I am writing a song. I want it to be partly in French because I like chansons, French folk songs. I adore Piaf and Brel. I dig Villon.
The song plays on the word "ball," generally, "boule" but sometimes "balle." Ball of this, ball of that: snowball, fastball, curveball, ball of something else. Its title (so far) is "Si c'est l'amour . . ." if this is love . . . what is it but a ball of tears, ball of laughter, ball of cries?
Suffice it to say, I'm feeling French today. Which leads me to my topic: using other tongues in your poems.
Which leads me to our next project: write a poem that incorporates at least one phrase from at least one language other than English. Colloquial southern, mid-Atlantic, New England, mountain or other regional Americanisms DO NOT count. Ethnic and racial dialects DO NOT count. Personal languages, made-up-isms, DO NOT count. The phrase does not have to be something that's "untranslatable," like an idiom, though if you have one in mind, go ahead. Nor should it be a "naturalized" term in English, like claire de lune, or doppelgänger. It should be integrated into the poem, not used merely as an epithet. Your reader should be able to translate the phrase or term into standard English with some degree of accuracy (excepting the idiomatic expression, perhaps).
Why this project? Read on . . .
Some time ago, we attempted translation (see "Translation 9.12.18") partly as an exercise in understanding how we write in our native language, the many decisions we make when selecting words, placing them in a line, and so on. But what I'm addressing here is multi-lingual-ism on a spot basis, as in integrating a foreign idiom, witticism, phrase, meaningfully in the middle of a thought expressed otherwise in your own style and language.
The English are addicted to this. Maybe it's their (formerly) classical, public school educations. Harry Potter and all that Latin & Greek. Auden certainly was fond of dropping a French or German expression into a line of poetry, not to mention his weakness for Latin. American poets of a certain artistic class like using foreign words, too. Gary Snyder often drops Japanese and Chinese phrases, sometimes even ideograms (a la Ezra Pound) into his poems.
Why do we do this? Speaking from experience, I can say that I'm motivated in more ways than one. Just to show off is one motivation, I'll admit. Another, and related motive, is to be cute or clever, delivering that je ne sais quoi insight, incorrectly, at just the right time. Indulging the occasional "untranslatable" expression from French or German or Portuguese or Latin (for me, a veteran bourgeois American, that other tongue must always belong to a Romance language) is an act of self-regard, no?
But there is another motivating factor for me, and especially when I borrow from the Romance languages: the music that can be produced in a poem.
I prefer listening to Italian and German opera because I don't understand what's being said-sung. I also love listening to Brazilian bossanova and samba and Portuguese fado for the same reason. When I listen to these musics, I hear voices as musical instruments; I hear the music of the languages the songs are sung in. I hear mellifluousness, stress, pause and staccato. I hear pitch and trill, crescendo and resolution, tempo and cadence. I take meaning from out of the physical utterances, not the abstractions of reference. Of course, I "hear" these elements as well in English, but that hearing is always accompanied by (adulterated by?) "plot" or "development" of the story line, that is, more dramaturgical aspects. For me, emotion is communicated more intimately and immediately through sound, music, than through plot. (Visual imagery is another matter--emotion communicated through other senses.)
Inserting a foreign language word or phrase into a poem has the same effect. It is as much an aural-musical addition as a plot-driving device. I may wish to understand what the word or phrase "means" in my native language, denotatively, but first I get to experience what it "means" musically in the context of the line or sentence or stanza in which it appears. (Note: it had better "make sense" logically within the poem eventually; otherwise, it's just a toss-off, a gesture.)
And that is the challenge of this project, to insert a foreign phrase or word that excites some music but also adheres to the story you are telling, the meaning you are making.
So as they say, mes amis, vaya con dios.
The song plays on the word "ball," generally, "boule" but sometimes "balle." Ball of this, ball of that: snowball, fastball, curveball, ball of something else. Its title (so far) is "Si c'est l'amour . . ." if this is love . . . what is it but a ball of tears, ball of laughter, ball of cries?
Suffice it to say, I'm feeling French today. Which leads me to my topic: using other tongues in your poems.
Which leads me to our next project: write a poem that incorporates at least one phrase from at least one language other than English. Colloquial southern, mid-Atlantic, New England, mountain or other regional Americanisms DO NOT count. Ethnic and racial dialects DO NOT count. Personal languages, made-up-isms, DO NOT count. The phrase does not have to be something that's "untranslatable," like an idiom, though if you have one in mind, go ahead. Nor should it be a "naturalized" term in English, like claire de lune, or doppelgänger. It should be integrated into the poem, not used merely as an epithet. Your reader should be able to translate the phrase or term into standard English with some degree of accuracy (excepting the idiomatic expression, perhaps).
Why this project? Read on . . .
Some time ago, we attempted translation (see "Translation 9.12.18") partly as an exercise in understanding how we write in our native language, the many decisions we make when selecting words, placing them in a line, and so on. But what I'm addressing here is multi-lingual-ism on a spot basis, as in integrating a foreign idiom, witticism, phrase, meaningfully in the middle of a thought expressed otherwise in your own style and language.
The English are addicted to this. Maybe it's their (formerly) classical, public school educations. Harry Potter and all that Latin & Greek. Auden certainly was fond of dropping a French or German expression into a line of poetry, not to mention his weakness for Latin. American poets of a certain artistic class like using foreign words, too. Gary Snyder often drops Japanese and Chinese phrases, sometimes even ideograms (a la Ezra Pound) into his poems.
Why do we do this? Speaking from experience, I can say that I'm motivated in more ways than one. Just to show off is one motivation, I'll admit. Another, and related motive, is to be cute or clever, delivering that je ne sais quoi insight, incorrectly, at just the right time. Indulging the occasional "untranslatable" expression from French or German or Portuguese or Latin (for me, a veteran bourgeois American, that other tongue must always belong to a Romance language) is an act of self-regard, no?
But there is another motivating factor for me, and especially when I borrow from the Romance languages: the music that can be produced in a poem.
I prefer listening to Italian and German opera because I don't understand what's being said-sung. I also love listening to Brazilian bossanova and samba and Portuguese fado for the same reason. When I listen to these musics, I hear voices as musical instruments; I hear the music of the languages the songs are sung in. I hear mellifluousness, stress, pause and staccato. I hear pitch and trill, crescendo and resolution, tempo and cadence. I take meaning from out of the physical utterances, not the abstractions of reference. Of course, I "hear" these elements as well in English, but that hearing is always accompanied by (adulterated by?) "plot" or "development" of the story line, that is, more dramaturgical aspects. For me, emotion is communicated more intimately and immediately through sound, music, than through plot. (Visual imagery is another matter--emotion communicated through other senses.)
Inserting a foreign language word or phrase into a poem has the same effect. It is as much an aural-musical addition as a plot-driving device. I may wish to understand what the word or phrase "means" in my native language, denotatively, but first I get to experience what it "means" musically in the context of the line or sentence or stanza in which it appears. (Note: it had better "make sense" logically within the poem eventually; otherwise, it's just a toss-off, a gesture.)
And that is the challenge of this project, to insert a foreign phrase or word that excites some music but also adheres to the story you are telling, the meaning you are making.
So as they say, mes amis, vaya con dios.
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