I have always enjoyed the art of translation, especially when the language I am trying to decipher is perplexing intellectual poetry. Searching for that Doppelgänger of the two languages – Vietnamese & English – is like hunting for that childhood friend you’d lost during the exodus of growing up — you no longer remember the details of her face, but you can positively feel she is the right one when the intimacy is within detection range. When that perfect word, which can carry both languages on its back and in its heart, waves its hand at you out of nowhere, there is no better rapport. And then there are two of it, inseparable mirror images with dual atypical personalities born out of the same etymological womb. Joyful cry follows every birth, as it seems.
What is your most joyful moment of the translation gestation? Share with me, or my eager Doppelgänger.
