I recently found a translation of an article by the French anarchist Albert Libertad. Reading through the text I found a few areas that didn't seem quite right, so using my VERY limited French I changed a few words. There are still quite a few areas that do not quite scan right. If anyone can add to the work, please help:
I have set up a page at
http://www.martinshakeshaft.com/libertad.html
This is a phrase that I particularly need help with: Vous êtes donc une force, ô résignés, de ces forces qui s’ignorent mais qui n’en sont pas moins des forces, et je ne peux pas cracher sur vous, je ne peux que vous haïr…ou vous aimer.
There are other parts of the translation that could do with work but my French isn't up to it. Any help would be appreciated.
I can be contacted at..... alibertad05.......@..........gmail...........com just take out the full stops
Thanks
Martin
Need help translating French text - A Libertad 1905
10 messages • Page 1 sur 1
Need help translating French text - A Libertad 1905
de alibertad05 le Lun 21 Juin 2010 00:28
Dernière édition par alibertad05 le Lun 21 Juin 2010 01:43, édité 1 fois.
- alibertad05
- Messages: 5
- Inscription: Lun 21 Juin 2010 00:22
Re: Need help translating French text - A Libertad 1905
de hocus le Lun 21 Juin 2010 00:38
Couldn't you post the whole text here , so that we could work the translation out collectively here ?
I get "404 not found" with your link.
For the sentence :
"Vous êtes donc une force, ô résignés, de ces forces qui s’ignorent mais qui n’en sont pas moins des forces, et je ne peux pas cracher sur vous, je ne peux que vous haïr…ou vous aimer."
I'd say something like :
"You are hence a force, you resigned ones, of the kind of forces which are unaware of themselves but are forces nevertheless , and I can't spit on you, I can only hate you... or love you".
"resigned" here means something like "who accept despair"
(I don"t know if my english si correct, but I think this is the idea).
I get "404 not found" with your link.
For the sentence :
"Vous êtes donc une force, ô résignés, de ces forces qui s’ignorent mais qui n’en sont pas moins des forces, et je ne peux pas cracher sur vous, je ne peux que vous haïr…ou vous aimer."
I'd say something like :
"You are hence a force, you resigned ones, of the kind of forces which are unaware of themselves but are forces nevertheless , and I can't spit on you, I can only hate you... or love you".
"resigned" here means something like "who accept despair"
(I don"t know if my english si correct, but I think this is the idea).
- hocus
Re: Need help translating French text - A Libertad 1905
de alibertad05 le Lun 21 Juin 2010 01:47
I have corrected the link sorry it should have been http://www.martinshakeshaft.com/libertad.html
Below is the French version and below that an English translation... but it needs work!
Je hais les résignés !
Je hais les résignés, comme je hais les malpropres, comme je hais les fainéants. Je hais la résignation ! Je hais la malpropreté, je hais l’inaction. Je hais le malade courbé sous quelque fièvre maligne ; je hais le malade imaginaire qu’un peu de volonté remettrait droit. Je plains l’homme enchaîné, entouré de gardiens, écrasé du poids du fer et du nombre. Je hais les soldats que courbe le poids d’un galon ou de trois étoiles ; les travailleurs que courbe le poids du capital. J’aime l’homme qui dit ce qu’il sent où qu’il se trouve ; je hais le votard à la conquête perpétuelle d’une majorité. J’aime le savant écrasé sous le poids des recherches scientifiques ; je hais l’individu qui courbe son corps sous le poids d’une puissance inconnue, d’un X quelconque, d’un dieu. Je hais, dis-je, tous ceux qui, cédant à autrui, par peur, par résignation, une part de leur puissance d’homme, non seulement s’écrasent mais m’écrasent, moi ceux que j’aime, du poids de leur concours affreux ou de leur inertie idiote. Je hais, oui, je les hais, car moi je le sens, je ne me courbe pas sous le galon de l’officier, l’écharpe du maire, l’or du capitaliste, les morales ou les religions ; il y a longtemps que je sais que tout cela n’est que hochets que l’on brise comme verre …Je me courbe sous le poids de la résignation d’autrui. Ô je hais la résignation !
J’aime la vie. Je veux vivre, non mesquinement comme ceux qui ne satisfont qu’une part de leurs muscles, de leurs nerfs, mais largement en satisfaisant les muscles faciaux tout aussi bien que ceux des mollets, la masse de mes reins comme celle de mon cerveau. Je ne veux pas troquer une part de maintenant pour une part fictive de demain, je ne veux céder en rien du présent pour le vent de l’avenir. Je ne veux rien courber de moi sous les mots « partie, Dieu, honneur ». Je sais trop le vide de ces mots : spectres religieux et laïque. Je me moque des retraites, des paradis, sous l’espoir desquels tiennent résignés, religion et capital. Je ris de ceux qui, accumulant pour leur vieillesse, se privent en leur jeunesse ; de ceux qui, pour manger à soixante, jeûnent à vingt ans.
