Krossvatn

Over the past few weeks, when time allowed or when a break called for relaxing at the table, I would open up Lockwood's Modern Faroese and slowly translate Heðin Bru's 'Krossvatn'. For a short story of just three pages, I have only managed to work through about a quarter of it. But I'm not translating in such a way to quickly progress through the language. If I was, I'm clearly doing it the wrong way.

As I mentioned in a previous post, translating works like this is a very slow process. Learning a language in this way is similar to the Cambridge Latin Course, which immerses the student in readings and incorporates grammar as they progress through translating the works. The method de-emphasizes memorizing rules of grammar and syntax. Similar to older instruction, the method is used by people who prefer to jump into reading classics in their original language rather than wade through memorizing charts and tables of cases and out-of-context phrases. 'Modern Faroese' is very good at providing the necessary tools to begin a work in this way, but does not provide specific grammar references as you work through a reading, as the Cambridge Latin Course provides.  The grammar and syntax come slowly, but can be referenced in the previous sections, just as words are looked up in dictionaries. To be honest, I have learned more about grammar in these few weeks than I have in all my years in school.

The following is my translation of the first paragraph of Krossvatn. The translation is often very literal and some was easy to come by (see the first line) but plenty had to be made sense of, and these sections undergo constant revision. Some sections were very difficult and I had to make some assumptions about the meanings of what appear to be idiomatic phrases (see the italicized phrase below). Quite a few idioms are thankfully provided in Lockwood's glossary, however. If anyone has corrections or suggestions, I would be very grateful to hear them.

 - - -

Cross-lake is not really a lake, it is a pond in a bog, and nothing else. A river runs in and another out,—but Cross-lake becomes its calling and the story sings in older times that it was once a lake; but then they drained the water from it*. The river which runs out is a deep and straight ditch, so it was likely guided by the hand of man—yes, and so the water was drained, but it is almost like something in that wretched pond, after which having a certain nature, has the collection of all life in the old lake itself.  And why shall it not have the given name? You should be obliged not to laugh in scorn or mock, as you walk past you say, "Call that a lake, a mere hole!" No, let it have the name, it bears it with honour. 

"What life is here?"

"Don't ask, look, it is before our time. Now is a new year, don't bother about it—something stirs alive here all the same." 

- - -

Krossvatn er einki rættiligt vatn, tað er ein hylur í einum mórudiki, ikki er annað. Ein áin rennur í og onnur úr. -- Men Krossvatn verður tað rópt, og søgan sigur, at í eldri tíð var tað eitt vatn; men so veittu teir tað av. Áin, ið rennur frá, er eisini ein djúp grøv og jøvn so tað er líkt til, at har hevur mannahon verið.—Ja, og so er vatnið runnið burtur; men tað er mest, sum tann, neyðar hylurin, ið eftir er vorðin, hevur savnað alt lívið í tí gamla vatninum í seg. Og hví skal hann so ikki hava tað gamla navnið? Tú skalt ikki læa upp á háð, tú kemur framvið, og siga: "Hatta eita vatn, eitt glupsi!" Nei, lat hann hava navnið, hann ber tað við lit.

"Hvat lív er har?"

"Spyr ikki, hygg, tað er fyri hvønn mann. Nú er nýggjár, legg einki í tað, har bragdar kortini."


 *Thanks to Bart for this correction.