University of Virginia Library

Edna St. Vincent Millay's Afterthoughts on the Translation of Baudelaire
by
Joan St. Clair Crane

In 1936 Harper and Brothers published an edition of Charles Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du Mal translated by George Dillon and Edna St. Vincent Millay. It included the original French text and a long preface by Miss Millay.

A copy of the second edition of the book is in the Clifton Waller Barrett Library of the University of Virginia. This copy, originally in the possession of Edna St. Vincent Millay, was given by her to her close friend, Allan Ross Macdougall (editor of Letters of Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1952), with the inscription, 'To Alling from Edner'[1] on the recto of the blank flyleaf.

The Millay preface is an inspired essay on the art, theory, and practice of translating poetry which argues the translator's obligation to suggest the sound of the original poems by using their metre and form while

remaining true to the original in style, matter, and mood: a goal most elusive of achievement when translating from a language having scarcely any stressed accents on the syllables of its words into a language in which every word has a definite and fixed stress on one of its syllables.

Given the eccentricities of French and English, the translator who burdens himself with such a rigorously exacting method must frequently find that the final result falls short of the intention. The Barrett copy offers evidence that Millay was dissatisfied with certain parts of the translation—both of George Dillon's portion and her own.

The text in the Barrett copy is emended by twenty-four penciled notes in Millay's hand. Several of the alterations substantially change the sense of the translations. By making these changes Millay implies that, for the sake of a graceful line, she or Dillon had permitted themselves the liberty of adaptation which unnecessarily distorted Baudelaire's intention. She also seems to think that Dillon has failed to take advantage of some opportunities for literal translation, availing himself instead of a more 'poetic' interpretation or using words that sound well in English while misrepresenting the meaning of the original.

In the following collation, page and line references are to Flowers of Evil from the French of Charles Baudelaire (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1936; translated by George Dillon and Edna St. Vincent Millay). The original French text in italics is supplied first, followed by the printed translation and Millay's holograph alterations. Deleted words in the Millay holograph alterations are bracketed. Where the content requires, notes are appended to the entry. Initials of the translator of the individual poems are placed after the title in brackets.

Le Flacon — The Perfume Flask [E. St. V. M.], pp. 6-7

• 0 LE FLACON] THE PERFUME FLASK] THE SCENT BOTTLE

Le Jet d'Eau — The Fountain [G. D.], pp. 18-21

• 4 Ou t'a surprise le plaisir.] Where pleasure found thee] Where pleasure caught thee.
• 27-28 Tombe comme un pluie | De large pleurs.] Falling for ever, | are changèd to bright tears.] Fall like a rain | of heavy tears
• 30-36 Qu'il m'est doux, penché vers tes seins, | D'écouter la plainte éternelle | Qui sanglote dans les bassins! | Lune, eau sonore, nuit bénie, | Arbres qui frissonez autour, | Votre pure mélancolie | Est le miroir de mon amour] How sweet, my lips upon thy breast, | To hear within its marble urn | The water sobbing without rest. | O moon, loud water, lovely night, | O leaves where the soft winds upstart, | O wild and melancholy light, | Ye are the image of my heart.] How sweet to lean above thy breast | and hear within the marble urn | the water sobbing without rest. | O moon, loud water, blessed night | O leaves that quiver all above | O wild & melancholy light | You are the mirror of my love

Le Guigon — Ill-Starred [G. D.], pp. 48-49

• 7 Mon coeur, comme un tambour voilé] My heart, like an invisible drum,] My heart, like a crape-veiled drum,
• 12-14 Mainte fleur épanche à regret | Son parfum doux comme un secret | Dans

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  les solitudes profondes.] Many a flower has bloomed and spent | The secret of its passionate scent | Upon the wilderness profound.] Full many a flower is born to blush unseen | Wasting its sweetness on the desert air!
• Note: In this fourth stanza of the poem Millay identifies Baudelaire's plagiarism of Thomas Gray's Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard, though her recollection is faulty in one line, 'And waste its sweetness. . . .' Millay's preface contains a long note on this literary curiosity.

Bohemiens en Voyage — The Gypsies [G. D.], pp. 68-69

• 4 Le trésor toujours prêt des mamelles pendantes.] The teats of inexhaustible and swarthy breasts.] The teats of inexhaustible and drooping breasts.

