme in her subtle Romanian poet Marin Sorescu’s ‘The delights – ‘falcon-light’, ‘everland’,
translation of Heine’s ‘The anxious traveller’, a poem that revels in discom- ‘untetheredness’.
lotus flower’, and she remarks on the fort and danger, and Gabi effortlessly My thanks to all the entrants for
word choices imposed by both rhyme captures the poet’s comic/ironic delight providing us with such riches, for the
and rhythm. In her comments on her in precariousness: ‘I am not well unless/ poems and the commentaries.
appropriately playful version of Jacques Confused, uncomfortable,/Standing on Margaret Jull Costa
Prévert’s ‘On our way home from one foot on a blister/Clutching on a
2Judges’ comments
This was my first year long traditional poem (Swahili), ‘You and unexpected associations: ‘…the
on the judging panel, will get Wealth from the Farm’, with telegrams are encrypted/And you have
and I was delighted limpidity and warmth. forgotten the code of leaves’. Andrew
to discover so many In the 18-and-under category, many Fentham’s sure-footed rendering of
accomplished submis- candidates engaged wholeheartedly András Gerevich, from the Hungarian,
sions across such a wide with the complexities of translation, was remarkable for its attentiveness to
spread of languages and eras. I especially producing lively and original poems the ‘new confusion in the poet’s work’
enjoyed work that engaged deeply with in English. We were impressed by and its holding of nerve through a
the translation process, had a genuine the fiery political energy of Ambah series of disturbing images. We were all
‘felt’ presence, or nourished poetic Brondum-Christensen’s ‘Per Diem’, and struck by a set of atmospheric, nuanced
innovation in English. I’ll look forward her confident strategies for turning the poems from the Dutch, translated by
to seeing entrants continue to reach differences between Krio and English Antoinette Fawcett – her ‘Wind-still’
out across the globe next year, bringing to her advantage. In Euan McGreevy’s took third place, with her ‘Journey into
across contemporary writers, or voices restrained and effective translation of the Known’ also commended.
from parts of the world, and the past, Sergio C. Fanjul (Spanish), his consid- Deirdre McMahon’s rendering of
that speak to our times. ered importation of gendered pronouns Marica Bodrožić (German) was a pleas-
In the 14-and-under category, gave him new possibilities in English. ure to read for the new-coined quality
Katherine Linaker’s translation of Isobel Sanders gave us a punchy version of its imagery, and the syntactic tension
Pasternak, ‘This is the Way’, stood out of Propertius, confidently treading the of lines hanging together by a thread.
for its beautifully sustained handling fine line of modernisation, while Marina I was moved by Stewart Sanderson’s
of metre. I appreciated her thoughtful Kisluik thought and felt her way into ‘Charm to Quiet a Crying Baby’ from
commentary, charting the transforma- Tsvetaeva, facing the challenges with the Akkadian, speaking to us across the
tion of uncertainty into the search for honesty and insight. centuries, vividly and with great human-
possibility. I admired Hannah Gillot’s The judges unanimously selected ity, and by the human detail and realism
rendering of Heine’s ‘Die Lotosblume’, Gabi Reigh’s translation of Marin of ‘Building Walls’ in Kevin Maynard’s
maintaining form without compromis- Sorescu, ‘The Traveller’ (Romanian), as reconstructed version of a Song dynasty
ing the flow of the line, and Natasha the winner in the Open Category. We poem.
Symes’ inventive and unforced version admired her ear for the restless tone of Thank you all for entering!
of Prévert’s ‘En sortant de l’école’, while the poem, her skill in creating a con- Olivia McCannon
Warsan Zubeir Masabo brought over a vincing texture out of unsettling shifts
Perhaps the most strik- In the 14-and-under category, the Swahili poem, ‘You Will Get Wealth
ing feature of this year’s winner Katherine Linaker delivered from the Farm’, a trenchant example of
entries for the Stephen a mature and assured translation of a kind of wisdom poetry which English
Spender Translation Boris Pasternak’s ‘This is the way…’, seems not to have produced.
Competition was the maintaining the momentum of the Winner in the 18-and-under category
translators’ widespread piece through the diverse images and was Ambah Brondum-Christensen’s
preference for poems that were not moments of recognition that shape the translation from the Krio of Daphne
obvious choices, either because they imagination of a poet. Hannah Gillot Pratt. ‘Per Diem: the Need for Expenses’
were less familiar pieces by internation- made an impressive showing with is a dry and damningly funny address to
ally famous poets or because the poets her rendering of Heine’s ‘The Lotus those (of all nations) who are never off
translated are less familiar or indeed new Flower’, which was marked by rhyth- the political / diplomatic gravy train.
to Anglophone readers. The latter is one mic confidence and consistency of tone. ‘Architectural Pride’, in second place,
of the most useful and delightful aspects Natasha Symes dealt boldly and enjoy- translated by Euan McGreevy from the
of translation: a new imagination comes ably with Prévert’s ‘On Our Way Home Spanish of Sergio Fanjul, offers a differ-
into view, with the promise of more from School’. It was also refreshing to ent but equally intriguing challenge – to
waiting to be discovered and enjoyed read Warsan Zubeir Masabo’s com- sustain a tone of deliberate ordinariness
beyond the immediate sample. mended translation from a traditional while observing fate taking its course.
