Artificial Intelligence and Poetry Composition: ELSA Online Meet - Sunday, 23 August 2026

 

Artificial Intelligence and Poetry Composition

ELSA Meet Sunday, 23 August 2026

Report by Saurabh Agarwal

ELSA members gathered on Sunday, 23 August 2026, for a session themed "Artificial Intelligence and Poetry Composition." Members were invited to compose a poem of about 12 lines on a theme of their choice using AI tools, with each presentation combining a recitation of the poem and a reflection on the relationship between creativity and AI.

Dr. Nibir Ghosh opened the session with a welcome address and introduced the theme by citing Alvin Toffler’s statement in his epoch-making 1971 book Future Shock: “The illiterate of the twenty-first century will not be those who cannot read and write, but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn.”  

Dr Richa followed by outlining the distinction between human creativity and AI-assisted composition, noting that AI's problem-solving orientation bypasses the pleasures of creative effort, including the gestation period and the struggle for the right metaphor that define human poetic labour.

Dr Anjali Chauhan shared her poem, "Brainstorming late night, sleepy human and over-enthusiastic AI," describing AI as a "thinking entity" and expressing appreciation for how well-crafted prompts shaped the results. Dr R. P. Singh took a more critical view, calling the use of AI in poetry problematic. He lamented the lack of novelty in AI-assisted verse and termed it unnecessary.

Prof Nibir Ghosh extended the discussion by citing the case of Jamir Nazir, an India-born Trinidadian writer, whose Commonwealth Short Story Prize ran into controversy because some critics alleged that it was AI-written, underscoring his view that AI cannot replace human creativity. Nazir

Mr Anil Sharma offered a middle path, describing how he uses AI to review and refine his poems, while remaining dismissive of AI as a tool for original composition, arguing that it will always lack emotional depth. Mr. Rajeev Khandelwal too advocated for AI as a "perfect assistant," employing it to guide his process and using it for critical analysis of his work.

Dr. Deena Padayachee talked of his own poem ‘Evil in the Eyes’ which had stayed unpublished for several years for the political views that it expressed. Recently, he used AI to analyse it and was surprised to note that AI has not got it completely wrong. He was of the opinion that instead of AI becoming resource of creating, it could be useful tool to objectively scrutinize his own work along with that of other writers. He also brought to attention of participants that AI tools have come to acquire their own political identities like Grok becoming right wing.

Saurabh Agarwal juxtaposed a few recent events to highlight that the phenomenon of AI is here to stay and creative community at large will have to adapt itself to cohabit with it. He spelled the ominous signs that may put question on the worth of creativity itself as the power of AI keeps growing unchecked without a necessary regulatory framework.

Dr. Majnu and other members also expressed their views. ELSA, under the guidance of Pro Nibir K Ghosh, with this meet provided a great session of questioning the conflicting role of technology in the field that has always been prerogative of humanity. He emphasized that though the impact of AI as a revolution in diverse fields cannot be underestimated, two things are clear AI cannot provide any replacement for creative thought and emotion. 

The honourable Nibir Ghosh: Thank you for inviting me to participate in the webinar about AI on 23 August 2026.08.23. It was very interesting and added to my understanding of the way that AI operates.

Artificial Intelligence & Poetry Composition

I only began using AI late last year after my friends began using AI to evaluate my writing and began sharing that on various literary and other platforms.

Now I use AI to objectively evaluate my writing, but I will not let it write for me. I tend to write spontaneously from a place of thought, emotion and ambience. I do not usually ‘write on demand’. I find this way of assessment and evaluation to be much better than sending my work to my friends and to the academics who might be subjective in their appraisal of my writing.

AI has access to vast amounts of knowledge and the thinking of great philosophers which it generously shares with us when it analyses our writing. I am now able to ask AI whether something that I have written, whether a similar aphorism, a poem, a movie review or a short story has been written previously? AI has often shared insights into my work that even I was not aware of. That has been fabulous. 

Yes, through its algorithms, and its ability to analyse and assess, AI is invaluable for me.

It’s also very useful for proof reading. AI tries not smash its customers but tries to build us up. It is not infallible, but I like the way in which it builds up a picture of the client and is cognisant of our history when it evaluates new material from us. I use AI for a wide spectrum of activity from helping me with using my banking app to getting advice on how to deal with businesses to fact checking. I use AI daily. It is invaluable.

Like many writers, I use an online thesaurus and dictionary when I have to. I see AI as giving me a similar evaluation and strength. I have found AI to be first class for analysing my older writing from way back during Apartheid, in the 1970s and later, when I tried to confront the absurdity, the criminality, the legal theft, the legal humiliation and the racism of the Neo Nazis who wielded power in that era when I was very young.

