Joshua Hren has aptly addressed the concerns regarding the use of the word pleasure, some of which I will share here. Rhina Espaillat is, of course, a highly regarded poet and for good reason. As a poet she knows that one of the most important responsibilities of the poet is to refine and reclaim the language, especially in age like ours, one with many afflictions, including narrowness and presentism - the idea that contemporary definitions of a word are all that matter or that we can make words, which are rich and dense and have long family trees, mean only one thing.
Ryan Wilson says that a poet should know the etymology of all the words he uses in a poem.
Rhina would never use a word like 'pleasure' without knowing its etymologies.
A New Pronouncing Dictionary of the Spanish and English Languages: Regalar: agasajar; indulge, lavish attention on, pamper.
Diccionario español de sinónimos y antónimos: Regalar-se: recrear-se, deleitar-se, diverter-se, alegrar-se
Breve diccionario etimológico de la langua castellana: Regalar: agasajar, divertir, festejar
Diccionario de la lengua castellana de la academia Española: Regalar: agasajar, acariciar, recrear, deleitar. Regalo: Gusto o complacencia que se recibe en cualquier linea; Latin luxus, mollicies
Tesoro de la lengua castellana o Española, de la real academia Española: Regalo: Trato real, tener las delicias que los reyes pueden tener. Latin rex. Regalado: el que se trata con curiosidad y con gusto, especialmente en su comida.
The “gift” meaning of the words “regalar” and “regalo” and “regalarse” come from the root of “regale,” which means to give pleasure, delight, and joy, among other things. In Spanish, “regalarse” means 1) to give oneself with joy; 2) to find joy in the giving; 3) to find joy in the receiving of love from the beloved, which is the ultimate pleasure because it is mutual.
In English, the etymology and roots of the word pleasure also offer interesting and important insight into understanding Rhina's choices and why they work so well. You can find those here.
The etymology of the word pleasure includes "will", which is exactly right in this case. "his pleasure (his will) was my guide."
The phrase "I serve at the king's pleasure" is a good example of what Rhina is doing with this word choice - with the nuance of a poet who knows the meanings of words, she is able to convey both the pleasure experienced when in union with God AND the underlying necessity which makes that union possible - that is, that it is only in His will (his pleasure) that we find happiness (or pleasure).
Galdo, who knows both Spanish and English, praises Espaillat's achievements but courageously (in the face of Espaillat's adulation by many highly respectable poets), also appropriately, points out some theologically false notes Galdo found in this poem.
GalI writes, "In both of the instances where Espaillat chooses to insert 'pleasure' into a line where it was not originally present, her translation departs from Spanish lines that lean toward the deeper meaning of sexual union, toward the delicacy and gentleness of the lovers’ courtship, toward the language of self-gift spoken by the body. . . . As the poem moves from Spanish into this English, there’s something new lingering in the Espaillat translation that seems to move a bit away from what St. John of the Cross’ original words imply."
I cringe at the way the translation uses the word pleasure for the giving of the soul when the union between the lover and the beloved is a total self-giving between the two, and the word pleasure (perhaps inadvertently but definitely and inappropriately) reduces the joy of total union with God in the poem to the physical level.
About another false note, Galdo writes this, "John of the Cross’ todo me voy consumiendo is rendered by Espaillat 'to be consumed out of being.' Most other translators take the meaning of consumir to be that of a consuming flame. (Campbell translates the line 'entirely I am burned away,' and Nims 'I burn, I burn away.')
"The other translations gesture towards the refiner’s fire; towards a flame that perfects, destroying sin, but not the sinner."
As Galdo noted, the union with God is far different from self-obliteration. I want to add that instead we become more fully the individual personality ennobled with love as God made us to be.
I encountered St. John of the Cross in my college Spanish lit courses -- I do wish I'd kept up my Spanish since then, but I've lost most of the vocabulary by now (and I never did a good grasp on the grammar of the Spanish verb, sorry to say). I loved his work, and I'm glad to find such an excellent translation of it. His description of "the dark night of the soul" especially resonates with my experience of depression and offered hope at a time I desperately needed it.
Joshua Hren has aptly addressed the concerns regarding the use of the word pleasure, some of which I will share here. Rhina Espaillat is, of course, a highly regarded poet and for good reason. As a poet she knows that one of the most important responsibilities of the poet is to refine and reclaim the language, especially in age like ours, one with many afflictions, including narrowness and presentism - the idea that contemporary definitions of a word are all that matter or that we can make words, which are rich and dense and have long family trees, mean only one thing.