3Judges’ comments
The effect is rather reminiscent of here in English it gives the poem a Storehouse of Stars’, translated from the
Cavafy. In third place came Marina whole repertoire of irony. Winner of the German of Marica Bodrožić, a poet from
Kisluik’s free-verse version of Marina second prize was Andrew Fentham with the former Yugoslavia. It’s a fascinating
Tsvetaeva’s ‘A Mistake’. Isobel Sanders’s his translation of the Hungarian poet and disorientating piece, dramatizing its
raunchy contemporizing of the battle of András Gerevich’s ‘Balaton Accident’. ancestral images from ‘an old language,
the sexes in Propertius 3.8. was highly This grim and meticulous poem about heavy with promises.’ Also commended
commended. a fatal crash introduced me to a poet I was Stewart Anderson’s version of an
The Open Category produced some want to read more of. The unyielding anonymous Akkadian poem ‘Charm To
particularly impressive work, which quality of attention slightly recalled Quiet a Crying Baby’, which includes
made the judges’ task more difficult – Gottfried Benn. There is a documentary the irresistible couplet ‘You have woken
always a welcome state of affairs. The dimension here, but one shadowed by the house god! / The bison is awake!’
winner was Gabi Reigh, with her version the ambiguous position of the speaker. At the risk of stating the obvious, the
of Marin Sorescu’s ‘The Traveller’. In In third place, Antoinette Fawcett contact with poetry in other languages
this hilarious account of the misfor- offered a limpid rendering of the Dutch is an invaluable part of literary and of
tunes which make the traveller feel as Leo Vroman’s pastoral memory ‘Wind- broader cultural activity. It delights;
it were at home, pessimism becomes a Still’. Ms Fawcett was also commended it informs; it helps to provoke the
form of affirmation, black humour a for her arresting translation of Hans wide, disinterested curiosity neces-
liberation. In the grim hotel, ‘The air van der Vegt’s witty and elegant poem sary to the conduct of the examined
smells of prison, the window is nailed of metaphysical enquiry, ‘Journey into life, particularly at a time like this,
shut. / And it would be imprudent to the Known’. when bland ignorance seems to have
open it because the beggars can jump.’ Highly commended was Deirdre begun to regard itself as respectable.
The word ‘imprudent’ is in the original: McMahon with ‘Beneath the World a Translators, please continue your work.
Sean O’Brien
4Winner, 14-and-under category
Так начинают. Года в два... This is the Way
Так начинают. Года в два This is the way they begin, at two -
От мамки рвутся в тьму мелодий, Torn away from their mother’s love
Щебечут, свищут,- а слова They croon and whistle a shadowy tune.
Являются о третьем годе. Their words are formed by the age of three.
Так начинают понимать. This is the way they begin to learn -
И в шуме пущенной турбины To hear in the roar of an engine’s noise
Мерещится, что мать - не мать, That ‘mother’ is not mother at all,
Что ты - не ты, что дом - чужбина. That ‘you’ are not you, that ‘home’ is unknown.
Что делать страшной красоте This is the way they begin to suspect -
Присевшей на скамью сирени, When, upon meeting a beauty they fear
Когда и впрямь не красть детей? And they ask, as they sit on a lilac-bench,
Так возникают подозренья. ‘Why do you steal the mind of a child?’
Так зреют страхи. Как он даст This is the way that fears start to grow,
Звезде превысить досяганье, When one man gives hope to aspiring stars.
Когда он - Фауст, когда - фантаст? When is he demon, when is he dreamer?
Так начинаются цыгане. This is the way their travels begin.
Так открываются, паря This is their way to the open sky,
Поверх плетней, где быть домам бы, Above the walls where no houses stand.
Внезапные, как вздох, моря. A sudden breeze that sighs like the sea
Так будут начинаться ямбы. Is the way their rhythms will start to beat.
Так ночи летние, ничком This is the way they see light summer nights
Упав в овсы с мольбой: исполнься, Fall on their knees face-down in a field,
Грозят заре твоим зрачком. Then threaten and warn the sun to rise.
Так затевают ссоры с солнцем. This is the way that their quarrels begin.
Так начинают жить стихом. This is the way that true poets are made.
Translated from the Russian
BL Pasternak by Katherine Linaker
Katherine Linaker’s commentary
My mother is of Russian origin and has But once the meaning became clearer the about the rhythms or the rhythms of poems;
brought my sister and me up bilingually; style evolved. I decided I could not achieve a he seems to be describing the “iambics” of
she introduced me to Pasternak and told realistic-sounding rhyme scheme to match the poems in an abstract way. I decided the idea
me something about his troubles with the Russian; instead I developed a four-stressed would be clearer if I added “their”.
authorities. When I first read the poem it syllabic beat to give some regularity. Repeating One particular issue was how to translate
seemed abstract; you don’t really know the phrase “This is the way…” created a “Фауст” – literally “Faust”. I thought that many
what the poem is talking about until the last rhythm and link between each stanza. young people reading the poem might not
line, which could have a variety of mean- The poem gave me a number of problems. straight away make the link between Faust (a
ings: “This is the way they start to live with The word “Так” literally means “that’s” but scholar from a German legend who was so dis-
poems”, “This is the way poems start to live” this monosyllabic word didn’t fit in with the satisfied with his life that it led to him giving
or “This is the way poets start to live”. As a four-stress rhythm of each line. So instead I his soul to the devil in exchange for unlimited
result my first literal translation of the poem had to find different ways of saying “In this worldly pleasures) and the idea of a demon, or
seemed confusing, like a set of unconnected way” or “That’s how”. In the fifth stanza a person with no moral integrity. Therefore I
statements. there is no indication that Pasternak is talking had to simplify it and make it clearer.