Moi, je veux manger lorsque j’ai les dents fortes pour déchirer et broyer les viandes saines et leurs fruits succulents, lorsque les sucs de mon estomac digèrent sans aucun trouble ; je veux boire à ma soif les liquides rafraîchissants ou toniques. Je veux aimer les femmes, ou la femme selon qu’il conviendra à nos désirs communs, et je ne veux pas me résigner à la famille, à la loi, au code ; nul n’a droit sur nos corps. Tu veux, je veux. Moquons-nous de la famille, de la loi, antique forme de résignation.
Mais ce n’est pas tout : je veux puisque j’ai des yeux, des oreilles, d’autres sens que le boire, le manger, l’amour sexuel, jouir sous d’autres formes. Je veux voir les belles sculptures, les belles peintures, admirer Rodin ou Manet. Je veux entendre les meilleurs opéras, jouer Beethoven ou Wagner. Je veux connaître les classiques en la comédie, feuilleter le bagage littéraire, artistique qu’ont légué les hommes passés aux hommes présent ou mieux feuilleter l’œuvre toujours et à jamais inachevée de l’humanité. Je veux la joie pour moi, pour la compagne choisie, pour les enfants, pour les amis. Je veux un home où se puissent reposer agréablement mes yeux après le labeur fini. Car je veux le joie du labeur aussi, cette joie saine, cette joie forte. Je veux que mes bras manient le rabot, le marteau, la bêche ou la faux. Que les muscles se développent, que la cage thoracique s’élargisse à des mouvements puissants, utiles et raisonnés. Je veux être utile, je veux que nous soyons utiles. Je veux être utile à mon voisin et je veux que mon voisin me soit utile. Je désire que nous œuvrions beaucoup car je suis insatiable de jouissance. Et c’est parce que je veux jouir que je ne suis résigné.
Oui, oui, je veux produire, mais je veux jouir ; je veux pétrir la pâte, mais manger du meilleur pain ; faire la vendange, mais boire du meilleur vin ; construire la maison mais habiter de meilleur appartement ; faire les meubles, mais posséder l’utile, voire le beau ; je veux faire faire des théâtres, mais assez vaste pour y loger les miens et moi. Je veux coopérer à produire, mais je veux coopérer à consommer. Que les uns rêvent de produire pour d’autres à qui ils laisseront, ô ironie, le meilleur de leurs efforts, pour moi je veux, groupé librement, produire mais consommer.
Résignés, regardez, je crache sur vos idoles, je crache sur Dieu, je crache sur la patrie, je crache sur le Christ, je crache sur les drapeaux, je crache sur le capital et sur le veau d’or, je crache sur les religions : ce sont des hochets, je m’en moque, je m’en ris… Ils ne sont rien que par vous, quittez-les et ils se brisent en miettes. Vous êtes donc une force, ô résignés, de ces forces qui s’ignorent mais qui n’en sont pas moins des forces, et je ne peux pas cracher sur vous, je ne peux que vous haïr…ou vous aimer.
Par-dessus tous mes désirs, j’ai celui de vous voir secouer votre résignation dans un réveil terrible de vie. Il n’y a pas de paradis futur, il n’y a pas d’avenir, il n’y a que le présent.
Vivons-nous ! Vivons ! La résignation, c’est la mort. La révolte, c’est la vie.
Albert Libertad, dans L’anarchie, 13 avril 1905.
Latest updated edit.
I hate the resigned!
I hate the resigned, like I hate the slovenly, like I hate the lazy! I hate resignation! I hate slovenliness, I hate inaction. I feel for the sick man bent under some malignant fever; I hate the hypochondriac, who with a little bit of will would be set on his feet. I feel for the man in chains, surrounded by guardians crushed under the weight of irons on the many. I hate soldiers who are bent by the weight of braids and three stars; the workers who are bent under the weight of capital. I love the man who says what he feels wherever he is; I hate the voter seeking the perpetual conquest by the majority. I love the scientist crushed under the weight of scientific research; I hate the individual who bends his body under the weight of an unknown power, of some “X,” of a God. I hate, I say, all those who, surrendering to others through fear or resignation a part of their power as men, not only keep their heads down, but make me, and those I love, keep our heads down, too through the weight of their frightful collaboration or their idiotic inertia. I hate them; yes I hate them, because me, I feel it. I don’t bow before the officer’s braid, the mayor’s sash, the gold of the capitalist; morality or religion. For a long time I have known that all of these things are just baubles that we can break like glass...I bend beneath the weight of the resignation of others. O how I hate resignation!
I love life. I want to live, not in a petty way like those who only satisfy a part of their muscles, their nerves, but in a big way, satisfying facial muscles as well as calves, my back as well as my brain. I don’t want to trade a portion of now for a fictive portion of tomorrow. I don’t want to surrender anything of the present for the wind of the future. I don’t want to bend anything of mine under the words fatherland, God, honour. I too well know the emptiness of these words, these religious and secular ghosts. I laugh at retirement, at paradises the hope for which hope holds the resigned, religions, and capital. I laugh at those who, saving for their old age, deprive themselves in their youth; those who, in order to eat at sixty, fast at twenty.
