LIETUVIŲ KALBOS SANDAROS TYRINĖJIMAI

LIETUVIŲ KALBOTYROS KLAUSIMAI, XXVI (1987)

VANDA BARANAUSKAITĖ

J. BALČIKONIS – TRANSLATOR OF A. MICKEVIČIUS’S “GRAŽINA”

In the first issue of “Mūsų kalba” in 1974, A. Žirgulys published an article entitled “Remembering J. Balčikonis,” in which he recounts how, in 1966, Prof. J. Balčikonis had wanted to publish his translation of A. Mickevičius’s “Gražina.” Out of modesty, the professor did not admit that he himself had translated “Gražina”; instead, he told A. Žirgulys, who was then working at a publishing house in Kaunas, a story about a small-time Kėdainiai nobleman who had asked the professor to correct the language of a translation. Unfortunately, the translator had died, so publishing this translation would fulfill the nobleman’s wish. Yet this translation never saw the light of day: two translations of “Gražina” (by V. Sirijos-Gira and Just. Marcinkevičius) had already appeared, and “Vaga” did not want to publish a third.

The publishing house’s staff found the language of the translation distinctly Balčikonian, but trusted the professor’s account, assuming that he had changed the language in this way while refining the translation. Had it not been for the testimony of linguist A. Lyberis, a relative of the professor, who said he had seen the manuscript of the “Gražina” translation, we would never have known that the professor had translated “Gražina.”

That the professor loved poetry and was capable of translating it is also confirmed by this fact: in his youth, J. Balčikonis wrote and translated poems. They were published in “Viltis” and “Lietuvos ūkininkas.” “At the time they were quite popular. For instance, Mikas Petrauskas composed music to Balčikonis’s poem “We too have suffered and perished…,” while “The Prisoner” became very popular, turning into a folk song and later harmonized by J. Švedas; the poems “The Times Will Come,” written down as works of folklore, and the translation of “The Little Bird” by the Russian poet A. Pleščėjev were also popular. Prof. B. Pranskus thought highly of Balčikonis’s revolutionary poetry, placing it alongside the poetry of Jovaras¹. J. Balčikonis signed his poems with a variety of pseudonyms: Trimittas, Sparnaitis, Bijūnėlis. He translated “Gražina” under the pen name Silvestras Rimgaija.”

Balčikonis the translator treats many things in his own distinctive way. The introduction to J. Balčikonis’s “Selected Writings” notes that he published a wealth of valuable studies in Lithuanian onomastics and wrote on the Lithuanization of surnames. The professor’s individual approach is also evident in his translation of the poem’s names. He changes the name of the poem’s main character from Gražina to Gražine; the name of Prince Liutaura is changed to Liutvdru; the place-name Naugardukas becomes Naugardu; the country’s name changes from Vokietija to Vokia; and možūrai are called mazovais.

¹ Pupkis A., Mažiulis V. Juozas Balčikonis. – Kn.: J. Balčikonis. Rinktiniai raštai. V., 1978, t. 1, p. 11.

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When reading J. Balčikonis’s translation of “Gražinė,” we are immediately struck by its rich vocabulary. Instead of commonplace words, dulled by frequent and widespread use, the linguist chooses more vivid synonyms. The language of J. Balčikonis’s “Gražinė” is popular and lively. The translator does not shy away from colloquial words. He makes abundant use of dialect words and forms, for example: “if you followed that tale (story) attentively,” “at last he decided to do otherwise” (decided), “and to turn (change) that word, the dear one had enough” (it was enough), “they make Liutvara their prince” (appoint), “we must not linger here” (waste time), “let us raise the man quickly once more” (quickly), “standing side by side, they pelt the common enemy” (strike), “the weather is poor (not much), some kind of wind,” “they soon drove the weary ones back” (chased away), “some kind of stubbornness (obstinacy) might have come over him,” “it is unbecoming for us to quarrel among ourselves,” “her face grows hot, she is terribly flustered” (agitated), “remember what was commanded; be prepared” (ready), and so on.

“Gražinė” also contains quite a few archaisms, which are very useful: they lend the narrative a sense of mystery, as if transporting us to ancient times. For example: “she resolves to go to the lady (duchess) at the door.” The word kunigė is used in the writings of M. Mažvydas and in K. Sirvydas’s dictionary. “They managed to drive out the Kryžeiviai (Teutonic Knights’ envoys),” where the word kryžeiviai is found in the works of A. and J. Juška and S. Daukantas, while siuntiniai occurs in S. Slavočinskis’s hymnbook and K. Sirvydas’s dictionary. Other archaisms used by J. Balčikonis are also found in old writings: “what do I hear, my lord (ruler)?,” “that is the kunigas (prince),” “settled farther away, somewhere among the homesteads (villages),” “and the falcon is the hunter’s true glory,” “that is a motė (woman), though she is girded with a man’s weapons.”