5First prize, 18-and-under category
Pa Diεm Per Diem: The Need for Expenses
Does that Rolls-Royce Phantom elude you and yours?
Sign up for workshops, seminars and conferences
The cycle, vicious, pitiful;
Foodbanks boom
Don’t listen, clutch your signature Hindmarch!
Focus on – Per Diem
Are you bursting with conference canapes and champagne?
Nod along to lectures, childhood obesity and healthy eating;
Vegetables, cost more, than doughnuts;
Hungry little mouths
Don’t worry about that, fix later; claim expenses!
Pursue your – Per Diem
Retirement planning, endless options: Malta or Portugal?
Your white papers are copious, smeared with the dust of disregard -
Oppose, dare, question.
Sisyphean conference
No comment, classified. Triple Lock decided!
Submit your – Per Diem.
Conference presence, your pretend patriotism; helping your country?
Attend, submit expenses and master those back room deals
DWP, decide, fit to work;
Garrick, Bullingdon; crowd control – the status quo
Reekie, Sanderson, Bottrill are not my problem!
Exist for – Per Diem
6First prize, 18-and-under category (continued)
Stupid enough to go after corporation tax?
Workshops, your entitlement to elusive peace of mind
Services cut, mental health, decline;
Death clasps unsightly rough sleepers close
I don’t worry about them!
Protect your – Per Diem
As long as levels of parliamentary expenses continue to rise
Hard work will see us right!
Icecaps melt, don’t listen to them
Don’t mind them
Don’t worry about them…
I don’t pity the scroungers, nor does Osborne!
Enjoy your - Per Diem
Attend seminars, fact find around the globe
Edit the message for the masses chancellor
Just keep conferencing
White wash memoirs
Daphne Pratt Miracles happen, my knighthood beckons!
Carpe diem;
Expenses – per diem
Translated from the Creole
by Ambah Brondum-Christensen
Ambah Brondum-Christensen’s commentary
I decided to translate this particular poem in Sierra Leone. Poets are primarily perform- The use of dramatic verbs and adjectives
because it focuses on corruption and lack ers and celebrated as such. interspaced with clinically mundane com-
of social responsibility. I immediately saw My approach to the artistic translation mentary is aimed at mimicking the fickleness
parallels to my assessment of British politics. was to preserve its key message but make it of the news cycle and public attention to
The main problem I encountered was relevant to the British audience. I did so by social injustice.
that the use of the second person in Krio referencing topical issues and tragedies like I also highlight the appearance of action
is more intimate than its use in English. the surnames of three people who took their when in reality there isn’t any by presenting
Because of this my translation was sometimes lives due to benefit cuts, our prime minister’s verbs in a different way. ‘Keep conferencing’
inconsistent. I also found it impossible to favourite designer handbag, and former instead of ‘Attend conferencing’. Death is the
directly translate from a language that revels chancellor turned editor. only thing that actually does something in
in implied meaning and very short sentence I decided to focus on rhythm rather than the whole poem.
structures. The tone of voice and body rhyme and to maintain a line in most verses The aim is to leave the reader feeling dis-
language communicates as much as words in the first person. I thought this would satisfied, outraged and slightly mesmerised
do, much more than in English. Poetry is introduce the reasoning of the politician/ by the repetitive use of ‘Per Diem’.
traditionally a spoken not literary discipline official as a discordant note throughout.
7Second prize, 18-and-under category
Orgullo Arquitectónico Architectural Pride
Ahí donde vives vivió gente, There where you live, lived people,
no les oyes, ya se han ido, you don’t hear them, they have already left,
dejaron vacíos jarrones y camas. they left empty vases and empty beds.
Tú estás ahí y eres tú mismo. You are there now and you are the same.
Otros Others
cada día amasan pan, sale otro sol, knead bread each day, another sun rises,
se renueva cada célula, tu cuerpo each cell is renewed, your whole
entero va cambiando, mañana body is changing, tomorrow
otro brazo, otro pie, otra forma de pensar another arm, another foot, another way of thinking
las mismas cosas. the same things.
Sin embargo, However,
la ciudad, con su orgullo arquitectónico the city, with her architectural pride
de hormigón armado y de cristal of reinforced concrete and glass
siempre es la misma: is always the same:
nos va acogiendo, nos va dejando hueco she shelters us, she lends us the space
dentro de ella, nos ve morir indiferente. within her, she watches us die, indifferent.
Alguien vendrá después de ti, Someone will arrive after you,
y quitará el póster donde la infancia duerme, and remove the posters from where children sleep,
pintará de un color que no es el tuyo, paint with a colour that isn’t yours,
alguien extraño vendrá con su vida aparatosa someone strange will come with their spectacular life
y ocupará donde no quedan ni tus pasos ni tu and stay where neither your footprints nor your smell
olor, nor even a sad thought of yours
ni una triste idea de las tuyas. stays any longer.