I want to eat while I have strong teeth to tear and crush healthy meats and succulent fruits. When my stomach juices digest without problem I want to drink my fill of refreshing and tonic drinks. I want to love women, or a woman, depending on our common desire, and I don’t want to resign myself to the family, law the Code; nothing has any rights over our bodies. You want, I want. Let us laugh at the family, the law, the ancient form of resignation.
But this isn’t all. I want, since I have eyes, ears, and other senses, more than just to drink, to ea, to enjoy sexual love: I want to experience joy in other forms. I want to see beautiful sculptures and painting, admire Rodin or Manet. I want to hear the best opera companies play Beethoven or Wagner. I want to know the classics at the Comedie Française, page through the literary and artistic baggage left by men of the past to men of the present, or even better, page through the now and forever unfinished oeuvre of humanity. I want joy for myself, for my chosen companion, for my friends. I want a home where my eyes can agreeably rest when my work is done. For I want the joy of labour, too; that healthy joy, that strong joy. I want my arms to handle the plane, the hammer, the spade and the scythe. Let the muscles develop, the thoracic cage become larger with powerful, useful and reasoned movements. I want to be useful, I want us to be useful. I want to be useful to my neighbour and for my neighbour to be useful to me. I desire that we labour much, for I am insatiable for joy. And it is because I want to enjoy myself that I am not resigned.
Yes, yes I want to produce, but I want to enjoy myself. I want to knead the dough, but eat better bread; to work at the grape harvest, but drink better wine; build a house, but live in better apartments; make furniture, but possess the useful, see the beautiful; I want to make theatres, but big enough to house their me and mine. I want to cooperate in producing, but I also want to cooperate in consuming. Some dream of producing for others to whom they will leave, oh the irony of it, the best of their efforts. As for me, I want, freely united with others, to produce but also to consume.
You resigned, look: I spit on your idols. I spit on God, the Fatherland, I spit on Christ, I spit on the flag, I spit on capital and the golden calf; I spit on laws and Codes, on the symbols of religion; they are baubles, I couldn’t care less about them, I laugh at them... Only through you do they mean anything to me; leave them behind and they’ll break into pieces. You are thus a force, you resigned, one of those forces that don’t know they are one, but who are nevertheless a force, and I can’t spit on you, I can only hate you...or love you.
Above all my desire is to see you shake off your resignation and awaken from your terrible dream. There is no future paradise, there is no future; there is only the present.
Let us live! Resignation is death. Revolt is life.
_____________
Thanks for your help!
Below is the French version and below that an English translation... but it needs work!
Je hais les résignés !
Je hais les résignés, comme je hais les malpropres, comme je hais les fainéants. Je hais la résignation ! Je hais la malpropreté, je hais l’inaction. Je hais le malade courbé sous quelque fièvre maligne ; je hais le malade imaginaire qu’un peu de volonté remettrait droit. Je plains l’homme enchaîné, entouré de gardiens, écrasé du poids du fer et du nombre. Je hais les soldats que courbe le poids d’un galon ou de trois étoiles ; les travailleurs que courbe le poids du capital. J’aime l’homme qui dit ce qu’il sent où qu’il se trouve ; je hais le votard à la conquête perpétuelle d’une majorité. J’aime le savant écrasé sous le poids des recherches scientifiques ; je hais l’individu qui courbe son corps sous le poids d’une puissance inconnue, d’un X quelconque, d’un dieu. Je hais, dis-je, tous ceux qui, cédant à autrui, par peur, par résignation, une part de leur puissance d’homme, non seulement s’écrasent mais m’écrasent, moi ceux que j’aime, du poids de leur concours affreux ou de leur inertie idiote. Je hais, oui, je les hais, car moi je le sens, je ne me courbe pas sous le galon de l’officier, l’écharpe du maire, l’or du capitaliste, les morales ou les religions ; il y a longtemps que je sais que tout cela n’est que hochets que l’on brise comme verre …Je me courbe sous le poids de la résignation d’autrui. Ô je hais la résignation !
J’aime la vie. Je veux vivre, non mesquinement comme ceux qui ne satisfont qu’une part de leurs muscles, de leurs nerfs, mais largement en satisfaisant les muscles faciaux tout aussi bien que ceux des mollets, la masse de mes reins comme celle de mon cerveau. Je ne veux pas troquer une part de maintenant pour une part fictive de demain, je ne veux céder en rien du présent pour le vent de l’avenir. Je ne veux rien courber de moi sous les mots « partie, Dieu, honneur ». Je sais trop le vide de ces mots : spectres religieux et laïque. Je me moque des retraites, des paradis, sous l’espoir desquels tiennent résignés, religion et capital. Je ris de ceux qui, accumulant pour leur vieillesse, se privent en leur jeunesse ; de ceux qui, pour manger à soixante, jeûnent à vingt ans.