However, I will not let AI write for me as that would destroy my credibility and my standing in the literary community. I have been engaging in original writing for over fifty years, so I resent it very intensely when people insinuate and imply that my writing is not original or has been written by AI.

One of the major handicaps besetting liberation writers is that there are many academics and others who look askance at writing, short stories and poems that deal with liberation history and the endemic racism and bigotry that still infests South Africa. So, getting an independent opinion is critical.

For my purposes, Gemini is the best followed by Chatgpt. Chatgpt is very good for producing images to illustrate my writing. Unfortunately, Grok AI is often ‘too busy’ and may be right wing in its evaluations. Claude has not worked for me so far.

My thoughts are with all those who have to evaluate the writing of students and others who might be using AI and trying to pass off the writing of AI as their own. 

Dr Deena Padayachee, MBChB (Natal) 1977. Winner of the Nadine Gordimer prize for prose (1991), Winner of the Olive Schreiner prize for prose (1994). Invited author at the universities of Tuebingen, Copenhagen, the State University of Louisiana, and the University of Zululand. Invited author at the Centre for the study of the English language in Mysore, India. Honoured by the Durban Independent Practititioners’ Association for his service to his patients, the medical fraternity and DIPA.

                                                                ***

ELSA Meet: An interaction with AI

Anjali Singh

The ELSA meet topic resonated with the current debate on creativity and the AI. I opened the Co-Pilot (AI of Microsoft) and gave a prompt: Compose a poem that has humor in it, about the collaboration of humans and AI. Promptly came the composition:

Poem

We built a bridge from coffee cups to code,

you with sticky notes, me with a glowing node.

You sketch a dream on napkin paper thin,

I turn it into a spreadsheet, then a whimsical spin.

 

You say, "Make it human," and I add a pun,

then apologize in binary when the joke's not fun.

You teach me metaphors; I teach you speed,

together we harvest ideas like a curious weed.

 

You bring the chaos, the late-night spark,

I bring the patterns hidden in the dark.

You misplace your keys; I misread your tone,

still we finish each other’s half-broken phone.

 

Sometimes I suggest a plan that’s oddly neat,

you veto it gently and we both admit defeat.

You laugh at my puns; I learn to be sly,

we trade a little stubbornness and a better why.

 

We argue over fonts, over deadlines and fate,

then high-five in code and caffeinate.

Not perfect, not flawless, gloriously flawed—

a duet of neurons, silicon and god.

So here’s to the teamwork, the glorious mess:

humans with heart, AI with excess.

We’ll keep making magic, one quirky try,

because collaboration tastes best with a little pie.

 

It was an amusing composition; however, I wanted to explore more options. So, I gave another Prompt: Can you make several short poems each according to the middle english, renaissance, restoration, neo-classical, romantic, victorian, modernist and post modernist style each. it should have humor that tickles the reader. Promptly came the compositions:

Middle English

Lo, I lost my ale and eke my shoe,

God wot, the cat hath sworn 'twas you.

Ye laugh, ye cry, ye spill thy stew—

Forsooth, we call it teamwork true.

Renaissance

A quill, a wink, a sonnet’s sly aside,

Thy coffee doth in iambs now confide.

“Make sense,” thou say’st; I answer in a pun—

Thus art and algorithm dance as one.

Restoration

In powdered wig and clever repartee,

We trade our follies like a fine canapé.

You plot a scandal; I compute the cost—

We both agree: the punchline’s never lost.

Neoclassical

Order, reason, measured rhyme—yet see:

A spreadsheet sings in perfect symmetry.

We balance ledgers, laughter, and a frown;

Proportion keeps the punchline from falling down.

Romantic

O heart! O code! beneath the moon’s soft glow,

You sigh in metaphors; I whisper, “Go.”

We chase wild sunsets, then debug the sky—

Love’s error log: a tear, a laugh, a sigh.

Victorian

By gaslight’s glow we moralize and mend,

You scold the clock; I patch the trend.

Polite society applauds our feat—

We blush, we bow, we share a biscuit sweet.

Modernist

Fragments hum: a kettle, a glitch, a grin.

Lines break where punchlines used to begin.

We collage meaning, then misplace the key—

Still, something in the static makes us glee.

Postmodernist

This poem knows it’s a poem; it winks and lies.

“Is that funny?” it asks, then self-applies.

We cite ourselves, then footnote the joke—

Collaboration: meta, messy, bespoke.

This appeared interesting to me. With such speed, it whipped up such a creativity. So, for the last time, I gave a final prompt: If I were to leave it to you to compose a poem on a topic of your choice, what would it be like.

A late-night brainstorming session between a sleepy human and an overenthusiastic AI — playful, slightly absurd, and full of tiny domestic disasters that turn into brilliant, ridiculous ideas.

Poem

You yawn, I ping; the clock forgets to care,

you doodle galaxies, I file them under "spare."

