[Jennifer Reeser]

I love my innate bent for gloom

I love my innate bent for gloom
the hours wherein I immerse my mind,
and, as in ancient letters, find
my daily life already gone
and, like a myth large and undone.

From them I know my capacity
for a second broad and timeless round.

And now and then I am like the tree
that over a grave will rustle its crown
and fulfill for the dead youth in the ground
(round whom its tender roots are thrust)
the dream he in song and sadness lost.


Literal translation

I love my (being’s ) nature’s dark moments (hours)
wherein my mind immerses itself,
In them I have, like in old letters,
found my daily life already lived
and like a legend wide and vanquished

From them comes knowledge to me that I have room
for a second timelessly broad life.

And often I am like the tree
which, ripe and rustling, over a grave
Fulfills the dream, which the departed youth
(Round whom it pushes its warm roots)
lost in sadness and song..

Ich liebe meines Wesens Dunkelstunden

Ich liebe meines Wesens Dunkelstunden,
in welchen meine Sinne sich vertiefen;
in ihnen hab ich, wie in alten Briefen,
mein täglich Leben schon gelebt gefunden
und wie Legende weit und überwunden.

Aus ihnen kommt mir Wissen, daß ich Raum
zu einem zweiten zeitlos breiten Leben habe.

Und manchmal bin ich wie der Baum,
der, reif und rauschend, über einem Grabe
den Traum erfüllt, den der vergangne Knabe
(um den sich seine warmen Wurzeln drängen)
verlor in Traurigkeiten und Gesängen.

[Jennifer Reeser]

Not precisely the author's voice, though certainly the author's spirit.

[R. Nemo Hill]

the dream he in song and sadness lost.

Why the torturous construction, why not simply "his dream in song and sadness lost?". That stuffed meter seems thus unnecessary in too many other places as well. In the crib the word often is used...

And often I am like the tree

...while in the translation the use of now and then forces anapestic clutter into an otherwise solemn and straightforward iambic line...

And now and then I am like the tree

Likewise the translation of the title/first line seems ornate for no good reason and loses the direct simplicity of the original.

Nemo

[Roger Slater]

The crib is wrong. Manchmal means sometimes, not often.

[R. Nemo Hill]

But that would work as well...

And sometimes I am like a tree

...rather than now and again which takes up two beats, adds an anapest, and forces another on I am...

And now and again I am like a tree

Nemo

[Roger Slater]

That mistake in the crib prompted me to hit the dictionary and come up with a crib of my own, for what it's worth. It's not "better," but a second crib might be helpful for some so I'll share it here:


I love the dark hours of my being
in which my mind buries itself;
in them I have found, as in old letters,
my daily life already lived
like a distant and outgrown legend.

From them I know that I have room
for a second full and timeless life.

And sometimes I am like
a lush and rustling tree over a grave
that fulfills the dream that a dead boy
(against whom it presses its warm roots)
forfeited in sorrow and in song.

[Roger Slater]

I don't know where the first line of the translation comes from in the original poem. There's nothing about an "innate bent for gloom" suggested anywhere in the poem that I can see.

I read the translation before I read the original, and I didn't actually understand the first stanza's meaning until I consulted the original. I think what threw me off was "ancient," since Rilke appears to be referring to old letters of his own (that he wrote or received) that reflect his life, not to "ancient" letters (which to me suggest letters written before he was even born). Back in the days when people wrote and received lots of letters in which they discussed their lives, one might review letters from years ago and read about things that one no longer remembes, or forgot about, and Rilke is saying that during his dark hours he views his life like the one in old letters, as something far away, done, or outgrown.

The second strophe is a bit too opaque in refusing the repeat the word "life" and saying "round" instead. When I had read only the translation I didn't even understand what was meant entirely.

The final strophe for me is marred by awkward word order. One of the main challenges of translating German is that German word order is often quite unlike English word order, but in this strophe it seems as if not enough effort was made to translate the word order into something more natural in English.

In terms of the translation's general approach, I'm wondering if it was a good choice to go with tetrameter when the German comes across (at least for me, though I haven't studied German prosody or meter) as distinctly pentameter. I think pent would definitely give some much-needed room to work, plus it would dupicate a sense I get from the German that the poem, though not 14 lines, very much feels like a sonnet. The translation's tet doesn't really feature a strong beat, in my opinion, and the meter and rhymes (many of which are imperfect) comes off a bit muddy, whereas the German's pent seems quite distinct (by and large), with rhymes that chime and cry out proudly. My own preference for the translation would be to preserve that aspect, if possible, and make a much more musical and lilting version.

[Adam Elgar]

The last five lines are well done – they work as poetry and are an accurate reflection of Rilke’s meaning.

The rest of the translation has problems, I think.
As Roger says “my innate bent for gloom” has no equivalent in the original. And “immerse”, “ancient” and “undone” are all quite some way from anything Rilke says.

And personally I think a legend is a different thing from a myth. Rilke was keen on myth, but I think is what’s wanted here.

I don’t think I’d have been able to understand the middle pair of lines without the original to compare alongside them. “Raum” is a tremendously important concept in Rilke, and “capacity” doesn’t do it justice. He’s thinking of a creative void, a nothing out of which emerges everything. That needs to be conveyed somehow.

[Lance Levens]

Everyone's commented on the problems, although no one has mentioned the rhymes. I'd prefer a full on "klangende" rhyme in the spirit of the author. Hats off to the translator. A tough one.

[Marion Shore]

As others have mentioned, the awkwardness of the inversions, the inaccuracy and weakness of some of the translations, ("innate bent for gloom", "round", (which makes me think of a drink, or game, not life), "undone" for vanquished, etc.) do not do justice to the original. Indeed, the opening line seems almost humorous to me. I think a lot of the awkwardness and inaccuracy comes from being rhyme-driven -- a glaring example is, "rustle its crown".

I agree with Bob that the translation doesn't capture the music and lyricism of Rilke's poetry; indeed Bob's crib sounds far more poetic to me than does this translation. The last two lines are the best, as they do capture more of the flow and simplicity of the original. If the translator could start with those, and try to sustain that through the rest of the poem, it might be a keeper.