The translation also features one or two rare words—such as gardas, used by J. Basanavičius and V. Pietaris but never adopted into common usage: “to some he gives a gardas (city), gives land.” The linguist’s own word arioti also catches the eye, used with a new meaning: “here we are going to plow the Polish land” (lay waste).

Words from various lexical groups used in the translation have considerable aesthetic potential. In terms of cultural tradition, the archaic medėjas is not semantically the same as medžiotojas (hunter); kunigas cannot replace kunigaikštis (prince), nor kiemas (homestead) kaimas (village). Dialect words and archaisms create historical color. Almost all dialect words are expressive colloquialisms, but their poetic transformation is not always successful: they do not suit a romantic poem and evoke different associations. For example: “she is terribly flustered” (agitated), “but the difference intended for your men is essential.”

Let us now try to review a longer passage from the translation. Let us compare J. Balčikonis’s translation with the work of other translators. What distinguishes J. Balčikonis’s translation?

Let us take as an example the description of daybreak:

Night has fled, and Dawn spreads her rosy tresses across the eastern cloud.

In J. Balčikonis’s translation, the gleaming hair of dawn and its personification disappear; the translator conveys the thought in simple, popular language, the way a village person might speak of the breaking dawn:

Though it is still night, one side of the sky is already red With the reflections of dawn in the east…

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The meaning of the original is conveyed, though not through an identical image and without allusions to classical literature (for the Romantics, classical literature was an ideal). The syntax of the translation has also been changed. The translator lengthens the first sentence by adding the second half of the second sentence; the repeated “already” disappears, but this does not detract from the meaning of the translation: the sentence flows smoothly, though it lacks a poetic vein.

Just. Marcinkevičius divides the original’s first sentence into two, thereby preserving the dynamics and sound of the original language, but also changes the artistic image:

The dreadful night has passed. Soon it will dawn; in the East, the sky is as if poured with purple.

V. Sirijos-Gira’s translation is reminiscent of a folk song. In the translation, “the dawn star” and “the cloud” become diminutives, and the artistic image is not preserved. The syntax is also changed, but, as in the previous translations, the meaning is conveyed.

J. Žilius–Jonila translates these lines literally:

Day is dawning already, the dawn maidens’ braids already, White light spreads across their sky…

The translator accurately conveys the original’s artistic image and preserves its personification and allusions to classical literature (recall Homer’s rosy-fingered Dawn in the “Odyssey”), but the translation lacks musicality and resembles prose. J. Žilius-Jonila changes the original’s syntax: the original paragraph of two sentences becomes one sentence, but this does not alter the meaning; the repeated “already” is preserved.

One more example. It depicts a mysterious view of Naugardukas Castle at night, describing each detail minutely:

Over the turf banks and beneath the blue sand, a brown shadow is cast by a gigantic pillar, falling into the moat, where among the everlasting narrow channels the water panted beneath green mold.

The original syntax is preserved in none of the translations: word order is changed, and the sentences are joined in a way that is not faithful to the original.

In J. Balčikonis’s translation, information appears that is absent from the original (implicit information); we merely sense that it is there:

The towers cast long shadows into the distance. Around them, a deep moat lies black; its calm surface is covered with weeds, yet no unexpected guest will cross it.

The translation is vivid and conveys the meaning, although the artistic image is not entirely accurate. The original’s impression of color disappears: “bluish sand,” “green mold.” Yet “weeds” itself conveys a color impression and sounds much more natural than “green mold.” The translation uses tropes: the synecdoche “the towers cast shadows” and the anthropomorphism “the towers cast.” These artistic devices enliven the translation.

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V. Sirijos-Gira translated these lines almost word for word:

The castle’s shadow, like a pillar, lay Upon the bluish sand, the rampart; deep Into the moat it fell, where in the damp shade Water breathed among green molds.

Here, as in the original, the personification “water breathed” and the impression of color are retained, but the translation sounds lifeless; the sentence lacks vitality and spills across the line breaks.

P. Arminas-Trupinėlis’s translation:

On the yellowish sands and castle ramparts The shadows lay like giants, As though part of them were thrust into the moat, Where old water and mold rot.

Alongside one “character” from the original (water), the translation introduces a second, fashioned from a locative phrase (mold). It is not the sound of “old water” that jars, but the versification. Bearing in mind that this is the very first translation of “Gražina,” we should not be too critical.

Just. Marcinkevičius’s translation, though graceful and melodious, distorts the meaning of the original:

Rising up along the grassy rampart, The great shadows crawl over the sand. Weary, they fall into the ancient moat, Where fresh water gurgles among the grass.

A completely new artistic image is created. Admittedly, it is romantic, as befits a romantic poem, but the author of this poem sought to convey not the serene mood of gurgling water, but to show the mysterious and eerie stillness of the night, which the sound of water would only disturb. Moreover, water cannot gurgle in the moat that encircles the castle, much less be fresh.