Moi, je veux manger lorsque j’ai les dents fortes pour déchirer et broyer les viandes saines et leurs fruits succulents, lorsque les sucs de mon estomac digèrent sans aucun trouble ; je veux boire à ma soif les liquides rafraîchissants ou toniques. Je veux aimer les femmes, ou la femme selon qu’il conviendra à nos désirs communs, et je ne veux pas me résigner à la famille, à la loi, au code ; nul n’a droit sur nos corps. Tu veux, je veux. Moquons-nous de la famille, de la loi, antique forme de résignation.
Mais ce n’est pas tout : je veux puisque j’ai des yeux, des oreilles, d’autres sens que le boire, le manger, l’amour sexuel, jouir sous d’autres formes. Je veux voir les belles sculptures, les belles peintures, admirer Rodin ou Manet. Je veux entendre les meilleurs opéras, jouer Beethoven ou Wagner. Je veux connaître les classiques en la comédie, feuilleter le bagage littéraire, artistique qu’ont légué les hommes passés aux hommes présent ou mieux feuilleter l’œuvre toujours et à jamais inachevée de l’humanité. Je veux la joie pour moi, pour la compagne choisie, pour les enfants, pour les amis. Je veux un home où se puissent reposer agréablement mes yeux après le labeur fini. Car je veux le joie du labeur aussi, cette joie saine, cette joie forte. Je veux que mes bras manient le rabot, le marteau, la bêche ou la faux. Que les muscles se développent, que la cage thoracique s’élargisse à des mouvements puissants, utiles et raisonnés. Je veux être utile, je veux que nous soyons utiles. Je veux être utile à mon voisin et je veux que mon voisin me soit utile. Je désire que nous œuvrions beaucoup car je suis insatiable de jouissance. Et c’est parce que je veux jouir que je ne suis résigné.
Oui, oui, je veux produire, mais je veux jouir ; je veux pétrir la pâte, mais manger du meilleur pain ; faire la vendange, mais boire du meilleur vin ; construire la maison mais habiter de meilleur appartement ; faire les meubles, mais posséder l’utile, voire le beau ; je veux faire faire des théâtres, mais assez vaste pour y loger les miens et moi. Je veux coopérer à produire, mais je veux coopérer à consommer. Que les uns rêvent de produire pour d’autres à qui ils laisseront, ô ironie, le meilleur de leurs efforts, pour moi je veux, groupé librement, produire mais consommer.
Résignés, regardez, je crache sur vos idoles, je crache sur Dieu, je crache sur la patrie, je crache sur le Christ, je crache sur les drapeaux, je crache sur le capital et sur le veau d’or, je crache sur les religions : ce sont des hochets, je m’en moque, je m’en ris… Ils ne sont rien que par vous, quittez-les et ils se brisent en miettes. Vous êtes donc une force, ô résignés, de ces forces qui s’ignorent mais qui n’en sont pas moins des forces, et je ne peux pas cracher sur vous, je ne peux que vous haïr…ou vous aimer.
Par-dessus tous mes désirs, j’ai celui de vous voir secouer votre résignation dans un réveil terrible de vie. Il n’y a pas de paradis futur, il n’y a pas d’avenir, il n’y a que le présent.
Vivons-nous ! Vivons ! La résignation, c’est la mort. La révolte, c’est la vie.
Albert Libertad, dans L’anarchie, 13 avril 1905.
Latest updated edit.
I hate the resigned!
I hate the resigned, like I hate the slovenly, like I hate the lazy! I hate resignation! I hate slovenliness, I hate inaction. I feel for the sick man bent under some malignant fever; I hate the hypochondriac, who with a little bit of will would be set on his feet. I feel for the man in chains, surrounded by guardians crushed under the weight of irons on the many. I hate soldiers who are bent by the weight of braids and three stars; the workers who are bent under the weight of capital. I love the man who says what he feels wherever he is; I hate the voter seeking the perpetual conquest by the majority. I love the scientist crushed under the weight of scientific research; I hate the individual who bends his body under the weight of an unknown power, of some “X,” of a God. I hate, I say, all those who, surrendering to others through fear or resignation a part of their power as men, not only keep their heads down, but make me, and those I love, keep our heads down, too through the weight of their frightful collaboration or their idiotic inertia. I hate them; yes I hate them, because me, I feel it. I don’t bow before the officer’s braid, the mayor’s sash, the gold of the capitalist; morality or religion. For a long time I have known that all of these things are just baubles that we can break like glass...I bend beneath the weight of the resignation of others. O how I hate resignation!
I love life. I want to live, not in a petty way like those who only satisfy a part of their muscles, their nerves, but in a big way, satisfying facial muscles as well as calves, my back as well as my brain. I don’t want to trade a portion of now for a fictive portion of tomorrow. I don’t want to surrender anything of the present for the wind of the future. I don’t want to bend anything of mine under the words fatherland, God, honour. I too well know the emptiness of these words, these religious and secular ghosts. I laugh at retirement, at paradises the hope for which hope holds the resigned, religions, and capital. I laugh at those who, saving for their old age, deprive themselves in their youth; those who, in order to eat at sixty, fast at twenty.