La ciudad ahí se queda, ahí el sitio que viviste, There the city remains, there the place where you lived,
dentro de nada nadie que conozcas quedará but inside there is nothing, no one you know will be left
para pasar por estas calles, señalar a tu ventana to cross those streets, point at your window
y decir: and say:
mirad, ahí vivió este. Look, I lived there.
Sergio C Fanjul Translated from the Spanish
by Euan McGreevy
Euan McGreevy’s commentary
I chose to translate “Orgullo Arquitectónico” is no more but humankind’s cities live on in ‘la ciudad’ is if it were humankind’s guardian.
as the scene Fanjul creates is not only fasci- remembrance. Having first translated the city using neuter
nating but also based in truth. At first, the As this poem is so modern I could find no pronouns, as would be common in English, I
focus of the poem is on the brevity of our English translation of the poem which gave felt this lost the feeling that the poet creates of
lives – in such a short time the place where me the freedom to truly write my own. For the city actively protecting us. To emphasise
we once lived, now belongs to others. In the the most past I wanted to stay true to the this personification of the city, I decided to
modern day, humanity faces many threats poem but whilst also conveying the sense of draw inspiration from the Spanish and use
and, whist it may seem distant, one day the poem effectively in English. I decided to the pronouns as if the city were a person; ‘her
humanity will succumb to extinction. When keep the structure of the poem very similar to architectural pride’, ‘she shelters us’. I believe
that happens, the great structures we have the original Spanish; such as the length of the this was a closer translation to what the poet
built will remain for thousands of years stanzas and the way the poet uses enjambment had intended - personifying the city gives the
after we no longer exist ourselves. Fanjul to keep the continuity between lines. impression that it is mothering humankind.
paints this picture – a time when humankind In the third stanza Fanjul writes about the
8Third prize, 18-and-under category
Ошибка A Mistake
Когда снежинку, что легко летает, A flying snowflake,
Как звездочка упавшая скользя, Falling like a shooting star…
Берешь рукой - она слезинкой тает, It touches your hand, but melts away,
И возвратить воздушность ей нельзя. as if it is a tear –
It leaves nothing behind.
Когда пленясь прозрачностью медузы,
Ее коснемся мы капризом рук, You try and embrace a jellyfish,
Она, как пленник, заключенный в узы, Which seems no more than a ghost –
Вдруг побледнеет и погибнет вдруг. so pale it is,
Instead, it goes away,
Когда хотим мы в мотыльках- And you’re left there alone with your memories.
скитальцах
Видать не грезу, а земную быль - Now you’re trying to catch a firefly
Где их наряд? От них на наших пальцах In the comfortable silence of the night,
Одна зарей раскрашенная пыль! Trying to catch the invisible beauty,
But, everything you are left with
Оставь полет снежинкам с Is harsh reality –
мотыльками Your fingers, covered with coloured dust,
И не губи медузу на песках! Are all you’re left with.
Нельзя мечту свою хватать руками,
Нельзя мечту свою держать в руках! You are the one disturbing them,
But now just leave them all alone!
Нельзя тому, что было грустью зыбкой,
Сказать: “Будь страсть! Горя Don’t lock your dreams,
безумствуй, рдей!” And, stop trying to hold them,
Твоя любовь была такой ошибкой, - Or otherwise they’ll fade away.
Но без любви мы гибнем. Чародей!
Stop forcing sadness into passion,
Marina Tsvetaeva Stop trying to wake up.
Your love was so misleading,
But due to it I bothered to wake up.
Translated from the Russian
by Marina Kisluik
Marina Kisluik’s commentary
Brought up surrounded by Russian lit- the lines. However, I wouldn’t choose How often do people make mistakes?
erature, I was always fascinated by the poets to translate it just for that reason. In my And, can we say that love is sometimes
whose works became part of so called Silver opinion, this poem is uncommon in a way a mistake? But isn’t it true that a human
Age of the Russian poetry. Russian was in which Marina Tsvetaeva describes love. cannot fully be a human if he doesn’t have
my first language, yet the works of Marina How subtly she talks about it! Weightless this great emotion? And, as the answers to
Tsvetaeva,who has put a great effort into subjects described in the poem are close in these questions are controversial, maybe
the development of Russian poetry, always their meanings to dreams that are cherished Tsvetaeva meant that every single one of us
seemed rather mysterious to me. I could read by every single human being: the snowflake is waiting for the great miracle in our lives?
them again and again, and still quite an easy melts, the jellyfish dies and the firefly dies And this miracle must be true love…it is
rhyme would make the meaning fade. away. Thus, we dream about everything said that translation is hard and sophisti-
“A Mistake” is peculiar and unique pre- beautiful and unusual, however we can cated work as the translator must not only
cisely in that way – it’s written in an easy never be sure that those dreams will come transfer the author’s words, but also transfer
manner, though with a hidden philosophical true, and if they do, would it make us his thoughts. I hope my attempt to do that
meaning which needs to be read between happier? was successful.
9Winner, Open category
Calatorul The Traveller
Apele peste care am trecut The waters through which I have passed
Mi-au dat ca amintire un mic licar sub piele. Have left the memory of a lake under my skin.