Comparing the translations with the original and with one another would reveal many interesting things, but that would require a more extensive study. It may be mentioned that Balčikonis was not the only one to change the name Gražina. P. Arminas-Trupinėlis rendered Gražina as Gražioji. Jonila sought to make the poem as Lithuanian as possible: Naugardukas became Naujapile, and Liutauras became Liūtudaru. V. Sirijos-Gira translated pasiuntinius as legatais, while J. Balčikonis used siuntiniais. For Balčikonis, the Teutonic Order resembles a “many-headed serpent”; for Gira, a “hydra”; and for Marcinkevičius, a “dragon.”

Even from this brief comparison of translations, we can draw some conclusions. The translations by J. Žilius-Jonila and P. Arminas-Trupinėlis seek the greatest possible visual accuracy, sometimes forgetting to consider whether the language of the translations is flexible and easy to read. V. Sirijos-Gira’s translation is not always artistically precise, and in places it attempts a word-for-word rendering, but the poet’s talent does much to compensate. Just. Marcinkevičius is concerned above all with preserving the original’s color, mood, and rhythm. J. Balčikonis deliberately archaizes the translation, presenting the images of the original as they would be familiar to a Lithuanian

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to the worldview. A tendency toward colloquializing the language is perceptible. He renders the syllabic eleven-syllable line in pentameter iambs, the closest equivalent to syllabic versification. J. Balčikonis’s work is one of the finest examples of philological translation: an exact mode of translation is followed almost everywhere, explanations of idiomatic expressions are provided, and the sentences flow smoothly, though without poetic impetus.

The professor revised his translation of “Gražina” many times, searching for more vivid and lively phrasing. He replaced nominal constructions with expressive devices more characteristic of folk speech and refined the rhymes. He strove to express things as vividly and tangibly as possible, even though this altered the poetics of the original in some places. Here are a few examples:

He does not sleep—his intimates knew it, But the palace folk and castle guards, The honorable men from the council itself, Feared to knock upon their ruler’s door.

He revised these lines as follows:

His own folk knew that he did not sleep, Though now a matter of such importance arose, One that they could not settle without their leader, Yet they feared to knock upon their leader’s door.

The word saviškiai (“his own folk”) is more concrete than artimus (“intimates”), while replacing valdovo (“ruler”) with vadu (“leader”) highlights the importance of the poem’s action, when everyone was waiting for Liutauras to be not merely a ruler but also a war leader. Lines 2 and 3 have been completely changed. They become more informative, the shifting of the thought disappears, and the language is livelier: an expanded simple sentence is replaced with a complex sentence containing two levels of subordination.

When translating the lines

In council, his word is wisest of all; On the battlefield, he is bravest of all,

the translator probably sought to avoid monotony of language, and so replaced the rhyming superlative adjectives with entirely different words.

In council he always gives sound judgment; In battle his weapon carries the day.

Furthermore, the personification “his weapon carries the day” is more vivid and more folklike.

They will say you wished to plunder wealth, And had to attack another’s land.

He revised these lines as follows:

They will say that others’ wealth tempted him, Greedy, he seized the road and attacked.

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The revision is enlivened by the vivid verb craved, the change from the second person to the third, since the intention is to convey others’ view of the ruler rather than to address him directly. The character’s designation, greedy one, adds an emotional nuance. A more inventive rhyme.

Lines

The Teutonic Knights build splendid fortresses here; At the sight of them, fear already shakes the Prussians.

revised twice:

The Teutonic Knights’ splendid fortresses are built; The Prussians suffer many hardships because of them.

ir

The Teutonic Knights’ splendid castles in Prussian lands, From there they lie in wait to enslave our country.

This was probably done for the sake of rhyme. In the second and third revisions, the personification of the first translation is lost, but “building splendidly” is avoided. “Splendid castles” in the third translation sounds more convincing than “splendid fortresses.”

In A. Žirgulis’s words, “this is not the work of a professional poet, but of a language specialist. Although he felt an inclination toward poetry, throughout his life he hammered out and polished the language of prose, engaging with the development of poetic language only occasionally. Brief contacts could not provide him with as many resources of poetic language as are available to people for whom the art of poetry is their principal profession…”²

J. BALČIKONIS — TRANSLATOR OF A. MICKEVIČIUS’S “GRAŽINA”

Summary

The article introduces J. Balčikonis as a translator of poetry. It discusses J. Balčikonis’s translation of A. Mickevičius’s poem “Gražina”.

In J. Balčikonis’s translation, many linguistic phenomena are interpreted in their own way, and words from different lexical strata are used.

J. Balčikonis’s translation is compared with other Lithuanian translations of “Gražina” (by J. Žilius-Jonila, P. Arminas-Trutnigelis, V. Sirijos-Gira, and Just. Marcinkevičius). Attention is also drawn to the revisions to the translation made by J. Balčikonis himself in order to achieve the greatest possible naturalness of language.

² Žirgulys A. Literatūros keliuose. — V., 1976, p. 105.