Thursday, May 11, 2006

How Long Flagyl In System

Monica Pavani, poet and translator (2005)

What immediately strikes the poet and translator Ferrara Monica Pavani is the fresh life force that animates his every gesture, every word. An overflowing enthusiasm that has its origin in a real surprise against changing manifestations of reality and its irreducible mystery. A provision is essential in every true poet, which is clearly evident in its clear verses and thirsty. Surprises of this young poet's will to purify his poetry from any narcissistic exhibitionism and generous dedication to the sanctity of the poetic word, sought with tenacity, but without haste, in a continuous and fruitful dialogue with the emptiness and silence, the only way to reach the fullness of the verse.
Le tue due raccolte poetiche, Fugatincanti e Con la pelle accanto , contengono sia testi tuoi, sia traduzioni. In che cosa si differenzia per te la traduzione di testi altrui dallo scrivere poesie in prima persona?
È difficile scrivere qualcosa di proprio avendo una visione lucida di quello che si va facendo. Spesso non è facile nemmeno sentire se i testi appena scritti "parlino" o meno. Tradurre invece ti dà la sensazione di riuscire ad entrare in una stanza che si può percorrere in lungo e in largo, vedendo in dettaglio tutto quello che contiene. In realtà si tratta di un'illusione, perché più si traduce e più ci si accorge che il linguaggio cela infiniti antri hidden, often resist any attempt to unveiling. Another difference is that in my case, the poem is a call intermittently, at some point that is compelling and completely silent in others. On the contrary, can be translated with a certain continuity. In any case, especially when it comes to poetry, a profound empathy with the text to be translated, and I do not think that it eventually becomes too much to say really. This is why I like to mix my poems and translations. Even writing for me is not so much listen to my voice, but the items, which are items of things, air, objects, who is gone? The translation is for me a way to implement this play.
Scrolling Your production can be seen carrying out an intense activity as a translator, and poet as you have published only two collections of verse. Is there any reason?
poetry requires concentration which rarely fails to carve out a space in the newspaper. It is also true that I often have to translate with an urgency imposed from outside, easier to satisfy than the thirst to express my expressive content, which often makes me doubt the start. Beyond this, I feel like everyone I suppose, to have a limited number of themes around which tends to rotate my curiosity, so sometimes I need a long period of silence to avoid falling into the trap of repetition. Traduco molto e scrivo poco un po' perché è diventato il mio ritmo di lavoro, ma anche perché spero che quando rimetterò mano alla penna, se capiterà, avrò qualcosa da dire che ancora non so.
In molti parlano di intraducibilità della poesia. Qual è la tua posizione rispetto a questo argomento?
Io credo che ogni poesia celi sempre uno strato inespresso, un nucleo misterioso, un cassetto che è rimasto chiuso. Forse è inevitabile tradurre con la tacita speranza che il proprio lavoro linguistico, emotivo, possa aprire uno dei tanti "cassetti" di inespresso. Per questo ritengo la traduzione necessaria, anche se è chiaro che non sarà mai l'originale. Il problema, per quanto mi concerns, not the untranslatability of poetry, but the opposite, namely that it is translated too, which is always translated: the meanings, to discover, are never finished. Even change with time, with the changing of the language. Of course, translators involved in a paradoxical way, to work over already, and seem to already know word for word as a mystery.
in your ways it feels a very strong tendency towards the infinite, a veritable frenzy of the universe "?
Poetry can be a way to reactivate groped under primordial seemingly lost forever. Poets who are indispensable to me, are those who manage to get in touch the dimension of existence with the most terrestrial air, heavy and sometimes hopeless. I think that writing poetry is immersed in the dark part of us that language does not have to bring to light the flashes of light that are yielding glimpses of this collapse. In the middle needs to happen a sort of metamorphosis, whereby the magma becomes formless light, turning into poetry or words transparent, with glimpses into the abyss, the infinite love, behind the reality of their signs.

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