One fine morning I woke up with the brilliant idea of penning down a poetic work of epic proportions, the canvas as grand as that of Paradise Lost of John Milton a la
"Of Man's first disobedience...
...Sing, Heavenly Muse....
...I thence
Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song."
...Sing, Heavenly Muse....
...I thence
Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song."
No small a canvas, why compromise?
I was glad that I froze the magnitude of my Magnum Opus. Then it hit me, the archenemy of writers - the Writers' Block. What do I write about? My pen doesn't move nor do my fingers punch the keys. My epic canvas stood there, with my exalted and magniloquent aim splashed all across, mocking at me.
Milton had his Muse, so did many others and so does Hussain in Madhuri Dixit. But, where is my Muse to inspire me, when I am all set to storm the world with my epic? I raked up my brains to finalise my topic. Nothing was forthcoming. Yet, I wasn't discouraged. The high spirits in which I started the day, though was dying a slow death, egged the poet in me.
I was glad that I froze the magnitude of my Magnum Opus. Then it hit me, the archenemy of writers - the Writers' Block. What do I write about? My pen doesn't move nor do my fingers punch the keys. My epic canvas stood there, with my exalted and magniloquent aim splashed all across, mocking at me.
Milton had his Muse, so did many others and so does Hussain in Madhuri Dixit. But, where is my Muse to inspire me, when I am all set to storm the world with my epic? I raked up my brains to finalise my topic. Nothing was forthcoming. Yet, I wasn't discouraged. The high spirits in which I started the day, though was dying a slow death, egged the poet in me.
"Awake, arise, or be forever fallen!"
Yet, not a weak idea at least struck. Nought it was.
Then, another brilliant idea struck me. Why not the great epic itself? I may be lacking the talent of that great poet, I at least, have the ability to translate.
".... What though the field be lost?
All is not lost - the Unconquerable will,
. . . . . . . . .
And courage never to submit or yield."
All is not lost - the Unconquerable will,
. . . . . . . . .
And courage never to submit or yield."
Yes, all is not lost. Why not become the deliverer of the innocent Telugu reader? Why don't I try my hand at translating the epic into Telugu. It is, as far as I know, and as Milton spoke to his Muse:
"...unattempted yet in prose or rhyme...
Say first - for Heaven hides nothing from thy view,
Nor the deep tract of Hell - say first what cause..."
Say first - for Heaven hides nothing from thy view,
Nor the deep tract of Hell - say first what cause..."
Yes, it is a 'grand enterprise', as grand as the original. I patted my back for being so brilliant.
But, when the great translators of yore like Veeresalingam Pantulu have not attempted to translate Paradise Lost, how could I? Pat came the reply. It is hard, nigh impossible for me. To start with, how am I to translate the vivid description of Satan's legions? Of Moloch, Thammuz, Dagon, Rimmons or Belial? And what about Pandemonium, Tumult, Chaos, Demogorgon and such other personifications.
I then said to myself:
"this enterprise, not shall I partake."
Come to think of it, a plethora of dictionaries abound the worldwide web, just to understand the geographical locations referred by the poet; then there are umpteen references to legends and characters, allusions and many forms of figures of speech.
How can I mere mortal dare to attempt such an enterprise?
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