Chapter 3 of Translation from Galician to English of 11 poems by Rosalia de Castro

Source: Aula del 2º ciclo de Primaria del Colegio Valle Inclán de Ferrol

3. Flight To Wonderland (Fun un domingo, fun pola tarde)

(Cantares Gallegos, 1863)

Explanation

In the tome "Cantares Gallegos" De Castro often constructs a poem around a popular couplet or quatrain which is quoted in italics. In "Fun un domingo, fun pola tarde" she borrows the leading two lines of the folk song "Pousa" whose first quatrain reads,

Fun ó muíño do meu compadre;
Fun polo vento, vin polo aire.
É como cousa de encantamento;
Fun polo aire, vin polo vento.

I went to the mill of my child's godfather,¹
I went riding the wind, I came riding the air.
It's like a thing of enchantment,
I went riding the air, I came riding the wind.

¹ The modern version of "Pousa" puts "tavern" for "mill".

Translator's Notes

"Fun un domingo, fun pola tarde" makes extensive use of the affectionate diminutive form peculiar to the Galician language. The affectionate diminutive ends in iña (singular feminine) or iño (singular masculine) but not every word that ends in iña or iño is an affectionate diminutive.

All the words in "Fun un domingo, fun pola tarde" which end in iña or iño are listed below together with a range of possible translations and a short explanation of the choice that was made. Galician affectionate diminutives lend the translator an opportunity to add alliteration, internal rhyme and lyrical sharpness to the text. The objective is to find the best adjective, adverb or noun which conveys small size, frailty, concern or endearment depending on the context. This objective ends in a personal choice when more than one translation is available as is often the case. Sometimes an affectionate diminutive is best ignored because the context is unclear, because the extra term jars the smooth flow of the translation or because it makes the text too syrupy. The exercise can be fun, difficult and challenging. The extra work is worthwhile because it offers the English reader an approximation to what De Castro called "those tender words and those idioms never forgotten which sounded so sweet to my ears since the cradle and which were gathered up by my heart as its own heritage."

casiña. Dim. of "casa" (house) translated "precious...house." Other options: darling house, dear house, little house.
camiño (path, route, trail, way). Not a diminutive.
estreliñas. Dim. and pl. of "estrela" (star) translated "twinkling stars" to project affection surreptitiously through a subliminal recall of the much-loved nursery rhyme "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." Other options: little stars, pretty stars.
luniña. Dim. of "luna" (moon) translated "bright moon" because the night is brilliant (3.1). An earlier version, "small moon," is a better lexical translation but lacks realism, for when does the moon seem smaller than usual? Other options: silvery moon, smiling moon, warm moon.
meniñas. Pl. of meniña (girl, lass). Not an affectionate diminutive.
muíño (mill). Not a diminutive.
palomiñas. This turned out to be a very difficult word to translate. "Palomiñas" can be the dim. and pl. of "paloma" (dove, pigeon) but in some unspecified parts of Galicia the word "palomiña" can mean "butterfly" (not a diminutive). According to 1.4-5 the "palomiñas" are said to "beat their wings with an easy and gentle flutter" and this description suits a butterfly better than a pigeon. Therefore the optimal translation is "butterflies."
pombiñas. Dim. and pl. of "pomba" (dove, pigeon) translated "darling doves."
rapaciñas. Dim. and pl. of "rapaza" (girl, lass, teenage girl) translated "lassies."
sitiño. Dim. of "sitio" (place, spot) translated "charming place." Other options: adorable place, cuddly place (previous choice), enchanting nook, endearing spot, lovable site, lovely corner.

Folklore

The water mill (muíño) was a place of work and social relaxation and sometimes a venue of consented promiscuity after hours. A gathering of neighbours to grind grain was termed a muiñada. Most mills were built on a wooded river bank (example).

The muíño lent its name to the muiñeira or jig whose lyrics often abound in puns, irony, jokes, jests and jives, a reflection of the jovial atmosphere found at every water mill. For example the third stanza of the muiñeira do Santo Amaro states:

Ser solteiro é boa cousa
E ser casado tamén;
Deixarei pra cando morra
Pensar o que me convén.

Being single is a fine thing
And so is being married:
Which is the more convenient
I'll decide after I'm buried.

Fun un domingo, fun pola tarde,
co sol que baixa tras dos pinares,
cas nubes brancas sombra dos ánxeles,
cas palomiñas que as alas baten,
con un batido manso e suave,
atravesando vagos celaxes,
mundos extraños que en raios parten
ricos tesouros de ouro e diamante.

Pasín os montes, montes e valles,
pasín llanuras e soledades;
pasín os regos, pasín os mares,
con pés enxoitos e sin cansarme.

Colleume a noite, noite brillante,
cunha luniña feitas de xaspes,
e fun con ela camiño adiante,
cas estreliñas para guiarme,
que aquel camiño solo elas saben.

Dempois a aurora co seu sembrante
feito de rosas veu a alumbrarme,
e vin estonces, antre o ramaxe
de olmos e pinos, acobexarse
branca casiña con palomare,
donde as pombiñas entran e saien.

Nela se escoitan doces cantares,
nela garulan mozos galantes
cas rapaciñas de outros lugares.
Todo é contento, todo é folgare,
mentras a pedra bate que bate,
mole que mole, dálle que dálle,
con lindo gusto faille compases.

Non hai sitiño que máis me agrade
que aquel muíño dos castañares,
donde hai meniñas, donde hai rapaces,
que ricamente saben loitare;
donde rechinan hasta cansarse
mozos e vellos, nenos e grandes,
e anque non queren que aló me baixe,
sin que o soupera na casa naide,

fun ó muíño do meu compadre;
fun polo vento, vin polo aire.

I went on a Sunday, I went in the afternoon,
With the sun that goes down behind the stands of pine,
With the white clouds sunshade of the angels,
With the butterflies that beat their wings
With an easy and gentle flutter,
Traversing dim, dappled skies,
Alien worlds that part into beams
Rich treasures of gold and diamond.

I crossed the hills, hills and valleys,
I crossed plains and moors,
I crossed the rills, I crossed the seas,
With dry feet and untiring.

Nightfall caught up with me, a brilliant night
With a bright moon made of jasper,
And I went down the trail with her,
With the twinkling stars to guide me,
For they alone know that path.

Afterward the dawn with her semblance
Made of roses came to give me light,
And I saw then through the foliage
Of elms and pines, snuggled away,
Precious white house with pigeon loft
Where the darling doves enter and leave.

Sweet songs are heard within it,
Gallant lads revel inside it
With the lassies of roundabout places.
All is joy, all is leisure,
While the stone that slams and slams,
Grinds and grinds, knocks and knocks,
Plays rhythms to it with lovely taste.

There is no charming place that pleases me more
Than that water mill in the chestnut forest,
Where there are lasses, where there are lads
Who richly know how to spar;
Where grate until they tire
Young and old, children and grownups,
And although they don't want me to go down there,
Without anyone in the house being aware:

I went to the mill of my child's godfather,
I went riding the wind, I came riding the air.