Zelda is being remembered on her anniversary. For a tribute, go here. For a set of links to articles by Marcia Falk, Lea Aini, and Rami Saari, and examples of her poems (in English) beyond the one given below, go here. Better yet, in Hebrew: here; here; and here. The best online introduction to Zelda and her poetry is, without a doubt, this piece by Varda Koch Ocker.
I will begin by quoting Marcia
Falk on translating Zelda’s poetry. What Falk has to say applies a
fortiori to translating the poetry of the Bible.
I believed then as I still do today – that to make a text one’s own one
has to encounter it deeply, embracing its beauties and its flaws, ultimately
giving oneself over to it entirely. It seemed to me at the time that such total
surrender to the words of another required a fundamental affinity for that
other’s voice. Yet here I found myself translating poetry that I would not –
could not – have written, and that I was not even sure I fully understood. Religious
lyrics infused with a visionary wildness, Zelda’s poems were utterly unique, not
part of any poetic school in Hebrew letters. In both sensibility and form, they
were not just unlike anything I might have written but distinct from anything I
had read – as the poet herself was very different from anyone I had known.
Falk’s evocation of Zelda’s poetry and the
craft of poetry translation is splendid. She will not be surprised that I do
not reproduce her
excellent translation of Zelda’s לכל איש יש שם. The
work of translation is of a piece with giving oneself over to it entirely.
A student of biblical Hebrew at the intermediate or advanced level ought to
be able to read this poem without vowels and without the use of the dictionary with
the sole exception of the words I list in the glossary. That’s a slight
exaggeration, but words not in the glossary are
found in BDB or HALOT.
A couple of notes on the translation. Hebrew qatal, like the Greek
aorist, has an omnitemporal use adequately expressed in English by the
so-called present. In my opinion, that is how Zelda uses qatal in this
poem. One might suggest otherwise based on the first stanzas of the poem, but
the last stanza of the poem is proof positive I think that an omnitemporal
sense is intended – equivalent to the gnomic aorist, let me point out, for the
sake of those who are reading this and know ancient Greek. Note also the
"gender-neutral" use of איש in the poem, and the
"gender-neutral" use of the third masculine singular pronoun throughout. David
Stein and I have been going back and forth on this subject matter and related
ones offline. The results of our dialogue will eventually make their way into
cyberspace.
לכל איש יש שם
שנתן לו אלהים
ונתנו לו אביו ואמו
Everyone has a name
that God gives
and one’s father and mother give.
לכל איש יש שם
שנתנו לו קומתו ואופן חיוכו
ונתן לו האריג
Everyone has a name
that stature and the curve of one’s smile give
and the weave of one’s clothing gives.
לכל איש יש שם
שנתנו לו ההרים
ונתנו לו כתליו
Everyone has a name
that the mountains give
and the walls of one’s city give.
לכל איש יש שם
שנתנו לו המזלות
ונתנו לו שכניו
Everyone has a name
that the stars give
and one’s neighbors give.
לכל איש יש שם
שנתנו לו חטאיו
ונתנה לו כמיהתו
Everyone has a name
that one’s offenses give
and one’s longing gives.
לכל איש יש שם
שנתנו לו שונאיו
ונתנה לו אהבתו
Everyone has a name
that enemies give
and love for others gives.
לכל איש יש שם
שנתנו לו חגיו
ונתנה לו מלאכתו
Everyone has a name
birthday celebrations give
and one’s work gives.
לכל איש יש שם
שנתנו לו תקופות השנה
ונתן לו עיורונו
Everyone has a name
that the seasons of the year give
and our blindness gives.
לכל איש יש שם
שנתן לו הים
ונתן לו
מותו.
Everyone has a name
that the sea gives
and
one’s death gives.
Glossary
חיוכו. From חִיּוּךְ, ‘smile.’
המזלות.
From מַזָּל, ‘zodiac sign, fate, good luck’ as in mazal
tov.
כמיהתו.
From כְּמִיהָה, ‘longing, yearning.’
Hebrew poetry and citations from the Bible must always be מנוקד
ראובן זידנר
Posted by: Ruben Siedner | January 10, 2018 at 01:54 PM