<em>DoubleSpeak</em> Staff on translating Masajo Suzuki

DoubleSpeak Staff


on translating Masajo Suzuki


Masajo Suzuki’s haiku describes her impossible affair with a married man. As their love is forbidden, they contemplate death in their pursuit of an authentic life in the middle of a meadow lit by fireflies. Our translations, in turn, sought to capture the intense romanticism and desperation imbued in the poem. In the Korean version, for example, the suffix 였었지 was selected as it imparts a sense of strained remembrance, of one looking back at something that will never come back. Similarly, in choosing a word for “whisper,” the Spanish translation landed on susurrar due to its layered meaning of “whisper, murmur, or sigh” — all actions that invoke a sort of longing or want. The first line of the Chinese translation included a Chinese idiom or chengyu, lending a slightly more romantic tone to the poem.

Haikus are an aesthetic art form, one predicated on perfect rhythm and capturing moments of intense beauty and pain. It was hence important to translate it in a way that would appeal to the readers’ senses but also convey the whispering and gentle nature of the night and lovers’ conversations. This led to decisions such as the selection of the Italian word insieme (“together”) instead of con me (“with me”) since the former has a nicer sound and echoes the preceding words andare and morire. Such questions of sonority particularly surfaced when translating the word for “firefly.” Both luciole (French) and candelilla (Spanish) were chosen due to their soft mouthfeel and ability to invoke a strong connotation of light. In the Dutch translation, the diminutive glimwormpjes was chosen over glimwormen to ensure that the reader was presented with an image of tiny, sparkling lights instead of a large firefly.

Haikus are distinguished by their 5-7-5 pattern: five syllables for the first line, seven for the second, and five for the third. Some languages were able to retain this form better than others. The French translation was able to retain the syllable counts by assuming the poem would be read in the traditional French style, where each syllable is enunciated. The English version also maintained the traditional Haiku structure. On the other hand, other translations, such as the Spanish one, decided to forgo the 5-7-5 pattern in order to avoid enjambment and ensure that each line conveyed a separate thought.

Furthermore, the poem is imbued with passivity, further heightening the soft despair of the poetic voice. The first line, “死なうかと,” is a phonetically archaic version of the Japanese “shall we?” form with the at the end implying that it is being said to another person. Certain versions such as the French and Korean translation retained this passivity by recognizing that the “we” is implied by the 같이 (“together”) in the first line. Other translations, however, decided to write in a more active tone to avoid an abundance of syllables and to emulate the directness of a conversation between two lovers. For example, the Italian version settled on andiamo (“we go”) over vorresti (“would you like to”) or dovremo (“shall we”) because the latter choices are too distant and polite.

Through specific decisions related to diction and rhythm, we hope that our translations evoke the same painful longing that only forbidden love can bring.

about the author

Masajo Suzuki (1906–2003) is a renowned haiku poet hailing from Kamogawa, Japan. In addition to successfully running several business ventures, she formally studied haiku under the guidance of masters Hakusuiro, Mantaro Kubota, and Anju Atsushi. Suzuki’s work is renowned for its tenderness and swells with originality and depth. Often drawing from her personal experiences with divorce and the loss of loved ones, her poems wrestle with concepts related to love, nature, and human existence. Her work has received critical acclaim, garnering awards such as the Poet Association Award for her fourth book Yûboraru, the Yomiuri Literature Prize for her sixth book Miyakodori, and the Dakotsushou Prize for her seventh book Shimokuren. Although she passed away peacefully at the age of ninety-six, the universality and authenticity of her work still resonates with her readers who cannot help but become entranced by the evocative imagery of her poetry.

about the translator

DoubleSpeak is composed of a group of passionate language lovers from all over the world! Since word choice can tell you a lot about a person, we decided to provide you a list of all of our staff members and their favorite untranslatable words. Enjoy!

  • Anika Prakesh: Duende (Spanish): the awe someone feels when standing in nature.
  • Ashley Sniffen: Hygge (Danish), when you’re comfortable and it brings you contentment; a lifestyle choice.
  • Chardonnay Needler: Ubuntu (Shona), care and compassion for other human beings based solely upon the fact that they are human too. Ubuntu recognizes that a person’s humanity gives them merit to us, and tells us that we should give merit to all people through our own humanity.
  • Heta Patel: Trasnochar (Spanish), to stay up all night.
  • Julie Flandreau: Fernweh (German), the pain or sadness you feel when you long to be away; wanderlust.
  • Kate Jiang: 江湖 (Mandarin), the social environment where one is not bounded by the government’s rules and acts with their own principles, and tutear (Spanish), address each other by the informal second-person singular pronoun.
  • Mia Kim: Sobremesa (Spanish), the time you spend talking after a meal.
  • Quinn Gruber: Commuovere (Italian), to be moved by something on a deep, emotional level; to provoke an emotional response to a story.
  • Rhosean Asmah: “Rickroll” (English), to trick someone into watching Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” music video, and flâneur (French), a person who walks around to simply enjoy/experience where they are.
  • Robert Chen: Gäggele (German), extremely precise work; to put an unreasonable amount of effort into something.
  • Shuke Zeng: 巴适 (Mandarin), homely comfort.
  • Stacy Shimanuki: 木漏れ日 (Japanese), sunlight streaming through the trees.
  • Stephanie Diaz: Friolenta (Spanish), someone who is very sensitive to cold.
  • Subin Kim: 몽글몽글, an adverb that describes the way things lump together into round blobs. The word describes the fluffy lumping of white clouds in a blue sky and also the lumps of warm feeling that well up in one’s heart. The word itself feels warm, round, and blobby.
  • Vivian Wen: (Mandarin), flower-shape; looks like a flower.
  • Zane Grenoble: Lagaña (Spanish), the sleep in your eye.

Many would argue that no word is truly untranslatable. Additionally, many words “untranslatable” into English have equivalents in other languages which they are related to. For example, the Spanish friolenta has no direct equivalent in English, but it does in French, frileuse. For those reasons, here, we use “untranslatable” to mean untranslatable into English, as that is a language with which all of our staff members are familiar, or without equivalent in other languages that we know.