Gentle Intention
Mar. 12th, 2026 08:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
michaelboyIt seems...
Recognition of a personal hardship or tragedy doesn't really add to the sum of hurt and it certainly isn't an exact or defined formula of words that nourishes and endures.
Sometimes it's the not really well said that means the most, because more often than not, it is genuine, comes from gentle intention and not from some finely-crafted commercial eloquence that one might find embossed on greeting cards.
* * *
I've read four different translations to this poem and each one has a few parts that, for me, translate well and are really very lovely. In each translation, however, there are parts that also sound incredibly yuky. If I only had a word-blender.
Sometimes, there are simply no words that translate into the original feeling.
La Vie antérieure
J'ai longtemps habité sous de vastes portiques
Que les soleils marins teignaient de mille feux,
Et que leurs grands piliers, droits et majestueux,
Rendaient pareils, le soir, aux grottes basaltiques.
Les houles, en roulant les images des cieux,
Mêlaient d'une façon solennelle et mystique
Les tout-puissants accords de leur riche musique
Aux couleurs du couchant reflété par mes yeux.
C'est là que j'ai vécu dans les voluptés calmes,
Au milieu de l'azur, des vagues, des splendeurs
Et des esclaves nus, tout imprégnés d'odeurs,
Qui me rafraîchissaient le front avec des palmes,
Et dont l'unique soin était d'approfondir
Le secret douloureux qui me faisait languir.
~ Charles Baudelaire
Recognition of a personal hardship or tragedy doesn't really add to the sum of hurt and it certainly isn't an exact or defined formula of words that nourishes and endures.
Sometimes it's the not really well said that means the most, because more often than not, it is genuine, comes from gentle intention and not from some finely-crafted commercial eloquence that one might find embossed on greeting cards.
* * *
I've read four different translations to this poem and each one has a few parts that, for me, translate well and are really very lovely. In each translation, however, there are parts that also sound incredibly yuky. If I only had a word-blender.
Sometimes, there are simply no words that translate into the original feeling.
La Vie antérieure
J'ai longtemps habité sous de vastes portiques
Que les soleils marins teignaient de mille feux,
Et que leurs grands piliers, droits et majestueux,
Rendaient pareils, le soir, aux grottes basaltiques.
Les houles, en roulant les images des cieux,
Mêlaient d'une façon solennelle et mystique
Les tout-puissants accords de leur riche musique
Aux couleurs du couchant reflété par mes yeux.
C'est là que j'ai vécu dans les voluptés calmes,
Au milieu de l'azur, des vagues, des splendeurs
Et des esclaves nus, tout imprégnés d'odeurs,
Qui me rafraîchissaient le front avec des palmes,
Et dont l'unique soin était d'approfondir
Le secret douloureux qui me faisait languir.
~ Charles Baudelaire
no subject
Date: 2026-03-13 05:32 pm (UTC)I just wanted to add that one of the best writers of condolence was Emily Dickinson. Not only in her poetry (of course) but in her correspondence. In reading her collection of letters I was often moved by her expressions of the trauma of loss and the desire to give comfort.
OH! And as I find myself rambling... we had an assignment in my E Dickinson class to choose one of her poems and translate it into a language of our choosing. I chose french since it is the only non-English language with which I have some familiarity (though I am obviously not fluent) and I chose this poem, which to me is quintessential Dickinson-on-grief.
The Bustle in a House
The Morning after Death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted opon Earth –
The Sweeping up the Heart
And putting Love away
We shall not want to use again
Until Eternity –