Propaganda

Stray mother bird in her nest reeksnapo2014button1
of cracked rotted eggs. She’s driven,
good propaganda for a million more,
like a rash. I peek, private of her pair
of hawks. Me? Oh, I dream in the drizzle.

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Author’s Note:

I struggled with posting the poem first today. I have never posted the Author’s Note before the poem. Today I almost did, not being at all sure about the poem.

Today at NaPoRiMo, Day 23: “Today’s prompt (optional, as always), is an oldie-but-a-goodie: the homophonic translation. Find a poem in a language you don’t know, and translate it into English based on the look of the words and their sounds.”

I’ve tried this before and it just doesn’t work with my brain. But today I decided to give it another try.

This really doesn’t work with my brain.

Below, I have given you that part of the poem I used by Slovenian poet, Meta Kusar, written in Slovenian. I chose her because I am half Slovenian; my relatives are from her town, and she was born near the time I was.

Next I put down my “homophonic translation.” (You would think being a first grade reading teacher this would be easy for me. I translate six year-old writing every day.)

And just for fun, I included the real translation, which I did not read until I had finished my poem.

 

 

Poem by Meta Kusar:

 

1.
Sramota in nesreča
kako drevo propada.
Mila moja rajska ptica!
Devet parov rok me odriva in drži.

 

My “homophonic translation”:

Stray mother, in nest reeks,
Cracked, driving propaganda.
Million more, rash covers peeks
Debit pairs of hawks me oh dream in drizzle.

 

English Translation:

Shame and misfortune
to see this tree decay.
My sweet bird of paradise!
Nine pairs of hands holding me up.

2 thoughts on “Propaganda

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