Saturday 30 July 2011

Pia Tafdrup's poem for Norway



Seven Dresses for Visibility
by Pia Tafdrup


I am sewing a dress that can be worn
proudly by one who is born with
an expectant spark in the heart’s vessels,
it will perfectly fit large and small,
is spun strong by the bow of the rain
it can be enjoyed a whole life long,
if the cloth is looked after well.

I am sewing a dress that can be worn
silently by new victims of fear,
it can fit large and small,
does not hide vulnerability
as droves of birds are hunted
out of the tree's dense crown,
the fabric flutters in the wind.

I am sewing a dress that can be worn
lightly by new victims of hate,
it is coloured red by blood
and has thunder-black borders,
it can fit large and small,
those who least of all will think
that one should change before the night.

I am sewing a dress that can be worn
by the victims of a cold cynicism
it can fit large and small,
its crazy fabric is made
of fire no downpour will quench,
it will be a reminder that the earth
may open up at any time at all.

I am sewing a dress that can cover
dried blood on the victims of death,
it can hide large and small,
it is shaped by the deep furrows
of tears across the cheek,
the cloth matches the walls of the dark,
the peace in each grave on the planet.

I am sewing a dress that can be worn
in a misty haze of sorrow’s
victims, designed for relatives
and friends of the deceased,
it can fit large and small,
anger’s first light is visible
between lead-grey threads of pain.

I am sewing the dress that can be worn
securely by one who knows hope,
woven in are the laughter of friends,
quiet tears of joy, the desire
to wake up in spite
of life the disaster took
– it reflects the rays of the sun.

translated from the Danish by David McDuff


Syv kjoler for synlighheden

Jeg syr en kjole, som kan bæres
stolt af den, der fødes med
forventningsgnist i hjertets kar,
den passer fuldendt stor og lille,
spindes stærkt af regnens bue,
den kan nydes hele livet,
hvis der værnes godt om klædet.

Jeg syr en kjole, som kan bæres
tyst af frygtens nye offer,
den kan passe stor og lille,
skjuler ikke sårbarhed,
som flokkevis af fugle jages
ud af træets tætte krone,
flagrer stoffet op i vinden.

Jeg syr en kjole, som kan bæres
let af hadets nye offer,
den er farvet rød af blodet
og har tordensorte kanter,
den kan passe stor og lille,
den, der mindst af alt vil tro,
der skulle skiftes tøj før natten.

Jeg syr en kjole, som kan bæres
af en kold kynismes offer,
den kan passe stor og lille,
kjolens vanvidsstof er gjort
af ild, som ingen skylregn slukker,
den skal minde om, at jorden
når som helst kan åbne sig.

Jeg syr en kjole, som kan dække
størknet blod på dødens offer,
den kan skjule stor og lille,
den er formet efter grådens
dybe furer over kinden,
klædet matcher mørkets vægge,
freden i hver grav på kloden.

Jeg syr en kjole, som kan bæres
i en tågedøs af sorgens
offer, viet til en slægtning
og til venner af den døde,
den kan passe stor og lille,
vredens første lys er synligt
mellem blygrå smertetråde.

Jeg syr på kjolen, som kan bæres
trygt af den, der kender håbet,
vævet ind er venners latter,
stille glædestårer, lysten
til at vågne op på trods
af liv, som katastrofen tog
– den reflekterer solens stråler.


Pia Tafdrup is one of the major contemporary Danish poets working today, and her work has been translated into more than thirty languages. She is the author of more than twenty books, several of which have been translated into English, and the recipient of numerous awards – including Scandinavia's prestigious Nordic Council Literature Prize for Queen's Gate (1999), which was published in David McDuff's English translation by Bloodaxe Books in 2001. Also in 2001, she was appointed a Knight of the Order of Dannebrog, and in 2006 she received the Nordic Prize from the Swedish Academy. Her latest work translated into English is Tarkovsky's Horses and other poems (Bloodaxe Books, 2010), combining The Whales in Paris (2002) and Tarkovsky's Horses (2006).

