The best translated books that capture the magic of the original, making what’s unfamiliar, foreign or ancient, accessible

The book is dedicated to his three students from Princeton’s translation workshop, “Madeleine, Nadia, and Susan, and their faith in the art of translation.” And yes, that last is me. This dedication has not biased my love for these poems even though I recognize his tutelage in their lines: he taught us to be bold, true and simple, as in Ritsos’s famous poem, “The Meaning of Simplicity,” which begins, “I hide behind simple things, so you’ll find me...” which is placed smack in the middle of this volume.

Many of these poems are short but not simple, as in simplistic. Their references to ancient myths give us another chance to relive the meaning of those myths through the senses; as Ritsos said in one of his interviews, “Human beings develop through their senses, not through their brains.”

It seems repetitive now to sing Wilson’s praises, but I have read many translations of Homer’s Odyssey, from Pope to Fagles, but it was not until I came to Emily Wilson’s rendition that I felt truly drawn, bodily, to Homer and I especially enjoyed her readings, one, in her Introduction to the poem in the book, and two, her performance of it on YouTube.

Also, Judith Thurman’s review/interview of her in the New Yorker is particularly revealing. Her article, “Mother Tongue,” about Wilson’s personal relationship with the poem and her “folk poetics,” spoke to me like a kindred spirit. Poetry, for me, has always been a physiological experience, which is why Wilson’s approach feels so familiar: “I write for the body,” she told Thurman in that interview.

I read this English translation before I even read the book in Chinese, even though Chinese readers in Hong Kong where I grew up all read it as teenagers or young adults. The popular title of the novel is Dream of the Red Chamber, in both English and its original Chinese, but I immediately agreed with Hawkes that The Story of the Stone, one among its many titles, is much more expressive and fitting.

The eighteenth-century aristocratic family is a hugely complex world we are introduced to, but Hawkes’ faithful, resourceful, and unpretentious translation makes getting to know the multitude of characters easy and unforgettable.

Even though it is set in eighteenth-century China, for a twentieth/twenty-first-century English reader like myself, the family dynamics, tragedy, and romance here are palpable thanks to Hawke’s understanding and translation.

Stanley Kunitz, with Max Hayward’s translation of Poems of Akhmatova from Russian, is another book that I find myself going back to over and over again.

This is a poet’s translation of a poet, and not only that, but a poet who is willing to give himself entirely to the art of translation in order to bring another poet’s voice in another language back to life, as he puts it in his Translator’s Note, “...to record what we have heard, and to try to give it back in the language that we love.”

This is why I love these translations; I love that I can hear her through him, the translator as a medium, and the result is pure and uncontrived, hitting me right in the heart as I read and taste these poems out loud. This is a poet-translator who has “walked through many lives” (from Kunitz’s poem, “The Layers.”)

That I would love a poem written/translated by Seamus Heaney did not come as a surprise to me, but that it is Beowulf, a poem/story steeped in the Germanic warrior culture and soaked in blood that enthralled me, did surprise me.

I do not remember the occasion that prompted my reading, but even as I opened the book to its Introduction, and read “...And now this is ‘an inheritance’ --/Upright, rudimentary, unshiftably planked/ In the long ago, yet willable forward...Again and again and again,” I could not put it down.

In fact, you might say, it is not the story but the voice of the poet and how he brought this ancient language and people back to life that compelled me to read on. Of course, the voice is that of the poet of “Digging,” as he traces his roots back to these unlikely ancestors.