Writing in Tongues: Translating Yiddish in the Twentieth Century

Chapter 1. Translation Theory and Practice: The Yiddish Difference

3 chapter 1 Translation Theory and Practice The Yiddish Difference [W]hat objection can be made if a translator says to his reader: Here I bring you the book as the man would have written it had he written in German; and the reader responds: I am just as obliged to you as if you had brought me the picture of a man the way he would look if his mother had conceived him by a different father? —Friedrich Schleiermacher Ver vet blaybn, vos vet blaybn? Blaybn vet a vint, ‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ ?‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫װָאס‬ ?‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫װער‬ ,‫װינט‬ ‫ַא‬ ‫װעט‬ Blaybn vet di blindkayt funem blindn vos farshvindt. ‫װָאס‬ ‫בלינדן‬ ‫ֿפונעם‬ ‫בלינדקײט‬ ‫די‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ .‫ֿפַארשװינדט‬ Blaybn vet a simen funem yam: a shnirl shoym, ‫שנירל‬ ‫ַא‬ ‫ים׃‬ ‫ֿפונעם‬ ‫סימן‬ ‫ַא‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ ,‫שױם‬ Blaybn vet a volkndl fartshepet af a boym. ‫ַא‬ ‫אױף‬ ‫ֿפַארטשעּפעט‬ ‫װָאלקנדל‬ ‫ַא‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ .‫בױם‬ Ver vet blaybn, vos vet blaybn? Blaybn vet a traf ‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ ?‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫װָאס‬ ,‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫װער‬ ,‫טרַאף‬ ‫ַא‬ ‫װעט‬ Bereshisdik aroystugrozn vider zayn bashaf. ‫ן‬ ַ ‫זײ‬ ‫װידער‬ ‫ַארױסצוגרָאזן‬ ‫בראשיתדיק‬ .‫באשַאף‬ Blaybn vet a fidlroyz likoved zikh aleyn, ‫זיך‬ ‫לּכבוד‬ ‫ֿפידלרױז‬ ‫ַא‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ ,‫ַאלײן‬ 4 Chapter 1 Zibn grozn fun di grozn veln zi farshteyn. ‫זי‬ ‫װעלן‬ ‫גרָאזן‬ ‫די‬ ‫ֿפון‬ ‫גרָאזן‬ ‫זיבן‬ .‫ֿפַארשטײן‬ Mer fun ale shtern azsh fun tsofn biz aher, ‫ביז‬ ‫צפון‬ ‫ֿפון‬ ‫ַאזש‬ ‫שטערן‬ ‫ַאלע‬ ‫ֿפון‬ ‫מער‬ ,‫ַאהער‬ Blaybn vet der shtern vos er falt in same trer. ‫אין‬ ‫ֿפַאלט‬ ‫ער‬ ‫װָאס‬ ‫שטערן‬ ‫דער‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ .‫טרער‬ ‫סַאמע‬ Shtendik vet a tropn vayn oykh blaybn in zayn krug. ‫אין‬ ‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ ‫אױך‬ ‫ן‬ ַ ‫װײ‬ ‫טרָאּפן‬ ‫ַא‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫שטענדיק‬ .‫קרוג‬ ‫ן‬ ַ ‫זײ‬ Ver vet blaybn, got vet blaybn, iz dir nit genug? ‫ניט‬ ‫דיר‬ ‫איז‬ ,‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫גָאט‬ ?‫בן‬ ַ ‫בלײ‬ ‫װעט‬ ‫װער‬ ?‫גענוג‬ Avrom Sutzkever, Lider fun togbukh, 19741 1974 ,‫טָאגבוך‬ ‫ֿפון‬ ‫לידער‬ ,‫סוצקעװער‬ ‫ַאברהם‬ Who will last? And what? The wind will stay, Who will remain, what will remain? A wind will stay behind. And the blind man’s blindness when he’s gone away, The blindness will remain, the blind­ ness of the blind. And a thread of foam—a sign of the sea— A film of foam, perhaps, a vestige of the sea, And a bit of cloud snarled in a tree. A flimsy cloud, perhaps, entangled in a tree. Who will last? And what? A word as green Who will remain, what will remain? One syllable will stay, As Genesis, making grasses grow. To sprout the grass of Genesis as on a new First Day. And what the prideful rose might mean, A fiddle-rose, perhaps, for its own sake will stand Seven of those grasses know. And seven blades of grass perhaps will understand. Of all that northflung starry stuff, Of all the stars from way out north to here, The star descended in the tear will last. That one star will remain that fell into a tear. In its jar, a drop of wine stands fast. A drop of wine remaining in a jar, a drop of dew. Translation Theory and Practice 5 Who lasts? God abides—isn’t that enough? Who will remain, God will remain, is that enough for you? Translated by Cynthia Ozick2 Translated by Barbara and Benjamin Harshav3 As the twenty-first century proceeds, Avrom Sutzkever’s (1913–2010) ques­ tions are haunting. With each passing year, his queries read increasingly like a meditation on the fate of his poetic language, on the future of memory and of poetry, on the fate of the Jews. Who and what, indeed, will remain of Eastern European Jewish culture? What will remain of Yiddish? One inescapable response is that translations will remain. Of course, even raising the issue of Yiddish texts no longer in Yiddish is treading on danger­ ous ground. I do not want to distract our task with the familiar, and more voluble, polemics: that Yiddish as a spoken language is in drastic decline; that it is spoken now primarily in Haredi or Hasidic (ultra-Orthodox) Jewish communities; that it has acquired a strange, almost cultic and certainly heralded status in universities; that a shockingly small number of people can read and write in the once abundant language. Jews and scholars around the world have gotten very good at arguing about all of these issues. But there can be no argument about the existence and necessity of translation. For most of the late twentieth century, and certainly in our own day, Yiddish texts have unquestionably been more familiar to more people in English translation than in their original. That fact is not likely to change anytime soon, and it makes translation an increasingly urgent project. It also raises a number of questions we must now add to Sutzkever’s pressing ones. What considerations guide translators in their choice of what to translate and how? To what extent are the old argu­ ments about fidelity to the original or focus on the recipient still at work in the choices that translators make? Although most of Yiddish literature has never been translated, a large number of works have been translated many times...