Nu mai pot pasi sprinten, cu avant, I can no longer walk briskly, gain speed,
Decat daca am talpa plina de bataturi, Unless my feet are covered in blisters,
Daca-mi e toata ca un teren mlastinos, Unless I’m in a swamp
In care te scufunzi imperceptibil. Where I am imperceptibly sinking.
Somnul nu-mi mai vine decat stand chircit, Sleep won’t come unless I’m crouching
Undeva pe geamantan, langa o usa de vagon Over a suitcase, near the door
Supraaglomerat, Of an overcrowded carriage,
Trezit din motaiala de fiecare calator care urca sau Disturbed from dozing by every passenger getting on
Coboara. Or off the train.
Intre aceste pauze am cele mai frumoase vise, In between these breaks I have the most beautiful dreams...
Toate intrerupte brusc, din pacate. Unfortunately, all abruptly interrupted.
Ah,somnul in pat strain, neutru, Ah, to sleep in a strange, neutral bed,
De hotel de mana a treia! In a third class hotel!
Cazi trasnit pe dormeza slinoasa, jilava, usor inclinata. You drop on the slimy, shabby, slightly uneven mattress.
In camera e un aer de puscarie, geamul e prins in cuie. The air smells of prison, the window is nailed shut.
Si-ar fi imprudent sa-l deschizi ca sar cersetorii. And it would be imprudent to open it because the beggars can
jump.
Pe la miezul noptii, te trezeste durerea
In coaste, pricinuita de arcuri, Around midnight, you’re woken up
Bajbai si nu stii de unde se aprinde lumina. By an ache in the ribs, sore arches.
Unde esti? In ce oras? You fumble, can’t find the light switch.
Te crezi tot in tren si-astepti conductorul Where are you? What town?
“spuneti-mi, va rog, ce statie urmeaza?” You wake up on a train and wait for the conductor
‘What’s the next station, please?’
Uneori e adevarat, esti chiar in accelerat!
In vagonul lit. Ai vrut sa-ti faci damblaua. You’re losing it.
Pe geam nu recunosti nimic, Out of the window, you recognise nothing,
Peisajul poate fi la fel de bine You could be in Switzerland, or Italy or the moon.
Elvetian, ori italian, daca nu chiar din luna. The trees are changing second by second,
Copacii se schimba din secunda-n secunda, Sentinels guarding a corpse in a hurry,
Ca niste sentinele de garda Or telegrams received in a battle
La un mort grabit, Where the result is uncertain.
Ori ca telegramele primite intr-o batalie You are the commander, you receive them, open them,
Ca rezultat nesigur. But the telegrams are encrypted
Tu esti comandantul, tu le primesti, le deschizi, And you have forgotten the code of leaves.
Tot statul major se uita in gura ta, asteapta ordinele,
Dar telegramele sunt cifrate
Si-ai uitat cifrul frunzelor.
10Winner, Open category
Nu ma simt bine decat I am not well unless
Buimac, incomod, Confused, uncomfortable,
Stand intr-un picior pe-o batatura Standing on one foot on a blister
Agatat de-o bara, spanzurat de-un pervaz, Clutching on a rail, hanging from a windowsill,
Pe-o scara de serviciu, By the tradesmen’s entrance,
Trebuind sa dau fuga pana la mama dracului, Running like hell
Carand patru geamantae mari, pline cu lucruri nefolositoare, Carrying great suitcases full of useless things
Renuntand din cauza lor la singurul obiect Leaving behind the only
Important: umbrela (peste tot cand esti calator, ploua de rupe). Useful object: an umbrella (because wherever you’re a traveller,
it always rains buckets).
Nu ma simt bine decat rau,
schiopatand, I am not well unless I’m sick,
Incercanat Limping,
Azvarlit in strada de propria-mi neliniste... Dark-circled,
Hurled into the street by my own restlessness…
Mereu pe drumuri, impins ca de-un sut in rarunchi,
Cu ochii holbati, ca in preajma minunii. Forever on the road, pushed as if by a kick in the ribs,
Wide-eyed, like in the presence of a miracle.
Marin Sorescu
Translated from the Romanian
by Gabi Reigh
Gabi Reigh’s commentary
Reading ‘Calatorul’, I’m reminded of Pascal’s me the feelings that still draw me to travel, uses more lyrical images (‘the code of leaves’)
comment that ‘the sole cause of man’s unhap- the compulsive need to experience something to convey how travel transforms the world
piness is that he does not know how to stay new, a restlessness perhaps born out of being into something new and unfamiliar. He some-
quietly in his room’. The beauty of the poem, an immigrant and not feeling a sense of times uses unexpectedly formal words such as
for me, is that it celebrates this unhappiness. belonging to any particular place. ‘imprudent’, almost mimicking the voice of a
His traveller is only ‘happy’ when stripped One of the things that I found most chal- travel guide warning travellers how to keep
of all comfort and familiarity, released from lenging was recreating the tone of the poem themselves safely insulated from the social
habit and disorientated. as closely as possible. Sorescu is known for realities of the countries they are voyaging
I first came across this poem when I was his ironical tone, which he achieves chiefly through. I wanted to keep these shifts in tone
studying English at UCL and we had been through his use of colloquial language. I from the original poem because I felt they
asked to bring to a seminar a poem that we tried to find appropriate colloquialisms from expressed the nuances of the traveller’s experi-
liked. Having moved from Romania as a English which convey the same meaning yet ence - the banal discomforts, the moments of
teenager, I wanted to share my country’s do not sound crude or cliched. In contrast to exhilaration, the fear of the unknown.
poetry with others. The poem captures for the colloquial, prosaic language, Sorescu also
11Second prize, Open category
Balatoni baleset Balaton Accident
1. 1.