I want to eat while I have strong teeth to tear and crush healthy meats and succulent fruits. When my stomach juices digest without problem I want to drink my fill of refreshing and tonic drinks. I want to love women, or a woman, depending on our common desire, and I don’t want to resign myself to the family, law the Code; nothing has any rights over our bodies. You want, I want. Let us laugh at the family, the law, the ancient form of resignation.
But this isn’t all. I want, since I have eyes, ears, and other senses, more than just to drink, to ea, to enjoy sexual love: I want to experience joy in other forms. I want to see beautiful sculptures and painting, admire Rodin or Manet. I want to hear the best opera companies play Beethoven or Wagner. I want to know the classics at the Comedie Française, page through the literary and artistic baggage left by men of the past to men of the present, or even better, page through the now and forever unfinished oeuvre of humanity. I want joy for myself, for my chosen companion, for my friends. I want a home where my eyes can agreeably rest when my work is done. For I want the joy of labour, too; that healthy joy, that strong joy. I want my arms to handle the plane, the hammer, the spade and the scythe. Let the muscles develop, the thoracic cage become larger with powerful, useful and reasoned movements. I want to be useful, I want us to be useful. I want to be useful to my neighbour and for my neighbour to be useful to me. I desire that we labour much, for I am insatiable for joy. And it is because I want to enjoy myself that I am not resigned.
Yes, yes I want to produce, but I want to enjoy myself. I want to knead the dough, but eat better bread; to work at the grape harvest, but drink better wine; build a house, but live in better apartments; make furniture, but possess the useful, see the beautiful; I want to make theatres, but big enough to house their me and mine. I want to cooperate in producing, but I also want to cooperate in consuming. Some dream of producing for others to whom they will leave, oh the irony of it, the best of their efforts. As for me, I want, freely united with others, to produce but also to consume.
You resigned, look: I spit on your idols. I spit on God, the Fatherland, I spit on Christ, I spit on the flag, I spit on capital and the golden calf; I spit on laws and Codes, on the symbols of religion; they are baubles, I couldn’t care less about them, I laugh at them... Only through you do they mean anything to me; leave them behind and they’ll break into pieces. You are thus a force, you resigned, one of those forces that don’t know they are one, but who are nevertheless a force, and I can’t spit on you, I can only hate you...or love you.
Above all my desire is to see you shake off your resignation and awaken from your terrible dream. There is no future paradise, there is no future; there is only the present.
Let us live! Resignation is death. Revolt is life.
_____________
Thanks for your help!
- alibertad05
- Messages: 5
- Inscription: Lun 21 Juin 2010 00:22
Re: Need help translating French text - A Libertad 1905
de Miaoû le Lun 21 Juin 2010 01:53
hocus a écrit:Couldn't you post the whole text here , so that we could work the translation out collectively here ?
I get "404 not found" with your link.
The link works for me. Try again later
For the sentence :
"Vous êtes donc une force, ô résignés, de ces forces qui s’ignorent mais qui n’en sont pas moins des forces, et je ne peux pas cracher sur vous, je ne peux que vous haïr…ou vous aimer."
I'd say something like :
"You are hence a force, you resigned ones, of the kind of forces which are unaware of themselves but are forces nevertheless , and I can't spit on you, I can only hate you... or love you".
"resigned" here means something like "who accept despair"
(I don"t know if my english si correct, but I think this is the idea).
For "resigned", i've found that : http://www.wordreference.com/fren/r%C3%A9sign%C3%A9
I think the good word for "résigné" would be more that : résigné adj (face à la maladie, devant une décision) uncomplaining accepting
-
Miaoû - Messages: 659
- Inscription: Mar 20 Oct 2009 00:21
Re: Need help translating French text - A Libertad 1905
de hocus le Lun 21 Juin 2010 04:09
It' quite late now here, but I'll try to have it done for tomorrow. Your translation seems quite good at first glance.
I think there is a few errors in your french version though. e.g : you wrote : "Je hais le malade courbé sous quelque fièvre maligne" while it is certainly "je plains le malade courbé sous quelque fièvre maligne".
Might be some other typos there in the french text.
More tomorrow.
Very good and interesting pictures you have there on your site.
I think there is a few errors in your french version though. e.g : you wrote : "Je hais le malade courbé sous quelque fièvre maligne" while it is certainly "je plains le malade courbé sous quelque fièvre maligne".
Might be some other typos there in the french text.
More tomorrow.
Very good and interesting pictures you have there on your site.
- hocus
Re: Need help translating French text - A Libertad 1905
de alibertad05 le Mar 22 Juin 2010 19:48
hocus a écrit:It' quite late now here, but I'll try to have it done for tomorrow. Your translation seems quite good at first glance.
I think there is a few errors in your french version though. e.g : you wrote : "Je hais le malade courbé sous quelque fièvre maligne" while it is certainly "je plains le malade courbé sous quelque fièvre maligne".
