frozen roses

Speaking another language can be challenging, even frustrating; when having to choose different ways to translate our thoughts, we sometimes lose meaning or preciseness. But sometimes it can create a sublime image, mixed between one story and its poetics, that the original thought would’ve never been able to offer.

Like the image of roses (‘Rosen’ in German) in a pond, and not water lilies (‘Seerosen’) that became seaweed after frost. What a beautiful image. Something so graceful and elegant frozen in water…

The beauty of thinking in different ways, the majesty of translating beyond an original thought, no more ‘lost in translation’ but better ‘glossed in translation’, a mistake leads to another word, another world, another space and time. A mistake leads to re-elaborate stories, transferring stories into fiction and fictions into roses.

The sublime and the unconsidered, the forgotten and the attended, the ugly and the elegant. Which is which? Why is that so? Aren’t they better when together, can we not approach them in all their splendour when they complete each other ? Can one be if the other wouldn’t ?