The time has now come for me to introduce my reader to the versions I
have made from the songs of Wandering Students. I must remind him
that, while the majority of these translations aim at literal
exactness and close imitation of the originals in rhyme and structure,
others are more paraphrastic. It has always been my creed that a good
translation should resemble a plaster-cast; the English being _plaque_
upon the original, so as to reproduce its exact form, although it
cannot convey the effects of bronze or marble, which belong to the
material of the work of art. But this method has not always seemed to
me the most desirable for rendering poems, an eminent quality of which
is facility and spontaneity. In order to obtain that quality in our
language, the form has occasionally to be sacrificed.
What Coleridge has reported to have said of Southey may be applied to
a translator. He too "is in some sort like an elegant setter of
jewels; the stones are not his own: he gives them all the advantage of
his art, but not their native brilliancy." I feel even more than this
when I attempt translation, and reflect that, unlike the jeweller, it
is my doom to reduce the lustre of the gems I handle, even if I do not
substitute paste and pebbles. Yet I am frequently enticed to repeat
experiments, which afterwards I regard in the light of failures. What
allures me first is the pleasure of passing into that intimate
familiarity with art which only a copyist or a translator enjoys. I am
next impelled by the desire to fix the attention of readers on things
which I admire, and which are possibly beyond their scope of view.
Lastly comes that _ignis fatuus_ of the hope, for ever renewed, if
also for ever disappointed, that some addition may be made in this way
to the wealth of English poetry. A few exquisite pieces in Latin
literature, the Catullian _Ille mi par_, for example, a few in our
own, such as Jonson's _Drink to me only with thine eyes_, are
translations. Possibly the miracle of such poetic transmutation may be
repeated for me; possibly an English song may come to birth by my
means also. With this hope in view, the translator is strongly tempted
to engraft upon his versions elegances in the spirit of his native
language, or to use the motives of the original for improvisations in
his own manner. I must plead guilty to having here and there yielded
to this temptation, as may appear upon comparison of my English with
the Latin. All translation is a compromise; and while being conscious
of having to sacrifice much, the translator finds himself often
seeking to add something as a makeweight.
I shall divide my specimens into nine Sections. The first will include
those which deal with the Order of Wandering Students in general,
winding up with the _Confession_ ascribed to Golias, the father of the
family. The second, third, fourth, and fifth are closely connected,
since they contain spring-songs, pastorals, descriptive poems touching
upon love, and erotic lyrics. The sixth Section will be devoted to a
few songs of exile, doubt, and sorrow. In the seventh we shall reach
anacreontics on the theme of wine, passing in the eighth to parodies
and comic pieces. Four or five serious compositions will close the
list in the ninth Section.
At the end of the book I mean to print a table containing detailed
references to the originals of the songs I have chosen for
translation, together with an index of the principal works that have
been published on this subject.