Tomorrow at dawn

[dhampyresa]

On today's episode of our very irregularly scheduled "dhampyresa translates French poetry" show, the poem in question is one of Victor Hugo's most famous, "Demain, dès l'aube".



Demain, dès l'aube...

Demain, dès l'aube, à l'heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m'attends.
J'irai par la forêt, j'irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.

Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.

Je ne regarderai ni l'or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et quand j'arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.


Tomorrow, at dawn...

Tomorrow, at dawn, at the time when whiten the fields,
I will leave. You are waiting for me, I know, you see,
I will go through the forests, I will go through the hills.
I cannot stay away from you any longer, so help me.

I will walk with eyes fixed on my thoughts, lost,
I will hear no sound, I will see no sight,
Alone, unknown, back bent and hands crossed,
Sad, and the day for me will be like the night.

I will see neither the gold of the ebbing sun
Nor the sails descending from afar on Harfleur
And when I arrive, I will put on your tomb
A wreath of green holly and heather in flower.


OBVIOUSLY I AM NO HUGO but none of the (surprisingly very few) translations I could find online kept the rhyming, so I gave it my best go.

This is a very famous poem by Hugo, not least because I, like all the French people I know, have had to learn it by heart in school. (Also, no one told us what it was about before we read it the first time, so spoiler-cut for y'all it is!)

It was written October 4 1847, but Hugo changed the date to September 3 as that is the eve of the anniversary of the death of his daughter, Léopoldine.

Comments

[morbane]

Thank you for that!

Here's a free translation of my own - well, more a translation of your own, since I can only guess at the significance of the sails at Harfleur. Are the 'crossed hands' meant to be those of someone praying?

And many lines I altered mostly for fun rather than for improvement.


Tomorrow, at dawn, when the fields grow light,
I will go. I know, you see, that you await me.
I will go through the forest and over the height.
No more can I abide it, so far from you to be.

I will march with my gaze intent on a thought
Seeing nothing beyond me, comprehending no sound
Alone, unknown, my back bowed, and hands caught,
Joyless; as if not day but night had dawned.

I will not look to see the gold of sunset's fall
Nor the far-travelled sails descend on Harfleur
When I arrive, at your grave I'll let fall
A wreath of holly and of flowering heather.

[isis]

Ooh, nice. To improve scansion and flow, I'd change the second line to:

I will go. For I know that you're waiting for me

I also think the "my back bowed" should lose the "my" as that interrupts the flow, but I like the imagery! I also really like the daring false rhyme in this verse. I might:

Sad; as though night fell, and not the day dawned.

...I guess I should write my own, though argh, I don't have time right now. But this is a fun exercise a la Le Ton Beau de Marot (one of my favorite books)!

[morbane]

Hee. It is fun, isn't it? Thank you for the suggestions. Your I will go version is much more nicely anapaestic.

I kept wanting to have the meter all tidy, but the original defies that sort of marching rhythm when I try to read it out, so I think it makes more sense to have longer syllables in more places than a strict pattern would call for. (If possible, that is. "No more can I abide it, so far from you to be." is an ugly sing-song line but I had so much trouble getting it to rhyme.)

[isis]

My maudlin heart really likes that line (maybe without the 'it')! Better than anything I could think of, other than repeating 'me' which is a very clunky solution.

If you haven't read Le Ton Beau, by the way (I think I've discussed it with dhampyresa and been delighted that someone else knows it! But I don't remember if I've talked about it with you!) it's essentially this same exercise, multiple translations and retranslations of a (medieval) French poem.

(obviously I have FEELINGS about poetry translation.)

[yhlee]

You might enjoy this article on translating Kim So-Wol's "Azaleas," a famous contemporary Korean poem--I can attest that each one of the translations that Brother Anthony runs through is technically correct. It's kind of amazing.

[isis]

I have only now been able to get to this, as I've been first traveling, then miserably sick, but wow, thank you so much - this is exactly up my alley, and I found it fascinating.

(Also, the poet apparently died at 33. How sad.)

[yhlee]

I'm glad you enjoyed the link!

(Yeah, poor guy. Brilliant poet, though.)

My mother says of this particular poem ("Azaleas") that Kim managed to capture the sensitivity of a woman's feelings and that it was just uncanny from a Korean male. :p

[yhlee]

Also--sorry to hear you're sick, feel better soon!

[dhampyresa]

Get better soon!

[dhampyresa]

You're welcome.

The sails are significant because that's how the daughter died. I always thought he had his hands griping one another behind his back as he walked, personally.

Wow, this is much better than mine! Thank you.

[morbane]

Oh, I see! *reads further* What a sudden, shocking death.

Well, it's different. Much less faithful to the original.