Someone asked me recently what happens inside of me when I work on written translations. I share here my response.
Murmurations on the Page
When I read through the original
for the first time, it begins.
A glorious murmuration of
language alive, alive
with flight and pitch,
tone, resonance, and meaning.
If I let go just enough, I
can feel the movements,
feel the life being spun.
And I begin to listen through
the shape emerging;
sorting the sounds and meanings I hear.
I write and listen and wait
up until and through
the last sound that is missing,
the note which makes the new breathe alone.
I wait until ah…
the harmony, the awe, of two flocks of words.
Kimberly M. King, rscj
Consider the Lilies 