Bilingual poetry on tsunami

Reviewed by Ameena Hussein

Tsunami – Lest we forget Author: Rohini Cooray Publisher: Bay Owl Press

Contrary to popular belief, some of the most powerful literature that focuses on an event which has had a major impact on the world has not been produced immediately. In the twenty-first century we still make films and write books on the Second World War and the Holocaust. They continue to make a significant impact and will carry on doing so.

On December 26, 2004 a cataclysmic event occurred in South and South East Asia – the tsunami. It was a word that we didn’t even know the meaning of before it happened in Sri Lanka; it is a word that is now ingrained in our psyche. Perhaps after about a year the first literary offerings on the tsunami began to trickle in and now seven years later it is still a relevant topic. It remains an emotional and psychological scar in world memory. And therefore, it is easy to imagine the lingering effect it has on us Sri Lankans who suffered cruelly by its devastating effects.

The first characteristic that makes an impression regarding Rohini Cooray’s slim volume of poems titled Tsunami, is that it was written in French and then translated into English. Rohini Cooray shares this honour of writing in a language that is not her first language, with many famous international writers like Milan Kundera, Samuel Beckett, and currently Atiq Rahimi, the Afghan, who won the Goncourt Prize a couple of years ago for his novel The Stone of Patience. Secondly, the front and back covers are adorned with artwork reminiscent of the Tsunami, done by the author herself.

The twenty-four poems are nicely presented with the French poem first and the English explanation, as Rohini Cooray puts it, on the facing page. Being a beginner student in French and sadly never progressing further, I quite enjoyed reading the same poem in two languages and appreciated a turn of phrase or image that was conjured by either language.

Upon reading both sets of poems, I quickly realized that we have in reality forty-eight poems, as opposed to poem and translation. For instance, each poem in English is not a line by line translation of the French, but instead a carefully worked and worded poem in itself. For example, the poem titled The Frenzied Water begins in French: Par le mal, par l’horreur, par le deuil… which literally translates as: By the evil, by the horror, by the mourning… however, Rohini chooses to begin the English version of that same poem with the second line of the French poem: I do not know which furious, frantic angel… The two poems begin powerfully, each unique, each appropriate, each arresting.

As my new passion is an interest in translations, perhaps it is appropriate for me to digress for a moment at this point and address translators and the difficulty of translation. This is a book that will have particular importance to would be translators. It is wonderful that Rohini gives us the poem and explanation for each poem, for that in itself is a lesson in translation. What many people do not realise is that translation is not the line by line, word for word, version that some have come to expect. But it is the essence, a feeling, an ability to capture the soul of the text. Rohini does that beautifully for each poem and for those who are lucky enough to know French, even the smattering that I do, it is a rewarding exercise to read both versions of the poem and study the manner of interpretation and subsequent translation.

We are lucky that both French and English are beautiful languages, especially when read aloud. This is a book of poems that I know I will be reading for a long time, during quiet moments, certainly during solitude. In conclusion, I leave you with an image that I cannot let go of:

L’abime a toujours soif, L’air pur,
Ciel ironique et cruellement blue.

This abyss is always thirsty
The sky ironic and cruelly blue.

The writer is the author of The Moon in the Water