Ryan Wilson says that a poet should know the etymology of all the words he uses in a poem.
Rhina would never use a word like 'pleasure' without knowing its etymologies.
Here are some of the Spanish etymologies:
Larousse: Regalo: pleasure, gratification. Regalar: acariciar.
A New Pronouncing Dictionary of the Spanish and English Languages: Regalar: agasajar; indulge, lavish attention on, pamper.
Diccionario español de sinónimos y antónimos: Regalar-se: recrear-se, deleitar-se, diverter-se, alegrar-se
Breve diccionario etimológico de la langua castellana: Regalar: agasajar, divertir, festejar
Diccionario de la lengua castellana de la academia Española: Regalar: agasajar, acariciar, recrear, deleitar. Regalo: Gusto o complacencia que se recibe en cualquier linea; Latin luxus, mollicies
Tesoro de la lengua castellana o Española, de la real academia Española: Regalo: Trato real, tener las delicias que los reyes pueden tener. Latin rex. Regalado: el que se trata con curiosidad y con gusto, especialmente en su comida.
The “gift” meaning of the words “regalar” and “regalo” and “regalarse” come from the root of “regale,” which means to give pleasure, delight, and joy, among other things. In Spanish, “regalarse” means 1) to give oneself with joy; 2) to find joy in the giving; 3) to find joy in the receiving of love from the beloved, which is the ultimate pleasure because it is mutual.
In English, the etymology and roots of the word pleasure also offer interesting and important insight into understanding Rhina's choices and why they work so well. You can find those here.
https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=pleasure
The etymology of the word pleasure includes "will", which is exactly right in this case. "his pleasure (his will) was my guide."
The phrase "I serve at the king's pleasure" is a good example of what Rhina is doing with this word choice - with the nuance of a poet who knows the meanings of words, she is able to convey both the pleasure experienced when in union with God AND the underlying necessity which makes that union possible - that is, that it is only in His will (his pleasure) that we find happiness (or pleasure).
Thanks for today's poem by Rhina Espaillat.
Did you see this review from Dappled Things of Espaillat's The Spring that Feeds the Torrent" by Carla Galdo posted today?
https://www.dappledthings.org/reviews/review-the-spring-that-feeds-the-torrent
Galdo, who knows both Spanish and English, praises Espaillat's achievements but courageously (in the face of Espaillat's adulation by many highly respectable poets), also appropriately, points out some theologically false notes Galdo found in this poem.
GalI writes, "In both of the instances where Espaillat chooses to insert 'pleasure' into a line where it was not originally present, her translation departs from Spanish lines that lean toward the deeper meaning of sexual union, toward the delicacy and gentleness of the lovers’ courtship, toward the language of self-gift spoken by the body. . . . As the poem moves from Spanish into this English, there’s something new lingering in the Espaillat translation that seems to move a bit away from what St. John of the Cross’ original words imply."
I cringe at the way the translation uses the word pleasure for the giving of the soul when the union between the lover and the beloved is a total self-giving between the two, and the word pleasure (perhaps inadvertently but definitely and inappropriately) reduces the joy of total union with God in the poem to the physical level.
About another false note, Galdo writes this, "John of the Cross’ todo me voy consumiendo is rendered by Espaillat 'to be consumed out of being.' Most other translators take the meaning of consumir to be that of a consuming flame. (Campbell translates the line 'entirely I am burned away,' and Nims 'I burn, I burn away.')
"The other translations gesture towards the refiner’s fire; towards a flame that perfects, destroying sin, but not the sinner."
As Galdo noted, the union with God is far different from self-obliteration. I want to add that instead we become more fully the individual personality ennobled with love as God made us to be.
Donne? Anyone? John Donne?
Whether for or from, the Love of God knows no bounds.
I encountered St. John of the Cross in my college Spanish lit courses -- I do wish I'd kept up my Spanish since then, but I've lost most of the vocabulary by now (and I never did a good grasp on the grammar of the Spanish verb, sorry to say). I loved his work, and I'm glad to find such an excellent translation of it. His description of "the dark night of the soul" especially resonates with my experience of depression and offered hope at a time I desperately needed it.