Aistrithe ag Sonya Friel

                 Amharc…
Sléibhte folamh. Níl duine amhain anseo.
                Ach - Eist! -
Macallaí de daoine...Ciúin. I bfad ar shiúl.
               Faire.
Solas na gréine ag filleadh, ag tóraíocht trí an choill.
               Feic…
Caonach glas dorche, geal arís, ó thuas

[avatar user="sfriel" size="thumbnail" align="left"]Sonya Friel[/avatar]

[bg_collapse view="link" color="#4a4949" icon="arrow" expand_text="Nóta an Aistritheora" collapse_text="Folaigh" onclick="console.log('clicked');" ]

Tógadh mé faoin tuath in Éirinn, tír an phortaigh ghlais agus tír na macallaí teanga atá ag fáil bháis. Nuair a léigh mé saothar Wang Wei, bhí suim agam ann mar bhí na focail go hálainn, d'ainneoin na mblianta ina ndearnadh aistriúcháin agus athruithe. Déanaim iontas den dán, Páirc na bhFianna; cailleadh an dán agus tá na haistriúcháin nua bunaithe ar chóip scríofa naoi gcéad bliain i ndiaidh an bhunaidh. Thaitin an pictiúr liom mar gheall ar na tagairtí do dhúlra atá i bhfolach i measc na línte, agus bhí mé líonta le cumha. Bhí sé ag an am seo gur thuig mé go raibh gátar agam an píosa mealltach seo a dhéanamh arís i dteanga a d'aithin mé: an Ghaeilge - teanga mo bhaile.

Chun an t-aistriúchán seo a dheánamh, ar dtús léigh mé roinnt aistriúchan Béarla ar dhán Wang Wei. D’úsáid mé iad chun mo leagan féin a chumadh, agus ina dhiaidh sin d’aistrigh mé é go Gaeilge. Bhí sé deacair na focail chearta a fháíl, agus in amanna bhí orm do mo leagan Béarla a athrú sa dóigh go mbeadh sé níos fusa é a thuscint i nGaeilge.

Ba thaithí nua domh píosa litríochta mar seo a aistriú agus bhain mé a lán suilt as. Táim sásta leis an toradh, agus tá mé bródúil é a roinnt. I mo bharúil féin, is ionann an dán an tír is dúchas dom, agus oibríonn solas na gréine mar shiombal de fhilleadh na teanga caillte chun an chultúir a bhí á chur faoi chois. Is siombál dóchas é, agus is onóir domh é a thaispeáint do mo chomhthírigh.

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Translated by Sonya Friel

                  Look…

Empty mountains. Not one person here.

                 But - Listen! -

Echoes of people...Quiet. Far away.

                 Watch.

Sunlight returning, delving through the woods.

                   See…

Dark green moss, bright again, from above.

[avatar user="sfriel" size="thumbnail" align="left" ]Sonya Friel[/avatar]

[bg_collapse view="link" color="#4a4949" icon="arrow" expand_text="Translator's Note" collapse_text="Hide" onclick="console.log('clicked');" ]

I grew up in rural Ireland, a country of green bog-land and echoes of a dying language. When I read the work of Wang Wei, I was interested in the beautiful words despite centuries of translation and evolution. I was intrigued by the poem, ‘Deer Park’; the poem was lost and modern translations are based on a copy produced 900 years after the original. I was intrigued by the imagery of nature hidden among the lines, and I was immediately filled with nostalgia. It was at this moment I knew I wanted to reproduce this beguiling piece in a language familiar to me; Irish Gaelic - the language of home.

To produce this translation, I first read several English translations of Wang Wei’s poem. I used them to create my own English version, and then translated it into Irish. It was difficult to find the right words, and sometimes I had to change my English version so it could be understood better in Irish.

Translating a piece of literature into another language was a new experience for me, and one I thoroughly enjoyed. I am pleased with the product, and proud to share it. For me, Wang Wei’s poem represents the innate qualities of my country; and the sunlight symbolises the return of a lost language into a culture that was repressed. This poem is a symbol of hope, and I am honoured to present it to my people.

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