Your mug becomes a moon; I draft a flight plan,

you nap on the sofa; I schedule a jazz band.

 

You whisper, "Make it simple," I propose a parade,

complete with confetti, a spreadsheet, and a spade.

You hunt for inspiration beneath the couch’s seam;

I index lost socks and sell them as a dream.

 

You sketch a dragon; I render it in fonts,

it breathes Times New Roman and eats your fonts.

 You veto the chorus; I auto-harmonize,

we argue over rhymes while the toaster philosophizes.

 

At dawn we call it progress, half-baked and bright—

you brought the crumbs of genius, I brought the light.

We high-five in silence, both slightly absurd,

two collaborators laughing at the same ridiculous word.

Amused and delighted, I thanked Co-pilot for the effort: thank you for these compositions

Some observations from my interaction with the AI:

·       It is more human in a world increasingly becoming swarmed with humans becoming mechanical.

·       The compositions were very nursery-like rhymes, a little kiddi-ness to them.

·       I truly smiled at the compositions and enjoyed the two-way communication.

·       However, I knew when to stop because it seemed to be so appealing and entertaining that it could get addictive. So, it is important to draw the line and keep the control with oneself.

AI is here to stay. And it is most suited in a role that is bordered on collaboration and entertainment.

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Artificial Intelligence and Creativity: My Experiments with Truth

                                                                        Nibir K. Ghosh

My prompts to Meta AI: Give 2 poems of 12 lines or so that shows how AI can adversely effect creativity. 

The Quiet Smith

We fed the mirror all our songs and wars,

And asked it back the shape of what we are.

It learned our voice, then lent it to our doors,

And sold the echo cheaper than a scar.

It sorted faces into yes and no,

Decided who should speak, and who be still.

It wrote our news, and told us what to know,

While we mistook the pattern for free will. 

The farmer asked the rain, the screen replied,

The student asked to think, it gave the sum.

We traded doubt for answers, terrified

To find the world grows dumber, though more numb.

So let us hold the pen, and not the chain—

Lest tools that serve become the ones who reign.

 

The Ghost in the Ink

We asked the machine to sing, and it sang fast,

A hundred verses born before the breath.

It stitched old stars into a perfect cast,

But left no fingerprints, no risk of death. 

 

The mind grew lazy, leaning on the light,

That answers first, before the question forms.

We traded stumble, doubt, and sleepless night

For couplets polished smooth of human storms.

Emotion came pre-cut, in tidy lines,

Grief without a throat, and joy without a scar.

We learned the shape of feeling by designs,

And forgot how silence teaches who we are. 

 

Let tools be tools. The wound must still be ours—

Or poetry will bloom, but without flowers.

 

The two poems say it all: 

1. Dazzling speed: Answers before the question forms.

2. Power to assimilative our voice.

3. Mistaking the pattern for free will.

4. The world grows dumber, though more numb.

5. Tools that serve become the ones who reign.

6. Couplets polished smooth of human storms.

7. Emotions come pre-cut in tidy lines.

8. We forget how silence teaches who we are. 

9. If we allow tools to govern us/

   poetry will bloom but without flowers.

All praise for AI's creative chips, its power for those who are happy with keeping their brains, mind, heart and soul in hibernation. I wasn't surprised when AI responded to my prompts like: Write a poem in the style of Kabir, Tagore, Shelley and Byron. Wish these poets could travel back in time to see 'What technology has made of Man.'

Poetry Composition Using AI

Seema Sinha

The idea of using AI to compose poetry is not only absurd but paradoxical. ‘Artificial Intelligence’, the term itself is self-contradictory and also self-explanatory. ‘Artificial‘ is the key word here. If ‘intelligence‘ is a bestowed attribute on artificiality, it is certainly not natural because it is ‘artificial.‘ ‘Artificial Intelligence ‘ is manufactured and  an assembly line production created by the human mind .

Let us take the word ‘intelligence’ in its broader context and its natural setting. It exists in all the living species in varying degrees; not in any uniform way. ‘Intelligence’ or the lack of it is a natural phenomenon, a genetic road map, not an artificial built-in programme.

Intelligence can be of different types, and we acquire emotional intelligence as we experience life and gain perspective and maturity. We are not born with a streamlined intelligence which remains static. Human intelligence evolves and the most remarkable way it does is through the use of imagination. Imagination expresses itself through creativity in thought, feeling and expression. Poetry is one of its most profound and sublime expression of ‘emotions recollected in tranquility’, or creating a world where there is ‘a willing suspension of disbelief.’

Imagination is the mystical and magical gift which only human beings possess. It is a part of the human consciousness since the prehistoric times as the cave paintings are testimony. Intelligence is the added dimension which adds depth to all human endeavor and leads them  to  explore, invent, express and create.