Este iszapszagot hoz a szél, Sewage smell on the wind here
egy kitekeredett, elfelejtett autó alatt as brake oil sticks to the tarmac
a fékolajtól ragad a langyos aszfalt. under a single mangled car.
Egy ember fekszik a földön, A man is lying on the ground
fejében most ürül ki with all thought draining out
gondolatainak labirintusa. from the labyrinth of his head.
2. 2.
Elpárolognak az emlékei: a test fénnyé lesz. Memories vaporise: the body becomes
Elnyeli a sötétet a pulzáló láng, a pulsing light, a flame to eat the dark
majd felemészti önmagát. Összepréselődik and then itself. The car chassis
az alváz, mint az eltaposott bogár, is compacted like a trampled bug,
meggörbül az acél, mint a világ tengelye. steel bending – an axis mundi.
Csak a megtört fémtörzs roncsa marad, Only this written-off frame, a shorted
zárlatos vezetékek szikrázó idegrendszere, nervous system of sparking wires
és az emberi testben az elroncsolt, and these split, squashed, torn
átszakadt, feltépett, szétzúzott szervek. human entrails. The soul departs
A távozó lélek megcsillan a ködben, through fog, candescent as the neons
mint a parti striptízbár neonfénye. outside the strip clubs. Coolant
Elpárolog a hűtővíz és a vér. pools with blood, and evaporates.
A csóva körül szúnyograj zümmög, Mosquitos cloud around the flare,
denevérek cikáznak az autórom felett, bats zigzag over the wreckage
és egy rókacsalád bújik elő a bokorból, and foxes lope from the bushes
megkóstolják és szétcsócsálják a tetemet. to test the body and gnaw on it.
Megérzik a húsban, a peték belsejében Worm eggs buried in the flesh
a férgek, hogy eljött az idejük, kibújnak feel their time arrive and hatch
zabálni, és labirintust rágnak a testbe. to chew a maze into the corpse.
12Second prize, Open category
3. 3.
Lefekszel a földre. Nyomják a hátadat Lie down here. Press your back
a kavicsok, göröngyök és rozsdás csavarok. against the clods, stones, rusty screws.
Hallod a balatoni diszkó messzi The clubs roar on at the lake,
dübörgését, other cars burr along other
a távoli sztrádán az autók úgy búgnak, roads, like exhausted strippers.
mint munka után a sztriptíztáncosok.
You ran away from home again
Elcsavarogsz, és elképzeled and now you picture each moment
a saját halálod minden pillanatát: of dying yourself: the car hitting,
átgázol rajtad egy autó, érzed a vér szagát. the blood taste. You smile
Látják, ahogy meghalsz, mosolyogsz, to see the faces in the crowd
Ahogy átrajzolja az arcokat a gyász. rearranged with grief. Lie down
Feküdj le és figyeled, ahogy elnyeli and watch the strobes and vibrations
a diszkó stroboszkóp pulzálása of the clubs disturb the fireflies,
a mezőn a szentjánosbogarak fényét and the star-labyrinth of sky.
és a csillagok fénylabirintusát.
Translated from the Hungarian
András Gerevich by Andrew Fentham
Andrew Fentham’s commentary
Clare Pollard has praised the ‘commin- a short time teaching English as a foreign to communicate the new confusion in the
gling of lucid style and complex emotion, language in Hungary. poet’s work, whilst striving, where possible,
innocence and guilt’ in the work of András Another reason for choosing this poem was to retain in it that which Szirtes has elsewhere
Gerevich. It was this mix which attracted that it had not yet been translated into English called ‘so clear, so pellucid’.
me to Gerevich’s work, and especially to (as yet uncollected even in the Hungarian). This poem was translated in dialogue
‘Balatoni baleset’. The poet has published The poem is recent, and the poet’s latest work with the poet. Gerevich provided a literal
four collections in his native Hungarian seems written less by a man who Szirtes once translation in English which, with reference
and collections in translation have appeared described as having ‘perfect balance’ than one to the original, I fashioned into the submit-
across Europe, though not in the UK, who tells himself, as does the speaker in this ted translation. The poet also altered his
despite a collection appearing in English translation, ‘Lie down here. Press your back original in response to what he found useful
from Corvina in Budapest. These English / against the clods, stones, rusty screws.’ As or insightful in early draft translations. The
translations, made by George Szirtes, a newcomer to the Hungarian language, I work was partly carried out during a resi-
Christopher Whyte et al, were my intro- cannot yet hope to attain perfect balance in dency at the Magyar ForditóHáz (Hungarian
duction to the poet. I contacted him after translation. My approach instead has been Translators’ House), Balatonfüred.