L'invitation au Voyage — Invitation to the Voyage [E. St. V. M.], pp. 74-77

• 13-14 Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté, | Luxe, calme et volupté.] There, restraint and order bless | Luxury and voluptuousness.] There all is order, loveliness, | Luxury, peace, voluptuousness
• 29-34 Vois sur ces canaux | Dormir ces vaisseaux | Dont l'humeur est vagabonde; | C'est pour assouvir | Ton moindre désir | Qu'ils viennent du bout du monde.] See, their voyage past, | To their moorings fast, | On the still canals asleep, | These big ships; to bring | You some trifling thing | They have braved the furious deep.] See there on these streams | Deep-[freighted] laden down with dreams | An errant fleet has come to berth | [They bring you] With freight of fragrant balm | Your least desires to calm | They've come from the ends of the earth

L'Imprevu — The Unforeseen [E. St. V. M.], pp. 134-139

• 16 Etre veitueuv, dans une heure!"] I'm turning over a new leaf] [final 'v' of French text altered to 'x']
• 43 —Cependant, toute en haut de l'univers juché,] —Meantime, from his high perch above our earthly din,] —Meanwhile, from his high perch above our earthly din,
• 49-50 Le son de la trompette est si délicieux, | Dans ces soirs solennels de célestes vendanges,] So sweetly, so deliciously that music flows | Through the cool harvest evenings of these celestial days,] Delightfully the sounding trumpet music flows | Through the grave nights of heavenly harvest days

Le Balcon — The Balcony [G. D.], pp. 216-219

• 6,10 l'ardeur . . . l'ardeur] hushed . . . hushed] hot . . . hot
• 16-30 La nuit s'épaississait ainsi qu'une cloison,
  Et mes yeux dans le noir devinaient tes prunelles
  Et je buvais ton souffle, ô douceur, ô poison!
  Et tes pieds s'endormaient dans mes mains fraternelles
  La nuit s'épaississait ainsi qu'une cloison.
  

  Je sais l'art d'évoquer les minutes heureuses,
  Et revis mon passé blotti dans tes genoux.
  Car à quoi bon chercher tes beautés langoureuses
  Ailleurs qu'en ton cher corps et qu'en ton coeur si doux?
  Je sais l'art d'évoquer les minutes heureuses!
  

  Ces serments, ces parfums, ces baisers infinis,
  Renaîtront-ils d'un gouffre interdit à nos sondes,
  Comme montent au ciel les soleils rajeunis
  Après s'être lavés au fond des mers profondes?
  —O serments! ô parfums! ô baisers infinis!]
  

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  The night would close around us like a dim blue wall,
  And your eyes flashed within the darkness, and the sweet
  Drug of your breath came over me. Do you recall
  How I would love to lie for hours holding your feet?
  The night would close around us like a dim blue wall.
  

  I can relive the ecstasy that Time has slain;
  At moments I can feel myself between your thighs.
  What use to hope for anything like that again
  With someone else? What use to seek in any wise?
  I can relive the ecstasy that Time has slain.
  

  Those cries, those long embraces, that remembered scent:
  Can they be lost for ever? Will they not come round
  Like stars, like suns, to blaze upon the firmament
  Of future worlds, from the abyss we cannot sound?
  —O cries! O long embraces! O remembered scent!]
  

  The darkness of the night descended like a wall
  My eyes within the murk sought out your own
  And I drank in your breath, oh sweetness oh pall
  And in my friendly hands I held your sleeping feet
  [The darkness of the night descended like a wall][2]
  

  I know the art of evoking happy times
  Recalling moments passed against your knees
  What boots it to seek out your languid lines
  Elsewhere than in your own dear form your gentle heart
  I know the art of evoking happy times!
  

  These pledges scents these kisses infinite
  Shall they well up from soundless depths
  As [rises up] mounts the new born sun to heaven's height
  From out the bath of oceans-deeps?
  These pledges, scents, these kisses infinite
  
• Note: an earlier reworking of l. 30 was: 'Oh pledges, perfumes, kisses infinite!'. Millay also underlined and queried the word 'thighs' in l. 22.

Le Voyage — Travel [E. St. V. M.], pp. 230-245

• 1 Pour l'enfant, amoureux de cartes et d'estampes,] The child, in love with globes and maps of foreign parts,] The child, in love with prints of foreign parts
• 5 Un matin nous partons, le cerveau plein de flamme,] Some morning we start out; we have a grudge, we itch] Some morning we start out; our brain afire
• 8 Berçant notre infini sur le fini des mers:] Cradling our infinite upon the finite sea:] Rocking our infinite upon the finite sea
• 143-150 O Mort, vieux capitaine, il est temps! levons l'ancre!
  Ce pays nous ennuie, ô Mort! Appareillons!
  Si le ciel et la mer sont noirs comme de l'encre,
  Nos coeurs que tu connais sont remplis de rayons!]
  

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  Oh, Death, old captain, hoist the anchor! Come, cast off!
  We've seen this country, Death! We're sick of it! Let's go!
  The sky is black; black is the curling crest, the trough
  Of the deep wave; yet crowd the sail on, even so!]
  

  Oh, Death, old captain, hoist the anchor! Come, cast off!
  This country tires us, Death! We're sick of it! Let's go!
  The sky is black; inky the curling crest, the trough
  Yet is the heart you know still shining bright
  
• Note: Millay has overscored both the printed version and her holograph alterations in this stanza and the one following, indicating that she was dissatisfied with both.

Notes