The only wrong way to interpret a poem. And what it taught me about translation.

Sometimes the places where translation and interpretation intersect are where controversy shows up to make things even more interesting

Welcome back to The Life of H: Sarah, Reimagined.

And a special welcome to the many new subscribers who have joined in the past two months! I’m glad you’re here!

For those who are new here, or for anyone who wants to catch up on my current project, in which I’m translating Sarah, Hagar, and Abraham’s story from biblical Hebrew into a 21st Century feminist poet’s English, you might want to get started by checking out this post. Plus this one. And maybe this, too. Or just dive in and start reading here. Each post is part of a series, but they can each stand on their own, too.

This week I’ll share my latest attempt at translation. We’ve now come to the part of the story where Sarah, in her elder years, miraculously gives birth to Isaac. In these verses, the child is nursed, named, weaned, circumcised, and celebrated. That’s a lot for seven brief verses — but there’s more:

I hit a snag when I came upon a teeny, tiny preposition that was bothering me. And the decision I made when translating that word, shifted what is regarded as the birth-story of a patriarchal line, into a recounting of the creation of a Matriarch’s lineage! Which might be (more than) a little bit controversial.

So, this week I’ll share some thoughts on translation, interpretation, and what happens when all that leads into contested territory. Then, as a bonus to paid subscribers I’ll read aloud from my latest poetic translation.

Why do I put these translations behind a paywall? Because I hope one day to publish this work, and if I share it now with all 2,000+ of you, my cherished subscribers, it will be considered ‘previously published’ and will thus have a harder time finding its way into the wider world. PLUS: What I’m doing here is difficult, time consuming (and joyful!) work. So by subscribing you help to support this project.

Before we dig in, here are opportunities for you to honor your dreams and your stories in the New Year.

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“There is no wrong way to interpret a poem.”

Or at least that’s what I have always told my students, whether we were reading Shakespearean sonnets or contemporary language poets, and whether I was standing in front of a class of college students, a group of teen moms studying for their high school equivalency exam, or poets and writers in one of my Dreaming on the Page writing workshops.

But there’s one important caveat to that blanket statement of permission:

Lest we wander too far off course, I frequently remind my students (and myself) that we have to keep grounding our interpretations in the words as they are written on the page. We can make leaps, as long as we take off from, and land back upon, what we find in the text.

We also need to consider who wrote the piece, what their intention was, and the time in which it was written.

As a poet translating Sarah’s story as it is recorded in Genesis, I have set the same guidelines for myself: I grant myself some poetic license, but I also check myself time and again, asking: Am I translating? Or am I imposing my own interpretation onto an ancient story?

It doesn’t have to be either or. As the rabbi who teaches the Biblical Hebrew class that I am taking often reminds us,

“Translation is interpretation.”

Clearly my choices have led me to different conclusions than past translators, and my translation surely has its flaws. (I’m learning as I go, after all!) But one of my favorite aspects of the Jewish tradition is that we are encouraged, each individual and in each generation, to translate the Torah and interpret it for ourselves.

We’re welcomed into the centuries-long conversation where informed disagreement is respected and a well-thought out argument is an invitation to explore more deeply together.

In the words of Ben Bag Bag, a first century Jewish teacher:

“Turn the Torah, and turn it again, for everything you want to know is found within it.” (Avot 5:25)

And here is the pay-off! As I plod ahead word by word — I’m experiencing Sarah’s story in a whole new—and revelatory way. I”m discovering the Matriarch’s story in the patriarchal narrative. In this chapter I am asking myself:

What does it mean if we question whether the central point of the story is that Isaac was born to Abraham — or is it as important or more so that he was born for (and of course by) Sarah.

Something else to ponder: Was Hagar cast out or was she also lifted up?

I’ll address the first question in my translation and notes below. Next week’s translation will reintroduce Hagar in a way that will shed new light on the second one!