(Reread) The only book of mine that has touched four continents with me. I'm a crappy poetry reader, but when it comes to poetry translation, I'd pick John McGlynn over Harry Aveling.
SDD:
Tuan Tuhan, bukan? Tunggu sebentar,
saya sedang ke luar.
McGlynn:
It's Mister God, is it not? Wait a moment, will you?
I'm out.
Aveling:
Mister mystery, aren't you? Just a moment,
I'm out to lunch.
Both are a great miss, in terms of lyricism and wittiness, but Aveling's translation made me go all 'What the hell?' In the wise words of SDD himself, to translate a poem one must be a poet oneself. Indeed. If I could trade a career, I'd rather die a happy SDD translator than anything. Sadly, the first urge I have whenever I'm thinking of translating a poem is to Leipzig gloss it. Crappy, I told you.