One Poem, Two Translations

I read Anne Michaels’ Fugitive Pieces in my junior year of college and have returned to it several times since. The novel is so lyrical, it blurs the line between prose and poetry. It’s such a pleasure to lose myself in her words again and again, immersing myself completely before I come up for air.

My copy was used when I purchased it, so it was already marked up in a lovely shade of green ink. I did some dog-earing of my own when the book came into my possession, and it’s funny to see where I overlap with the mysterious first reader. There’s this beautiful quote we both picked out: “Reading a poem in translation is like kissing a woman through a veil.” 

I was reminded of this line when a friend posted a poem he had translated. Now, I’m a French speaker (with a tiny smattering of Italian/Hebrew), so the Spanish poem was all Greek to me. (Funny joke alert: Fugitive Pieces is set in Greece.) That is, until my friend removed the veil. 

Inspired, I did a little digging into the poet and found a second translation. Fascinating! The general direction was the same, but the difference was keen. It all came down to diction. (I have such respect for people who translate novels…What a Herculean task!) See for yourself:

Caminante
by Antonio Machado

Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino, y nada más;

caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de pisar.
Caminante, no hay camino,
sino estelas en la mar.

Translation by my friend Sean:
Traveler, the path is made
by your passage, nothing more;
Traveler, there is no roadway,
for it is made as you journey.
By walking you make the way,
and turning, you look back to see
a path which you will never tread again.
Traveler, there is no roadway,
save the wild sea's wake.

Translation from Wikipedia:

Walker, your footsteps
are the road, and nothing more.
Walker, there is no road,
the road is made by walking.
Walking you make the road,
and turning to look behind
you see the path you never
again will step upon.
Walker, there is no road,
only foam trails on the sea.

So, how did they stack up? Which one did you prefer? Why? Any Spanish speakers/studiers in the house that could do better? I’ll weigh in with my thoughts when some comments get going. :)