COMMENTS ON THE POEM CHOICE AND TRANSLATION:
I have to discuss these two points together, because I found the second half of the poem infuriatingly confusing, and wasn't sure how much of that was due to translation choices and how much was due to the original's opacity and mystery.
My first instinct was to eliminate this poem as a finalist because it was just too problematical; it seemed unfair to favor this one over other entries that seemed far less flawed. In fact, I actually wrote a "Dear Translator" email explaining this. (I'll be asking Alex to forward similar emails to each of the non-finalists, to let them know why I didn't chose their pieces for discussion here.)
But this piece kept creeping back into my mind over the next few days, and again and again I found myself coming back to wrestle with it. In comparison, some of the more technically solid entries started to seem a bit safe and boring and uncompelling. So I decided that the arresting images of this piece would make for better discussion, even though I wish that the translator had provided us with more guidance in the second half.
I do very much admire this translator's phrasing in a lot of places. For example, "ponderous, ponderous, forever clutching their prey"--that's just delicious.
Ordinarily I would also be quite enthusiastic about swapping the rather pedestrian "is full" for the vividly active verb "teems." However, the more I look at this, the more I suspect that the original is using all those fricatives (f's and v's) and liquids (r's and l's) to fill the first few lines with the sound of tiny wingbeats. If "is full" is replaced with "teems", I think it would be good to offset that sonic sacrifice somehow.
I am also curious about the alliterative repetition and variation of
av fjärilar, av fladdervingar in L1 (continued in the
fladdrar of L2 and the
fladdrar of L3). I'm not sure why the translator has chosen not to include
av fladdervingar in either the prose crib or the translation. All these iterations of
fladder strike me as a sonic foil to the stodgier, heavier
flyttar sig tungt tungt in connection with the possessive sea eagles later. There also seems to be a foil between
fladdervingar in the first part and
vingbreda in the second.
I would prefer the simpler "hot" to "ardent" in L5, mainly because "ardent" seems an overly Poetickal flourish. I'd also suggest reconsidering "mightily" in L9; since that part of the poem is so busy with images already, I think the language should be kept more simple and straightforward.
I wonder if the notion of "trapped" could be moved from L7 to L6:
"Meanwhile, trapped beneath the skin and blood, in the bone's marrow,"
Soaring and flight connote freedom to me; in contrast, the second half of this poem seems to be about repression of instincts and desires. The literal prose crib says "move heavily, heavily," and the birds are definitely grasping something. So I wonder if the "spread-winged" of the crib might refer not to flight, but to the way that birds of prey on the ground (or on perches) hide whatever they are eating from other predators, by cloaking it with open wings. Examples:
http://php.democratandchronicle.com/...awkonhairy.jpg
http://previews.agefotostock.com/pre...110714p308.jpg
http://animals.nationalgeographic.co...tellers-eagle/
Just a guess. I could be wrong. But I found the idea of the predatory birds lumbering along the ground, with the narrator's deepest desires securely in their fists, an interesting contrast with the superficial and short-lived fluttering of the butterflies--perhaps representing meaningless, casual relationships?--in the beginning of the poem.
To me, "resonate" implies echoes (although I know that it need not), so I was picturing the "you" of the poem in an enclosed space, rather than a cry of joy out in the freedom of the sun.
I think a "But" might be helpful at the beginning of the "The cave is sealed! The cave is sealed!" line, even though that will interfere with the parallelism a bit. That line does seem to be the answer to the two preceding comments/questions, which, due to the mention of cries and eyes, I think the narrator addresses to the sea eagles themselves. Could "tumble" be taken in the sense of "frolic"? That would be more in keeping with the vibe of if-only-we-could-be-free I'm perceiving there; otherwise, tumbling in the storm sounds like a negative experience, instead of a victorious one.
"Pale" or "pallid" might be better than "bleak" to describe the white cellar-shoots, since to me those two words imply weakness and stuntedness, while "bleak" just has to do with dreariness and misery in general.
And now, having picked the piece to death, I still find that I'm captivated by it. The perfectionistic side of me doesn't want to like this translation, but I do anyway. So here it is. I hope others will be intrigued by it, too.
By the way, while researching the poet, I learned that she left her marriage to pursue a relationship with a woman she eventually referred to as her wife, and that one of Boye's novels seems to parallel the author's own struggle to resolve her sexual identity with her faith tradition. This information makes me curious about the date of this poem in relation to other events in her life.