Translation is an interestingly different way to be involved

In the ancient world, where the gods themselves spoke in tongues that only the chosen few could understand, there was a deep belief in the sacredness of language. It was said that to truly understand the world, one must understand its language, for words were not mere symbols; they were the very vessels of meaning, of truth, and of creation. Marilyn Hacker speaks to this deep connection when she declares, “Translation is an interestingly different way to be involved both with poetry and with the language that I've found myself living in much of the time. I think the two feed each other.” Here, Hacker unveils the profound relationship between language and poetry, and the unique place translation occupies in the delicate dance of both.

Translation, as Hacker suggests, is not simply about converting words from one language to another. It is a bridge—a means of crossing the river of meaning from one culture, one time, one way of thinking to another. In ancient times, the great scribes of Egypt and Mesopotamia would translate the sacred texts of their gods into the language of the people, so that the divine wisdom could be shared and understood by all. Translation was the key to unlocking mysteries, to passing the wisdom of the ancients down through the ages. It was an act of profound reverence and responsibility—for to translate was to ensure that the soul of the message, the spirit of the words, was preserved across time and space.

Consider the great translator of the ancient Greek philosopher Plato, who brought his dialogues into the Latin tongue. In this act of translation, not only were words exchanged, but the very essence of Plato's ideas was transferred from one language to another, allowing these timeless thoughts to echo through centuries. The translator, like a poet, does not simply replicate; they reimagine the meaning, crafting a new version that is alive in its own right. This interplay of language and meaning, of the original and its new form, is where poetry and translation intersect. The two are not separate but interdependent, each feeding the other.

For Hacker, translation is not merely an intellectual task but a creative endeavor that connects her deeply to both the poetry she translates and the language in which she writes. She is not only a conduit between languages but an active participant in a process where the boundaries between the original and the new are blurred, where the language of the poet and the language of the translator intermingle to create something greater than either. This is the power of translation: it is a means of dialogue, a conversation between languages, between cultures, between minds and hearts. In the act of translating, Hacker finds herself not merely as an outsider or observer but as a participant in the shared humanity that all great poetry strives to uncover.

This connection between translation and poetry is as old as the sacred texts themselves. The ancient Hebrews, for example, believed that the Torah could be understood in many languages, and that each translation offered a deeper insight into its mysteries. But translation, they knew, was not a simple exchange of words; it was an act of interpretation, where the translator was tasked with not just finding the right word but understanding the very essence of the text. Hacker’s words echo this ancient wisdom: translation is a two-way street, where both the language being translated and the language into which it is rendered are transformed by the process.

The lesson, then, is clear: translation is not a mere technical task, but a creative act that involves deep engagement with both the original work and the language that serves as its new home. Whether you are a poet or a translator, the act of bringing words across cultural and linguistic boundaries is an opportunity to transform not only the text but also yourself. The two forms—poetry and translation—are not separate endeavors but are bound together, each feeding into the other. Poetry and language grow and evolve through this process, expanding the horizons of what is possible with words and meaning.

In your own life, embrace the idea that language is not fixed, but fluid, and that the act of translation—whether it’s between languages, cultures, or ideas—can be a source of renewal and discovery. Be a translator in your own way: translate your experiences into words, your dreams into actions, and the truths you discover into shared understandings. Recognize that poetry is not confined to a single language but is a universal language that speaks to the heart and soul, regardless of the form it takes. Just as Hacker finds her poetry in translation, so too can you find your own path by embracing the creative potential in every exchange of words and ideas. Translate your world and make it your own, for in doing so, you not only honor the work of those who have come before you but contribute to the ongoing conversation of humanity.