%%%% I typed this morning, no cooking no walk, chapter 25
closed and done, now for the version three of the translation. Long nights of
trying to stay awake almost asleep at the keyboard, the TV droning on slumber antidote, of half an hour here, an
hour there, early mornings, keying in over oats, over tea, coffee, ignoring the
sweat on your back and the inquisitive crow who’s missed his tidbit… thanks to
P who’d ask every other day. “You finished?” “Not yet.” Now for the battle with
the *shabdakosh*, the relentless digging for shades of meaning, not this, this,
maybe this… Hell I’ll self publish if push comes to shove but I’m seeing this
one through, in true Scarlet fashion, “As God is my witness….”
2 comments:
Oh Dear ... it never ends ... the good thing is the learning, thinking and knowing oneself ... the bad thing is the result, the too intense or exalted openess, intensity for words - others may not know this, use them, one gets vulnerable. Others may not understand (even not recognize) the shades, variations (umbra is the word I think about here) ... living with words is dangerous, "believe me I am a historian" (laugh with me, we are all liars), a small change in the wording may make a difference of live and death, translating is the worst job ever, especially when you live in both spheres - it's much easier when you have no idea about the variations of the original text (I am reading German translations of a Slawic language I have no idea about, all I have to care for is the German text, and there I am in command, thank GOd it is only scientific language!) - no Austere, its hard work, ich beneide Dich nicht darum ... but : Do go on please. Where ever it leads you to.
I salute this comment, mister mago the magician... I am wide eyed....
Post a Comment