Quotes About Translation

Whenever I write my music, it's always been in English first and then I take it into Korean.

What about your servant? Did he see anything?" [...]As soon as the crisis was over, Billy had fled into his necklace and I hadn't seen him since. I gave him little poke, just for the hell of it, and got back the metaphysical version of the finger. "Billy doesn't know anything," I translated. "Are you certain?" Tell him to suck my balls! "Pretty certain.

Poireaux vinaigrette aux grains de caviar." I did a quick translation. "Leeks and fish eggs in vinegar?" He grinned. "It sounds better in French." Yeah, but did it taste better?

V'lane: Are you busy tomorrow MacKayla ? Barrons: She's working on old texts with me. V'lane: Ah. Old texts. A banner day at the bookstore. Barrons: We're translating Kama Sutra...with interactive aids.

Pass the raspberry jam, please." "It's called jelly in the States." Zander handed over the tiny jar of compote.

Francis because it has not had the key to him: he is Juan Perón in ecclesiastical translation.

One can translate an editorial but not a poem. For one can go across the border naked but not without one's skin; for, unlike clothes, one cannot get a new skin.

Uh, puedo hablar con Andrew Nelson, por favor?" I asked, feeling like an idiot. "Quien?" "El americano," I explained. "Muy grande americano." In trying to describe my father, I sounded like I was ordering coffee. But it worked.

with signs in Russian.

Seely shows how the modern scientific bias has guided the translators to render the word for "firmament" (raqia) as "expanse." Raqia in the Bible consistently means a solid material such as a metal that is hammered out by a craftsman (Ex. 39:3; Isa. 40:19). And when raqia is used elsewhere in the Bible for the heavens, it clearly refers to a solid material, sometimes even metal!

Suddenly, a light from heaven burned down upon the two angels and they were gone, translated up to heaven. • • • • • All along the Valley of Siddim, the long, gigantic rift began to spasm. Large fractures opened in the crust. Massive amounts of heat and gas escaped into the air. The land rolled like a tsunami wave of earth. Up above, lightning joined the thunder in the black heap of cumulus storm clouds.

Language embodies a worldview that does not often translate through the words.

I had glimpsed the subterfuge. Rather than make a frontal attack on religion in this devout nation, the new regime was playing the game of Frustration. It was sponsoring a new translation of the Bible—a translation that never quite got published. It was sponsoring a new dictionary of the Bible—only there were no Bibles to go with the dictionary. The

One word the translators were able to figure out was that "Mum" meant "adult or caregiver," just as similar sounds mean mother in almost every known human language, since the "mm" sound is the first one babies learn to make while suckling.

Recently SCHISMATRIX became my first novel to come out in Finland. Perhaps there's a quality in a good translation that can't be captured with the original.

A la mierda! ¡El que quiera leer a Rimbaud que aprenda francés!

Pott's, to whom I handed the work for translation, giving him a box of sperm candles

A language has genius. Some works translate well, others are untranslatable. Molière is effective only in French. Without knowing Arabic nobody has ever understood the Koran. Pushkin remains a possession of the Russian people, though the world has acquired Tolstoy. In general, the higher the charge of peculiarly national identity and emotion, the less translatable a work is.

The Second Table of the Ten Commandments reads in Hebrew something like this: 'Don't kill; don't be vile; don't steal; don't tell lies about others; don't envy any man his wife or house or animals, or anything he has.' This sounds shockingly wrong in English. For the English genius, religion is solemn and stately; Canterbury Cathedral, not a shul. The grand slow march of Thou Shalt Nots is exactly right. Religion for the Jews is intimate and colloquial, or it is nothing.

For the more literal approach would seem to be too little English, and the more literary seems too little Greek. I have tried to find a cross between the two, a modern English Homer.

Translation is the art of listening. In one ear is the sound of the original text, and in the other is a rhythm, wordless, waiting to find its voice. Somehow, eventually, the right words rise into the rhythm and become it, as if the listening created what one wanted to hear.

the English of the nineteenth or early twentieth century is no closer to Homeric Greek than the language of today. The use of a noncolloquial or archaizing linguistic register can blind readers to the real, inevitable, and vast gap between the Greek original and any modern translation. My use of contemporary language—rather than the English of a generation or two ago—is meant to remind readers that this text can engage us in a direct way, and also that it is genuinely ancient.

My father was a schoolteacher once before he became an engineer and breac is a word, he explains, that the Irish people brought with them when they were crossing over into the English language. It means speckled, dappled, flecked, spotted, coloured. A trout is brack and so is a speckled horse. A barm brack is a loaf of bread with raisins in it and was borrowed from the Irish words bairín breac. So we are the speckled-Irish, the brack-Irish. Brack home-made Irish bread with German raisins.

Dakkan, my spear. My grandmother had a huge problem with that name, because the closest translation of it to English would be "Stabby." She claimed it wasn't a proper name for a weapon, so after the first Dakkan broke, I offered to name the new one Sharpy McStabbison, the Son of Stabby, after which she groaned and left my quarters, followed by a throng of her advisors all giving me reproachful looks.