literature

Traduttore, Traditore

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By
Zarathustras-Crown
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Literature Text

We had always put our faith in the
Contingency we'd built in each others
Eyes.  The chance that, in one another
We could create a luminous dance beyond
The places that had been created for us.

The steps you'd taught me were clumsy
For me at first, a meticulously created
Falling down.   Your eyes turned the world
Golden, and in that I had hoped my words
Sacrosanct.

But when my mouth opened, and I tried
To bring you into the fold, I had forgotten,
traduttore, traditore.

My silence was ever shield for the certainty
That I would show people the nightmare
I've known for years.

I didn't show it to you out of malice,
I showed it to you, so that you could
See me as I am.

I'd presumed love a gift, but ever has it been
The endowment of a curse, and a terror
I pass along to the ones I wish gold.
I wrote this rather quickly, so don't expect my general verbose density...won't go into details on the context because they're somewhat personal, but it's largely about miscommunication, and the destruction of beauty through such things.

The title, Traduttore, Traditore which literally means "translator, traitor", though non-Italians (myself included) tend to miss the pun. More coherently it basically implies the same as the Hungarian fordítás: ferdítés, or "Translation is distortion", implying the concept of untranslatability.

The image (for those not familiar with this work) is the brilliant John William Waterhouse and can be found here:

[link]

I had condidered using this one:

[link]

But wasn't sure if it would fit the work. So apologies on the stream-of-consciousness style, but I hope you get something from it.
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