13Third prize, Open category
Windstil Wind-still
Ik droomde bijna dat ik sliep I almost dreamt I was asleep
en door een wijde polderweide liep and walking through a water meadow
en in de stille lentehitte and in the silent heat of spring
zag ik de doodstil staande witte I saw the stock-still silent white
schermbloemen langs de sloot, cow-parsley blooming by the ditch
want er was geen wind in a deathly hush, for there was no wind,
en boven de dijk de witte and high and white above the dyke
slappe zeilen van een boot, the slack sails of a wind-stilled boat
ze gleden zoals de IJssel stroomde that glided as the Ijssel flowed
want er was geen wind for there was no wind
waar ik van droomde I was dreaming of
en over het dijkpad reden across the dyke-path cyclists rode
fietsers want ik hooarde het grind because I heard the gravelly sound
van tachtig jaar geleden of eighty years ago
en verder niets and that was it
Leo Vroman Translated from the Dutch
by Antoinette Fawcett
Antoinette Fawcett’s commentary
The word ‘wind-still’ doesn’t exist in collection Daar – a kind of diary of poems found powerful, but in a much more pared-
English, but it is a compound word that I and sketches, in which Vroman was almost down and seemingly casual way than some
believe most English speakers would intui- literally gesturing ‘over there’, the place or of the perhaps more famous earlier pieces.
tively understand, particularly in the context point where he would be at his death, and In translating the poem I have tried to
of this poem. To translate the word – as a perhaps after (although he had no conven- retain the clarity of the imagery, which
dictionary would – as ‘windless’ or ‘calm’ tional views on any kind of afterlife). conveys the hyper-reality of a near-dream
wouldn’t give the sense that something that I first came across Vroman’s poems many state, and have worked with sounds and
was active – full of breath, and life, and spirit years ago, when I was immersing myself rhythms. I have not used exactly the same
– has come to a halt. What might seem like in Dutch poetry, trying to discover what I rhyme-patterning, as I didn’t wish to stiffen
an over-literal translation of the Dutch word liked, what made an impact on me. I was the natural flow of the words, wanting
‘windstil’ is, in fact, a considered choice, struck then by the nakedness of Vroman’s them to move as freely as they do in the
selected for its effect within the full poetic words, as well as the vivid imagery and often Dutch. Instead I have used fleeting rhymes,
dynamic. idiosyncratic mode of expression. This short assonances and alliterations to catch the
The poem was published in Vroman’s 2011 poem, which I discovered recently, I also stillness – and sound – that is heard.
14Highly Commended, Open category
Unter Der Welt Ein Sternenlager Beneath The World A Storehouse Of Stars
UNTER DER WELT EIN STERNENLAGER, BENEATH THE WORLD A STOREHOUSE OF STARS,
ein Schiff, ein Hall, ein gemittelter a ship, an echo, a levelled
Bootsteg – mitunter hintan ein baumloser landing stage, now and then a treeless plain
Blick in jedwede Ebene. Stimmen, ach ja, viewed from every side.
aus der Erinnerung, Voices, oh yes,
aus dem Land erster Beschlüsse, from memory,
vielleicht auch ein Pfad from that land of first decisions,
aus dem Vorratslager der Bilder: perhaps also a path
Mein Käferleben out of my treasury of images:
Mein falkenleichtes Herz. my life, vulnerable as a ladybird,
Meerströme, mehr Wasserwege, my heart, falcon-light.
mehr vom Tauwasser der Träume. Ocean currents, more watery waymarks,
Dann aber, welche Schönheit, more from the dew-water of dreams.
ein richtiger Wintertag auf der Erde But then, what beauty
Erlösung aus dem Verschlag a true winter’s day on earth
einer alten Sprache. Versprechensschwere. deliverance from the pen
Losgebundenheit dann doch, of an old language, heavy with promises.
das Über-den-Wind-Stellen, Untetheredness then,
eigene Schwüre vergessen that soaring above the wind
und neugelöst sein, neubesprochen, forgetting one’s own oaths,
neu entbunden, hinausgegangen newly freed and freshly promised,
aus der Verkehrung einer Warze. new-born, gone forth,
Lebendigkeit, das Streben der Sterne the transcendence of a wart.
in die Zellen. Mein Wahrheitsanspruch, Liveliness, the striving of the stars
eine Sekunde Bienennebel. Weben. into my cells. My demand for truth
Gewoben sein vom Ganzen. an instant of humming bees. Weaving,
Jetzt aber vorerst ein Schlaf being woven from the whole.
aus innersten Kammern. But first, drawing sleep
Wörter und Durchgänge, from the innermost chambers.
Eine Krume Liebe. Eine Stunde Words and passageways,
Immerland. Eine bindelose Woche, a crumb of love, An hour
Leben. of everland. A week untied
Living.
Marica Bodrožić
Translated from the German
(Source text from Ein Kolibri kam by Deirdre McMahon
unverwandelt, page 84. Marica Bodrožić.
