đ Attempting to Translate Tagore
As a young child, i was briefly trained in Indian classical music, a largely devotional form, dedicated to the veneration of Hindu deities. i wasn't particularly interested in it, for, even as a child, i had a sneaking suspicion that god was a figment of adult imaginations, and religion a farce to sustain their delusions, while imposing control on me and my fellow children. But alongside the devotionals, i was also taught a modern, secular form of Indian lyricism: āĻ°āĻŦā§āĻ¨ā§āĻĻā§āĻ°āĻ¸āĻāĻā§āĻ¤ â the musical works of Rabindranath Tagore, in which he wrote secular lyrics to accompany the melodic frames of Indian classical music.
Unsurprisingly, i dropped out of these classes very quickly due to my aforementioned disinterest, though i am told that i was fairly competent, and my exam results reflect the claim. Well over a decade has passed since then, and while the devotionals have disappeared from my memory entirely, i do remember one song by Rabindranath Tagore quite vividly: āĻāĻ˛ā§ āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻ°, āĻāĻ˛ā§ āĻāĻā§, and i'd like to take a stab at translating it.
Now, Tagore was famous for translating his own writings into English, but i'd like to try my hand at it as well, as practice, and i will enclose Tagore's own translation at the end.
But first, the text itself:
āĻāĻ˛ā§ āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻ°, āĻāĻ˛ā§ āĻāĻā§, āĻāĻ˛ā§ āĻā§āĻŦāĻ¨-āĻāĻ°āĻž āĨ¤
āĻāĻ˛ā§ āĻ¨ā§āĻ¨-āĻ§ā§āĻā§āĻž āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻ°, āĻāĻ˛ā§ āĻšā§āĻĻā§-āĻšāĻ°āĻž āĨ¤āĻ¨āĻžāĻā§ āĻāĻ˛ā§ āĻ¨āĻžāĻā§, āĻ āĻāĻžāĻ, āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻžāĻŖā§āĻ° āĻāĻā§āĻā§,
āĻŦāĻžāĻā§ āĻāĻ˛ā§ āĻŦāĻžāĻā§, āĻ āĻāĻžāĻ, āĻšā§āĻĻā§āĻŦā§āĻŖāĻžāĻ° āĻŽāĻžāĻā§,
āĻāĻžāĻā§ āĻāĻāĻžāĻļ, āĻā§āĻā§ āĻŦāĻžāĻ¤āĻžāĻ¸, āĻšāĻžāĻ¸ā§ āĻ¸āĻāĻ˛ āĻ§āĻ°āĻž āĨ¤āĻāĻ˛ā§āĻ° āĻ¸ā§āĻ°ā§āĻ¤ā§ āĻĒāĻžāĻ˛ āĻ¤ā§āĻ˛ā§āĻā§ āĻšāĻžāĻāĻžāĻ° āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻāĻžāĻĒāĻ¤āĻŋ
āĻāĻ˛ā§āĻ° āĻĸā§āĻāĻ¯āĻŧā§ āĻāĻ āĻ˛ āĻŽā§āĻ¤ā§ āĻŽāĻ˛ā§āĻ˛āĻŋāĻāĻž āĻŽāĻžāĻ˛āĻ¤ā§ āĨ¤āĻŽā§āĻā§ āĻŽā§āĻā§ āĻ¸ā§āĻ¨āĻž, āĻ āĻāĻžāĻ āĻ¯āĻžāĻ¯āĻŧāĻ¨āĻž āĻŽāĻžāĻ¨āĻŋāĻ āĻā§āĻ¨āĻž,
āĻĒāĻžāĻ¤āĻžāĻ¯āĻŧ āĻĒāĻžāĻ¤āĻžāĻ¯āĻŧ āĻšāĻžāĻ¸āĻŋ āĻ āĻāĻžāĻ, āĻĒā§āĻ˛āĻ āĻ°āĻžāĻļāĻŋ āĻ°āĻžāĻļāĻŋ āĨ¤
āĻ¸ā§āĻ°āĻ¨āĻĻā§āĻ° āĻā§āĻ˛ āĻĄā§āĻŦā§āĻā§ āĻ¸ā§āĻ§āĻž-āĻ¨āĻŋāĻāĻ°-āĻāĻ°āĻž āĨ¤
Here is how i translated it:
My light, o light, light-filled world,
My eyes, awash with light, my heart, lightbound.Light dances in my soul,
Light rings in my heartstrings,
The skies awaken, the wind rises, the earth roars with laughter.A thousand butterflies take flight in a stream of light,
Lilies and jasmine dance in waves of light.The clouds are shot with shards of gold, innumerable jewels,
Leaves laugh, brimming with joy,
The rivers of paradise have broken their banks, flooding radiance through the land.
It would appear that poetry, in contrast to prose, is far, far tougher to translate. i could not maintain the lyricism, nor the meter of the original and had to settle for conveying an approximation of the text's intent.
And finally, Tagore's own translation:
Light, my light, the world-filling light,
the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light!Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life;
the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love;
the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth.The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light. Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light.
The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling, and it scatters gems in profusion.
Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure.
The heaven's river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad.1