Might be some other typos there in the french text.
More tomorrow.
Very good and interesting pictures you have there on your site.
I got the original from here http://www.non-fides.fr/?Aux-resignes
The starting point for the translation was http://www.marxists.org/archive/liberta ... signed.htm
Thanks for the comments on the pictures. I have worked for the left press in the UK for many years. There are also images here http://www.strike84.co.uk
I want to use the translation with a new set of pictures I am working on.
Thanks
Martin
- alibertad05
- Messages: 5
- Inscription: Lun 21 Juin 2010 00:22
Re: Need help translating French text - A Libertad 1905
de hocus le Ven 25 Juin 2010 00:33
Hi, sorry for not keeping up to my promise. But it's now done.
I've put into ( ) the pieces i think are not correct, and/or pieces I think would better be removed from the english version you posted, and I put into [ ] my own suggestions. I aslo put question marks where I was not very sure of my suggestions. Of course my english won't always be correct, but I think you'll get the meaning.
I guess the french version you took from non-fides had a few problem. For example, near the end, while the english version you had mentions "I spit on the laws and the Code", the french version had nothing. That's why i put many question marks.
Let me know what you think and if this helps.
What will your work involving this text look like ? Where could one see it ?
*********************************
I hate the resigned!
I hate the resigned, like I hate the slovenly, like I hate the lazy! I hate resignation! I hate slovenliness, I hate inaction. I feel for the sick man bent under some malignant fever; I hate the hypochondriac, who with a little bit of will would be set on his feet. I feel for the man in chains, surrounded by guardians, crushed under the weight of irons (on the many) [and outnumberness/ and outnumbered]. I hate soldiers who are bent by the weight of (braids) [a braid] and three stars; the workers who are bent under the weight of capital. I love the man who says what he feels wherever he is; I hate the voter (seeking) [in] the perpetual conquest (by) [of] the majority. I love the scientist crushed under the weight of scientific research; I hate the individual who bends his body under the weight of an unknown power, of some “X,” of a (God) [god]. I hate, I say, all those who, surrendering to others (through) [because of] fear or resignation a part of their power as men, not only keep their heads down, but make me, and those I love, keep our heads down too through the weight of their frightful collaboration or their idiotic inertia. I hate (them), yes, I hate them, because (me,) I feel it, I don’t bow before the officer’s braid, the mayor’s sash, the gold of the capitalist; (morality) [moralities] or (religion) [religions]. For a long time I have known that all of these things are just baubles that we can break like glass...I bend beneath the weight of the resignation of others. O how I hate resignation!
I love life. I want to live, not in a petty way like those who only satisfy a part of their muscles, [of] their nerves, but (in a big way) [greatly] [by] satisfying facial muscles as well as calves, my back as well as my brain. I don’t want to trade a portion of now for a fictive portion of tomorrow, I don’t want to surrender anything of the present for the wind of the future. I don’t want to bend anything of mine under the words « fatherland, God, honour ». I too well know the emptiness of these words, these religious and secular ghosts. I laugh at retirement, at paradises, (the hope for which hope) [under the hope of which ?] holds the resigned, religions, and capital. I laugh at those who, saving for their old age, deprive themselves in their youth; those who, in order to eat at sixty, fast at twenty.
[myself, ?] I want to eat while I have strong teeth to tear and crush healthy meats and succulent fruits, (When) [while] my stomach juices digest without problem; I want to drink my fill of refreshing and tonic drinks. I want to love women, or a woman, depending on our common desire, and I don’t want to resign myself to the family, [the] law, the Code; (nothing) [no one] has any rights over our bodies. You want, I want. Let us laugh at the family, the law, (the ancient) [antiquated] form of resignation.
But this isn’t all: I want, since I have eyes, ears, and other senses (, more) than just (to drink) [the drinking], (to ea) [the eating], (to enjoy) the sexual love, (I want to experience joy) [to please/enjoy myself] in other forms. I want to see beautiful sculptures and painting, admire Rodin or Manet. I want to hear the best opera (companies) , [to] play Beethoven or Wagner. I want to know the (classics at the Comedie Française) [classics of comedy], page through the literary and artistic baggage (left) [passed on] by men of the past to men of the present, or even better, page through the now and forever unfinished oeuvre of humanity. I want joy for myself, for my chosen [female] companion, for my friends. I want a home where my eyes can agreeably rest when my work is done. For I want the joy of labour too, that healthy joy, that strong joy. I want my arms to handle the plane, the hammer, the spade and the scythe. (Let) [I want] the muscles [to] develop, the thoracic cage [to] become larger with powerful, useful and reasoned movements. I want to be useful, I want us to be useful. I want to be useful to my neighbour and (for) my neighbour to be useful to me. I desire that we labour much, for I am insatiable for joy. And it is because I want to enjoy myself that I am not resigned.
