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    AC Benus
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Translation Trashbin - 14. Il Pleure dans Mon Coeur

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Three Translations of:

Il Pleure dans Mon Coeur[1]

By Paul Verlaine

 

 

 

Il Pleure dans Mon Coeur

 

Il pleut doucement sur la ville.

Arthur Rimbaud

 

Il pleure dans mon cœur

Comme il pleut sur la ville;

Quelle est cette langueur

Qui pénètre mon cœur?

 

O bruit doux de la pluie,

Par terre et sur les toits!

Pour un cœur qui s'ennuie,

O le chant de la pluie!

 

Il pleure sans raison

Dans ce cœur qui s'écœure.

Quoi! nulle trahison?...

Ce deuil est sans raison.

 

C'est bien la pire peine,

De ne savoir pourquoi

Sans amour et sans haine

Mon cœur a tant de peine!

 

 

 

Variation One:

He Rains in My Heart[2]

 

He rains sweetly over the town.

Arthur Rimbaud

 

He rains in my heart

how it rains on the town;

what is this languor

that penetrates my heart?

 

Oh, soft sound of the rain

for earth and on the roofs;

for a heart’s that pained –

Oh, the song of the rain.

 

He rains without reason

in this heart that’s heartbroken.

What! None betrayed?

This sorrow’s without reason.

 

His beauty is the physical pain

which to realize is why,

without love or without hate,

my heart is all but pain.

 

 

 

Variation Two:

He Squalls in My Heart

 

He softly pours all over the town.

Arthur Rimbaud

 

He squalls in my heart

Like it pours on the town;

How does this languor start

Which penetrates my heart?

 

O clatter of the rain

On parched ground and roof tiles!

For a listless heart in wane,

O this chanting of the rain!

 

He storms for no reason

In this heart that is scorning.

What! No treason?

This mourning's without reason.

 

That thought is the most painful,

not to even have a 'why',

Not for love, not for the hateful,

Does my heart feel so painful.

 

 

 

Variation Three:

These Two are Alike

 

He rains softly all around the city.

Arthur Rimbaud

 

These two are alike – in my heart he cries –

like rain washing the city amongst sighs;

yet they both instill the purely listless

in a heart against itself prone to lies.

 

Oh, soft sound of the rain most aimless,

your fall on the ground and roof drums pointless

to the heartbeats born seemingly in treason

when songs of tearful rain seem meaningless.

 

In me, cacophony has no season,

no raison d’être for my heart’s lesion,

and the what and wherefores at straws might clutch

before I understand my own reason.

 

It’s that thought which lays the most damning touch,

For with him, I never have cause as such,

As his love and hate like rain never dies,

Beating through my ears that my heart hurts so much.

 

 

 


[1] Inspired by and written about the love he felt for his partner, Arthur Rimbaud.

[2] Written July 10th, 1994

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Copyright © 2018 AC Benus; All Rights Reserved.
  • Love 7
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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On 7/14/2018 at 10:07 AM, Mikiesboy said:

i'm partial to variation 1 and 3.   In one the word rain to me, works better than squall.  Squall seems such and intense harsh word.   Three is just different altogether, warmer and more enveloping.  I do not know how you do these translations, AC, but they are brilliant!  Thank you!

Verlaine's poetics on "pleure" and "pleut" in lines one and two are the challenge to render in another language. Most translations of this poem treat the first word as if it means rains and uses that word; but it means wailing; crying; sobbing -- all very vehement verbs for producing the tears which he compares to raindrops in the second line. So, "pleure" equals squalls as a storm-like event of emotions, and "pleut" means rain. That's the best equivocation I could come up with in English. 

Yes, this is all a challenge. There is another one too that others may mark right away. The usual translation of this poem starts with "It" not "He," but my reading is possible too. By making it personable, it brings the rest of the piece into focus for what it is, a love poem. Resisting the "He" may simply be more than a hundred years' worth of not wanting to see this love in the first place, but I could be wrong, as this poem in French is arguably the one known the best. Maybe it's like our Frost's Snowing Evening poem; it's that famous.   

Thanks for reading and commenting, Tim :)  

 

 

Edited by AC Benus
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On 7/15/2018 at 6:20 AM, BDANR said:

Wow! I'm thankful you are able to translate this poem. It's written so well, I never would've had the chance to enjoy it had it not been English (maybe I should try to understand French a bit more haha). This was nice to read, thank you :).

You are most welcome, Bryant. I think I have a few sketches on the only joint poem Verlaine and Rimbaud did together...it's called Sonnet to the A**hole. LOL, and yes, it's about the piece of anatomy. Seems it was a bit of a joke, as another poet had recently had success with a dreck-ridden (dare I say, Victorian) collection of Sonnets to various body parts of the beloved: lips, face, hands, arms, etc. Our bad boys of poetry said "Hey now, wait a minute! There's one part you forgot to ovate." Thus, their poem was born. 

I could finish it, but to be honest, one part of the French is beyond me. Chanaan féminin means something like "feminine land of Canaan" -- a milk and honey allusion -- but why the adjective "feminine" is attached to it is over my pay-grade (other than the country being perhaps masculine in the language was modified, but even then, the 'why' of doing it escapes me). 

Perhaps some kind native French-speaker could share their opinions of Chanaan féminin with me :yes:   

Thanks for reading and leaving comments. I really appreciate it.

 

Edited by AC Benus
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4 hours ago, BHopper2 said:

I am not good at reviewing poetry. However, that said, these are amazing. To think they all come from the same poem, just translated a different way, is amazing.

Thanks for reading, A. I didn't set out to do three, it's just my old was good for capturing the content of the poem, but I tried again to see if I could mimic the rhyme scheme as well. Ultimately, this left me a bit flat, so I threw caution to the wind and tried for a third version more focused on capturing the feel of the poem first and foremost. 

 

Thanks again for reading. I really appreciate it. 

  • Like 1
1 hour ago, Zenobia said:

I will definitely print this out to be able to read it more properly.

Thank you for sharing all of your versions - it's quite rare to find different translations by the same person so easily.

 

A print-out is a great compliment :) And like I said above, I did not set out to do three versions of this poem, but since I did, I have no problems posting them all. Thanks again. 

 

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