[“leave the mistakes in said the conductor to the score”
…………-how I remember Tess Gallagher’s instructions]
………………………………………..“Leave the mistakes in,” Ives told
……………………………..his conductor, handing him his new score.
……………………………..So it feels good, these sudden lips jabbing the chin
……………………………..and forehead.”
………………………………………..-Tess Gallagher
………………………………………..“Devotion: That It Flow; That There Be Concentration”
………………………………………..“these translations, against all precautions,
…………………………………………are smuggled back to you by a woman
…………………………………………looking much like yourself”
…………………………………………../………-Tess Gallagher
…………………………………………………….“A Poem in Translation”
* * * * *
Note: in French, the verb essayer means to try and the verb errer means to wander. For over twenty years, I have been trying to translate A vol d’ombre by Haitian poet Jacqueline Beaugé-Rosier. This has constituted a trial of wandering: a grappling with false friends, language, meaning, and memory. My compounded wanderings, or errances, offer a shadow lineage, a timeline of discarded choices. One day, si dieu vle, my translation will finally land home. In the meantime, consider this an essay of errors.
* * * * *
…………………………………………………………………….petitions [supplications]
………………………………………………………….To you this gift of faith of light
………………………………………………………….Eternal return of love
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..stars [the shine]
………………………………………………………………………….star threaded [star spangled]
………………………………………………………………………………….unedited [unpublished unsung unknown unheard]
* * * * * *
……………………………………………………………………Around
……………………………………………………………………Curled up
……………………………………………………………………My singing [warbling]
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..[this]
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….[the]
……………………………………………………………………Gather incense fire
……………………………………………………………………My branches this song
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………the fold [the pen]
……………………………………………………………………I’ve yet
* * * * *
……………………………………………………………………….brushing
……………………………………………………………………….lambis
…………………………………………………………………………………………talk…….stone
………………………………………………………………….linger
…………………………………………………………Lulling
…………………………………………………………………………………………………..perspective
…………………………………………………………Dreams…………surge
…………………………………………………………………………gesture…fixed
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….suffering
……………………………………………………………………………greedy
……………………………………………………………………….crumbled
………………………………………………………Concentrated……………………………………………..stone throws
………………………………………………………………………………………………….enlarged
* * * * *
……………………………………………………………………….shattered
……………………………………………………………………skipped waystations
………………………………………………………………………………..material mastery
…………………………………………………………………………………..interjected
…………………………………………………………………………………………………lived again
…………………………………………………………………………….childhood
………………………………………………………………………………………………………ruthlessly [mercilessly, pitilessly]
………………………………………………………………timeless talk of gods
* * * * *
………………………………………………………………watch
…………………………………………………………………………………chants………………………that are gone
……………………………………………………….Still
Gabrielle Civil is a black feminist performance artist, poet, and writer, originally from Detroit MI. Her translations have appeared in Dislocate, Two Lines, The Caribbean Writer and Kitchen Table Translation. She has premiered fifty performance art works around the world and her performance memoirs include Swallow the Fish (2017), Experiments in Joy (2019), (ghost gestures) performance writing (2021) and the déjà vu (2021). A 2019 Rema Hort Mann Emerging LA Artist, she teaches at the California Institute of the Arts. The aim of her work is to open up space.
Photo credit: Dennie Eagleson
Cover photo: Usry Alleyne