Yes, yes, I want to produce, but I want to enjoy (myself?); I want to knead the dough, but eat better bread; to work at the grape harvest, but drink better wine; build a house, but live in better apartments; make furniture, but possess the useful, (see) [and indeed even] the beautiful; I want to make theatres, but big enough to house (their me and mine) [my companions and myself]. I want to cooperate in producing, but I (also?) want to cooperate in consuming. [let ?] Some dream of producing for others to whom they will leave, oh the irony of it, the best of their efforts. As for me, I want, freely united with others, to produce but also to consume.
You resigned, look: I spit on your idols, I spit on God, [I spit on] the Fatherland, I spit on Christ, I spit on (the flag) [flags], I spit on capital and the golden calf (; I spit on laws and Codes, ????), [I spit ] on (the symbols of religion) [religions]; they are baubles, I (couldn’t care less about them) [discount/despise them] , I laugh at them... (Only through you do they mean anything to me) [Only by you do they exist // It is only because of you that they are something]; leave them behind and they’ll break into pieces. You are thus a force, you resigned, one of those forces that don’t know they are one, but who are nevertheless (a force) [forces], and I can’t spit on you, I can only hate you...or love you.
Above all my desire is [the desire] to see you shake off your resignation (and awaken from your terrible dream) [in a tremendous awakening of life]. There is no future paradise, there is no future; there is only the present.
[Let us live ourselves ! ?] Let us live! Resignation is death. Revolt is life.
Albert Libertad, in "L'anarchie", April 13th 1905.
I've put into ( ) the pieces i think are not correct, and/or pieces I think would better be removed from the english version you posted, and I put into [ ] my own suggestions. I aslo put question marks where I was not very sure of my suggestions. Of course my english won't always be correct, but I think you'll get the meaning.
I guess the french version you took from non-fides had a few problem. For example, near the end, while the english version you had mentions "I spit on the laws and the Code", the french version had nothing. That's why i put many question marks.
Let me know what you think and if this helps.
What will your work involving this text look like ? Where could one see it ?
*********************************
I hate the resigned!
I hate the resigned, like I hate the slovenly, like I hate the lazy! I hate resignation! I hate slovenliness, I hate inaction. I feel for the sick man bent under some malignant fever; I hate the hypochondriac, who with a little bit of will would be set on his feet. I feel for the man in chains, surrounded by guardians, crushed under the weight of irons (on the many) [and outnumberness/ and outnumbered]. I hate soldiers who are bent by the weight of (braids) [a braid] and three stars; the workers who are bent under the weight of capital. I love the man who says what he feels wherever he is; I hate the voter (seeking) [in] the perpetual conquest (by) [of] the majority. I love the scientist crushed under the weight of scientific research; I hate the individual who bends his body under the weight of an unknown power, of some “X,” of a (God) [god]. I hate, I say, all those who, surrendering to others (through) [because of] fear or resignation a part of their power as men, not only keep their heads down, but make me, and those I love, keep our heads down too through the weight of their frightful collaboration or their idiotic inertia. I hate (them), yes, I hate them, because (me,) I feel it, I don’t bow before the officer’s braid, the mayor’s sash, the gold of the capitalist; (morality) [moralities] or (religion) [religions]. For a long time I have known that all of these things are just baubles that we can break like glass...I bend beneath the weight of the resignation of others. O how I hate resignation!
I love life. I want to live, not in a petty way like those who only satisfy a part of their muscles, [of] their nerves, but (in a big way) [greatly] [by] satisfying facial muscles as well as calves, my back as well as my brain. I don’t want to trade a portion of now for a fictive portion of tomorrow, I don’t want to surrender anything of the present for the wind of the future. I don’t want to bend anything of mine under the words « fatherland, God, honour ». I too well know the emptiness of these words, these religious and secular ghosts. I laugh at retirement, at paradises, (the hope for which hope) [under the hope of which ?] holds the resigned, religions, and capital. I laugh at those who, saving for their old age, deprive themselves in their youth; those who, in order to eat at sixty, fast at twenty.
[myself, ?] I want to eat while I have strong teeth to tear and crush healthy meats and succulent fruits, (When) [while] my stomach juices digest without problem; I want to drink my fill of refreshing and tonic drinks. I want to love women, or a woman, depending on our common desire, and I don’t want to resign myself to the family, [the] law, the Code; (nothing) [no one] has any rights over our bodies. You want, I want. Let us laugh at the family, the law, (the ancient) [antiquated] form of resignation.
But this isn’t all: I want, since I have eyes, ears, and other senses (, more) than just (to drink) [the drinking], (to ea) [the eating], (to enjoy) the sexual love, (I want to experience joy) [to please/enjoy myself] in other forms. I want to see beautiful sculptures and painting, admire Rodin or Manet. I want to hear the best opera (companies) , [to] play Beethoven or Wagner. I want to know the (classics at the Comedie Française) [classics of comedy], page through the literary and artistic baggage (left) [passed on] by men of the past to men of the present, or even better, page through the now and forever unfinished oeuvre of humanity. I want joy for myself, for my chosen [female] companion, for my friends. I want a home where my eyes can agreeably rest when my work is done. For I want the joy of labour too, that healthy joy, that strong joy. I want my arms to handle the plane, the hammer, the spade and the scythe. (Let) [I want] the muscles [to] develop, the thoracic cage [to] become larger with powerful, useful and reasoned movements. I want to be useful, I want us to be useful. I want to be useful to my neighbour and (for) my neighbour to be useful to me. I desire that we labour much, for I am insatiable for joy. And it is because I want to enjoy myself that I am not resigned.