Salzburg-Wien: Otto Müller Verlag)
Deirdre McMahon’s commentary
This poem is the final one in Marica relationship with language, frequently memory, treasury of images, ‘personhood’,
Bodrožic’s first poetry collection Ein Kolibri inventing new words and compounds and freedom and salvation through the German
kam unverwandelt, published in 2007. It finding new and original links between language. She sees herself as having escaped
summarises many of the questions and words which challenge her reader’s precon- from the Verschlag (Line 14) [hovel, shed,
themes posed through the collection, offers ceptions and expectations. coop] of an old language. I translated this
direction and confidence to the poet-speaker The opening surprises us with the as ‘pen’, playing on its meaning as cage and
of the first poem. Sternenlager, a neologism meaning stock, writing implement.
This poem embodies and expresses many depot or storehouse of stars lying beneath Through the poem Bodrožić plays with
of Bodrožic’s preoccupations –journeys, rather than above the world, as Bodrožić ideas of freedom and tethered-ness. She also
history and memory, truth and integrity and invites us to consider what lies beneath or plays with the senses – the sound of bees
above all, the nature of language itself. Born within everyday reality. The tone of the humming in the neologism Bienennebel - fog
in the former Yugoslavia, where she lived poem is transcendent as the poet unites of bees, the sensation of weightlessness, yet
with relatives, Bodrožić moved to Germany past, present and future into a life that is eine being grounded by an essential truth. This
to live with her parents and siblings at the Stunde Immerland – an hour of eternity. The poem is an affirmation of life itself.
age of ten. She writes only in German. poem brings together many of Bodrožić’s
Bodrožić has an imaginative and playful ‘key’ words and concepts such as dew-water,
15The Stephen Spender Trust
Stephen Spender Prize There are prizes in three categories: Open,
in association with the Guardian 18-and-under and 14-and-under. For many
of the younger entrants, the competition is
The idea of a poetry translation competi- an introduction to poetry in another language
tion for young people was born of a and a first attempt at poetry translation; for
discussion with the late Daniel Weissbort the adult translators, winning can bring
(co-founder with Ted Hughes of the journal public recognition and publishing contracts
Modern Poetry in Translation) and Susan as well as, for a lucky few, a Hawthornden
Bassnett (founder and Director of Warwick Fellowship.
University’s Centre for Translation and Booklets of winning entries from previ-
Comparative Cultural Studies). At the ous years can be obtained from the Trust or
time, young people studying languages downloaded from its website (www.stephen-
rarely encountered literature, translation spender.org), which also provides advice for
was frowned upon (it is now back on the entrants, an attempt (with examples) by
curriculum) and language learning had former judge George Szirtes to categorise
ceased to be compulsory after the age of 14. translated poetry, and a growing bank of
Paradoxically, as the message went out that poetry translation activities aimed at teachers.
languages were not valued by educational
policy-makers, the number of children in
UK schools with mother tongues other than Stephen and Natasha Spender
English was growing and has continued to Stephen Spender – poet, critic,
grow ever since. Stephen and Natasha Spender’s manuscripts,
editor and translator – lived from
The annual Stephen Spender Prize was letters, diaries and other personal papers
launched in 2004 in partnership with The 1909 to 1995. Inspired by his are available to readers in the University
Times under Erica Wagner’s literary editor- literary interests and achievements, of Oxford’s Bodleian Library. A House
ship and with the support of Arts Council the Stephen Spender Trust was set in St John’s Wood, Matthew Spender’s
England. Thirteen years later, and now in up to widen appreciation of the intimate portrait of Stephen and Natasha
partnership with the Guardian, the prize literary legacy of Stephen Spender Spender (William Collins, 2015), draws on
continues to celebrate the art of literary his personal memories and unpublished
translation and encourage a new generation
and his contemporaries and promote material found in the north London house
of literary translators. literary translation. his parents had rented since 1941. It supple-
Entrants are invited to translate a poem ments Stephen Spender’s New Selected Poems
from any language – ancient or modern – into (ed. Grey Gowrie, Faber, 2009), his New
English, and submit both the original and shed light on the translation process, reveal- Collected Poems (ed. Michael Brett, Faber,
their translation together with a commentary ing the decisions the translators have made 2004), the New Selected Journals (ed. John
of not more than 300 words. The commen- and the solutions they have come up with, as Sutherland and Lara Feigel, Faber, 2012) and
tary – a requirement described by AS Byatt well as each translator’s reason for choosing John Sutherland’s authorised biography of
as ‘splendidly intelligent’ – is intended to a particular poem. Stephen Spender (Penguin, 2005).
For more information about the Stephen Spender Trust and its activities, please visit
www.stephen-spender.org
or email info@stephenspender.org
16The Stephen Spender Trust Patrons Lady Antonia Fraser cbe, Lord Gowrie pc, Tony Harrison, Drue Heinz dbe, David Hockney ch, Christopher MacLehose cbe, Lois Sieff obe, Prudence Skene cbe, Wole Soyinka, Matthew Spender, Philip Spender, Richard Stone obe, Sir Tom Stoppard om, cbe, John Sutherland President Sir Michael Holroyd cbe Committee Sarah Ardizzone, Jonathan Barker mbe*, Sasha Dugdale*, Michael Englard, Warwick Gould, Harriet Harvey Wood obe, Jonathan Heawood, Joanna Hunter, Karen Leeder, Caroline Moorehead cbe, David Rogers (Chair), Saskia Spender, Tim Supple *Also a Trustee Cover image © the Estate of Humphrey Spender
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