Pablo Neruda He Dies Slowly

HE DIES SLOWLY

He dies slowly who transforms his habits into slavery, repeating every day the same trips and who never changes the ruts, who never risks dressing in a new color and never speaks to someone unfamiliar.

He dies slowly who makes the television his guru.

He dies slowly who avoids passion, who prefers black over white and points over dashes to an eddy of emotions, it is precisely those that rescue the shine of the eyes, the smiles of yawns, hearts to stumbles and feelings.

He dies slowly who doesn’t turn the tables upside down when he is unhappy in his work, who never risks the certain for the uncertain in order to go after a dream, who never lets himself at least one time in his life flee the sensible advisors.

He dies slowly who never travels, who never reads, who never listens to music, who never finds thanks in the same.

He dies slowly who destroys his self-esteem, who does not help himself.

He dies slowly who spends his days grumbling about his bad luck or the incessant rain.

He dies slowly who abandons a project before he begins it, doesn’t question an assumption that he doesn’t know or doesn’t respond when he’s asked about something he knows.

We avoid death in gradual payments, remembering always that to live demands an effort much greater than simply breathing. Only impassioned patience will achieve a splendid happiness.


-- Pablo Neruda (translated by Jerry Blanton 10/27/06)


I enjoy translating from French and Spanish and Latin--the three languages with which I am most familiar.  Translating is a slow process for me. I follow these basic steps: (1) I read through in the original language until I'm sure I have the gist of the original. (2)  I note any words or idioms I am not sure of and look them up, sometimes in more than one dictionary. (3) If I feel frustrated, I will go to an on-line translating service and let them give me a standard translation.  (4)  Once I have a basic translation that is viable, I then work to create English sentences or lines that flow and carefully choose English diction that gives the tone and flavor of the original. (5)  I work to create a sense and feeling that is similar to the original language.  (6)  If the translation is a poem--and this is very hard to do--I try to mimic the rhythm and rhyme; but I have learned that it is better to give up the prosody if the attempt damages the meaning and mood.  (7)  I set it aside and return to it later just as I do anything I write.  I always find ways and means to improve the product on the second or tenth revisit.

Sometimes, just for amusement, I take my translation and have a translation service render it back into the original language.  The result is usually humorous.

When I am reading in a language other than English, I try to get a dual-language edition.  I read in the foreign language first and then check my understanding with the English translation.

Here are two dual-language editions of Neruda's poetry. The Essential Neruda: Selected Poems (Bilingual Edition) (English and Spanish Edition) ;  Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair: Dual-Language Edition (Penguin Classics) (Spanish and English Edition)