She wrote 'Seven Dresses for Visibility' after the July 22 tragedy in Norway. It was published in Politiken (Denmark’s most important newspaper), was read on Danish radio, and will be published in the Swedish newspaper Dagens Nyheter. This English translation by David McDuff was first published by World Literature Today, and then reprinted in The Times and on Nordic Voices. Many thanks to the poet and translator for their permission to reprint it here.

2 comments:

Danish dog said...

I don't know who told you Politiken was "Denmark's most important newspaper". That's a biased statement. It's like saying The Guardian is the most important newspaper in the UK. Some people might think it is, but it's not an uncontested fact.

Anyway, this is a lovely poem! And a splendid translation!

Thomas Bredsdorff of Politiken wrote a note underneath the poem that translates to:

"We are born with great expectations. And these can be so cruelly dashed by events such as those on Utöya and in Oslo on Friday. The poet, Pia Tafdrup, has a great knack for connecting violent events in the world with the simple symbolism of the fairytale - which also involves promises. In the end fear, hate and cynicism must once again yield to hope. May reality match the poem."

Apart from the message of hope, there are seven conditions/passions Pia Tafdrup names, with seven stanzas each of seven lines - fairytale elements.
So I think that was well spotted.

It's very cool of you to post the Danish version too. McDuff has an impossible task when it comes to translating the variation in the first line of the final stanza, where the speaker is sewing 'on' ("syr på") the dress, rather than just sewing a dress, which actually has the sense that she is less making something from scratch and more working on something she's already got, with a suggestion too of perhaps also improvising. Really, totally, absolutely impossible to translate with the form at hand.

The word “trygt” in the final stanza is a very difficult word to render well in English. It really means "with a feeling of being safe and secure". But “securely” is the inadequate best.

There are several words in Danish that simply can't be translated to English without using several words and even then it feels wrong. It's like Danes have some concepts that other nations don't have. It says a lot about their unique culture. I think it's similar in Norway, and Pia Tafdrup obviously can identify very closely with what these events have meant in Norway, but at the same time she has the advantage of being able to look on as an outsider. The Norwegians themselves must be so devastated they won't know how to pen anything for a while.

Duncan (who has lived 25 years in Denmark)

Danish dog said...

Nice translation by David McDuff! I'm a teacher who's lived in Denmark for 25 years, and I pride myself on accurate and fluent translations from Danish to English, i.e. this is no mean praise.

He has an impossible task though when it comes to translating the variation in the first line of the final stanza, where N is sewing 'on' ("syr på") the dress, rather than just sewing a dress, which actually has the sense that she is working on it less strictly than before, less making something from scratch and more working on something she's already got, with a suggestion too of perhaps also improvising. Really, totally absolutely impossible to translate with the form at hand.

And the word “trygt” in the final stanza is also impossible to render well in English. It means "with a feeling of being safe and secure". But “securely” is the best there is for that in the space available.

Norway and Denmark have a similar language and culture, and thus Pia Tafdrup is close enough to identify with what the country is going through, yet at just enough of a distance to be able to seee the big picture. Quite a remarkable poem the more I think about it. My guess is that the Norwegians themselves will need more time before they can express anything quite as considered as this.

David Mcduff writes on his blog, Nordic Voices: "The Danish text of the poem is on this page of Politiken's e-edition (left-hand page, right-hand column, click to enlarge)":

http://www.e-pages.dk/politiken/7061/18

I have translated Politikens Thomas Bredsdorff’s note that came after the poem to:

“We are born with great expectations. And these can be so cruelly dashed by events such as those on Utöya and in Oslo on Friday. The poet, Pia Tafdrup, has a great knack for connecting violent events in the world with the simple symbolism of the fairytale - which also involves promises. Fear, hate and cynicism must finally yield to hope once more. May reality match the poem.”

This point about the fairytale is useful in order to see “where the poet is coming from”. The seven stanzas of seven lines each underline this fairytale feel. Fairytales with their archetypes are a useful way of tackling big issues. They can always speak to our sense of humour even when things have turned really nasty.

Duncan Gillies MacLaurin

PS Politiken is an important newspaper, but to claim it is the most important in Denmark is presumptuous. It’s like saying The Guardian is the most important newspaper in the UK. Some may think so, but it is hardly an undisputed fact.