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What is unforgiveable, however, is to completely change the tone of the poet's voice when translating his or her work. A perfect example lies in the poem "Caballos," or "Horses" on pages 180-183. Throughout the poem, Neruda expresses his wonder at ten beautiful horses, describing them as "godlike" and "elegant." Belitt does a decent job of relating these feelings until the 25th line. Neruda writes "cortadas en la piedra de su orgullo," which Belitt translates as "carved in the stone of their arrogance." If I were to tell you that the word "orgullo" can be translated as "pride" or "arrogance," which would you choose for a poem that genuinely praises something? To throw a word with negative connotations in with such carelessness is evident of how Belitt pays little attention to the feeling and emotion behind Neruda's poems. This example is not meant to be nit-picking. Rather, it is just one of many oversights that subtly changes the meanings of the poetry.
Mistakes like these do cause English-only speakers to be turned off to Neruda's poetry. Please look to another translation, in particular one that has been rated highly BY THE READERS. The praise for this book, if you read the back cover, is actually for Pablo Neruda's poetry. No one will deny that Neruda was a master, it is the translator that is lacking.
I am not particularly a fan of poetry, but Mr. Neruda's transcendent and passionate work has always held a special place in my heart. I discovered Mr. Neruda's poems in the original Spanish some time ago, but I bought this edition more recently because I feared that the last few years in Italy had eroded by Spanish skills to the point that I'd benefit from having my native English to refer to for help. Instead, the translations left me appalled.
Anyone reading Mr. Neruda's poems for the first time with this book could only assume that this great poet was a mediocre talent trying to impress beyond his abilities. The rhythm is gone, the intelligence is altered, and the word choice sometimes sounds as if it was produced by one of those annoying Internet translation programs. At points, I was seriously left wondering if Mr. Belitt is even a native English speaker.
It's a terrible shame, too, because it's so nice to have both languages in the same edition. And while I am strongly critical of Mr. Belitt's translations, I cannot at all fault his selection of poems: all of the Neruda poems I like best are here, whether they are well known or obscure.
As I am about to file this review, I see that all but a couple of my fellow reviewers came to the same conclusion I did. Take our advice, please! Seek out another, better translation of Mr. Neruda's work. I'm not sure which to suggest, but rest assured that you could hardly find an inferior one.
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