Yes, yes, I want to produce, but I want to enjoy (myself?); I want to knead the dough, but eat better bread; to work at the grape harvest, but drink better wine; build a house, but live in better apartments; make furniture, but possess the useful, (see) [and indeed even] the beautiful; I want to make theatres, but big enough to house (their me and mine) [my companions and myself]. I want to cooperate in producing, but I (also?) want to cooperate in consuming. [let ?] Some dream of producing for others to whom they will leave, oh the irony of it, the best of their efforts. As for me, I want, freely united with others, to produce but also to consume.
You resigned, look: I spit on your idols, I spit on God, [I spit on] the Fatherland, I spit on Christ, I spit on (the flag) [flags], I spit on capital and the golden calf (; I spit on laws and Codes, ????), [I spit ] on (the symbols of religion) [religions]; they are baubles, I (couldn’t care less about them) [discount/despise them] , I laugh at them... (Only through you do they mean anything to me) [Only by you do they exist // It is only because of you that they are something]; leave them behind and they’ll break into pieces. You are thus a force, you resigned, one of those forces that don’t know they are one, but who are nevertheless (a force) [forces], and I can’t spit on you, I can only hate you...or love you.
Above all my desire is [the desire] to see you shake off your resignation (and awaken from your terrible dream) [in a tremendous awakening of life]. There is no future paradise, there is no future; there is only the present.
[Let us live ourselves ! ?] Let us live! Resignation is death. Revolt is life.
Albert Libertad, in "L'anarchie", April 13th 1905.
- hocus
Re: Need help translating French text - A Libertad 1905
de alibertad05 le Ven 25 Juin 2010 11:04
Thanks so much for your help it is really helpful.
I am working on an illustrated version of the text using photographs that I have taken during the past 30 years. It is a long project but I will contact you when it is done and let you have a copy.
There is still one area that doesn't seem to make sense:
Vous êtes donc une force, ô résignés, de ces forces qui s’ignorent mais qui n’en sont pas moins des forces, et je ne peux pas cracher sur vous, je ne peux que vous haïr…ou vous aimer.
You are thus a force, you resigned, one of those forces that don’t know they are one, but who are nevertheless a force, and I can’t spit on you, I can only hate you...or love you.
Any ideas?
Thanks again!
Martin
I am working on an illustrated version of the text using photographs that I have taken during the past 30 years. It is a long project but I will contact you when it is done and let you have a copy.
There is still one area that doesn't seem to make sense:
Vous êtes donc une force, ô résignés, de ces forces qui s’ignorent mais qui n’en sont pas moins des forces, et je ne peux pas cracher sur vous, je ne peux que vous haïr…ou vous aimer.
You are thus a force, you resigned, one of those forces that don’t know they are one, but who are nevertheless a force, and I can’t spit on you, I can only hate you...or love you.
Any ideas?
Thanks again!
Martin
- alibertad05
- Messages: 5
- Inscription: Lun 21 Juin 2010 00:22
Re: Need help translating French text - A Libertad 1905
de hocus le Mer 13 Avr 2011 21:22
"You are thus a force, you resigned, one of those forces that don’t know they are one, but who are nevertheless a force, and I can’t spit on you, I can only hate you...or love you."
I don't know if that makes sense english, but in french, the meaning is quite clear. The resigned constitute a force, as oppressive institutions exists only thanks to and through them (and they could use their force in a better way), but they ignore that fact.
As for "I can't spit on you"... well, the idea is certainly that libertad wants the resigned to awaken, he thus can't spit on them, because they could be allies (this is only MY interpretation).
As for "I can only hate you... or love you" maybe the idea is that if they keep on being resigned, LIbertad can only hate them, but if they shake off their resignation, he might love them.
At least that's my interpretation of the french version.
I don't know if that makes sense english, but in french, the meaning is quite clear. The resigned constitute a force, as oppressive institutions exists only thanks to and through them (and they could use their force in a better way), but they ignore that fact.
As for "I can't spit on you"... well, the idea is certainly that libertad wants the resigned to awaken, he thus can't spit on them, because they could be allies (this is only MY interpretation).
As for "I can only hate you... or love you" maybe the idea is that if they keep on being resigned, LIbertad can only hate them, but if they shake off their resignation, he might love them.
At least that's my interpretation of the french version.
- hocus
Re: Need help translating French text - A Libertad 1905
de hocus le Mer 13 Avr 2011 21:39
desole pour le "remontage de sujet"; j ai pas fait expres.
c est un privilege des admins ce truc encore non ?
c est un privilege des admins ce truc encore non ?
- hocus
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