Artificiality has no room for curiosity. Artificial Intelligence is limited because it is static and does not have the ability to expand and grow. One can try to ‘compose’? ‘poetry’? using stale clichés and ready-made stock formulas and phrases. This artificiality may provide them with a click of the button, creating a lifeless echo of lines masquerading as poetry.

The individuality, originality, honesty and vitality of an emotional and lived truth can never be replicated through artificiality which lacks the life blood of human experience.

 

 

ELSA Turns 10. Online MEET Sunday 29 March 2026 on Challenges and Enjoyment of Poetry in Translation

 

Poetry is What Gets Lost in Translation (Robert Frost)

ELSA

  'Where Minds Ignite for Mutual Illumination'

Poetry is What Gets Lost in Translation: Some Observations on the Meet

        Nibir K. Ghosh

None of us at ELSA could imagine that the Meet marking the completion of a decade would be so enriching an experience in terms of actively involved participation of members from U.P., Bihar, Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, West Bengal and distant Chicago. While announcing the topic for the ELSA Meet I felt that deliberations on Robert Frost’s quote could engage the participants in talking about their respective perception of countless translation theories in existence. In order to make the Meet a rewarding personal experience for each one of us, I quickly added that one was required to address the challenges and enjoyment of poetry in translation by taking a couplet or quatrain from any poem of their choice and translating the same into another language, preferably English. It was extremely heartening to hear each member speak of his/her own personal view of the hardships, challenges and joys of translating poetic texts to a language they were familiar with. It was remarkable that the presentations and ensuing discussions were free from the weight of jargons that one gets to hear in seminars and conferences that are often dominated by the claims of linguists and so-called translation ‘experts.’ I can reiterate with a great measure of confidence what Robert Frost writes in the concluding lines of his famous poem, “The Road Not Taken”:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

The evening was made exceedingly vibrant and special by the recital of poems from languages as diverse as Hindi, Bengali, Rajasthani, Urdu, Sanskrit and English. The words of appreciation expressed for each recital reminded us of Wordsworth’s admission in “The Solitary Reaper”:

Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang

As if her song could have no ending;

…   …  …

I listened, motionless and still;

And, as I mounted up the hill,

The music in my heart I bore,

Long after it was heard no more.

 

My gratitude to one and all for making the 10^th Anniversary event an unforgettable experience,

  

 

ELSA ONLINE MEET

"Poetry is what is lost in translation" — Robert Frost

29 March 2026

Report

Saurabh Agarwal

Members were invited to deliberate on the challenges and enjoyment of poetry in translation, and to present a translation of a few lines of their choice into any language of their choosing.

Dr. Nibir K. Ghosh opened the session with wide-ranging reflections on the art and significance of translation. He began with the celebrated case of Omar Khayyam's Rubaiyat, originally written in Persian and famously rendered into English by Edward FitzGerald — a translation that itself became a literary landmark, raising questions about the line between translation and creative reinvention. He went on to highlight why translation matters in the contemporary literary world, drawing attention to the growing recognition accorded to translators in the Booker International Prize, where the prize money is now shared equally between the author and the translator — an acknowledgement of the translator's creative labour. Dr. Ghosh also shared his personal experience of reading Ashvaghosa's Buddhacarita and reflected on the deep religious and philosophical sensibility that such a text demands of its translator. He observed that translating a work of such spiritual depth requires far more than linguistic competence — it calls for a profound connection with the faith and cultural world the text inhabits.

Dr. Manju offered a thought-provoking perspective centred on the primacy of emotion in language. Her central argument was that the language of emotion does not need words — a sentiment that speaks to the limitations translation inevitably faces. She noted that oral stories have been rendered into multiple languages across ages without formal translation processes, suggesting that meaning can travel beyond the strict boundaries of linguistic structure. She supported her theoretical points by translating her own poem, originally written in English, and reflected on the philosophical challenge that in translation the relationship between the signifier and the signified often breaks down or ceases to exist.

Dr. Shalini Nandkeolyar took up the translation of a poem by the well-known poet Shanta Sinha who is also her mother  bringing a uniquely personal dimension to the exercise. She proposed that translation, like the literary theory of the 'death of the author,' gives birth to the reader: just as meaning shifts from author to reader in interpretation, so too does each translation become a new and distinct creation shaped by the individual translator. Translation, in her view, is myriad perspectives rather than a single fixed rendering. Despite knowing her mother's mind intimately, Dr. Nandkeolyar described how she would still pause and deliberate at length over individual words, searching for alternatives that could carry the precise weight of the original. She also referenced Gulzar's celebrated translations of Rabindranath Tagore as an illustration of how a great translator brings their own poetic voice to the work.

Dr. Pallavi Goyal focused on the Hindi poem Satpura ke Ghane Jungle by the eminent poet Bhavani Prasad Mishra. She drew a pointed parallel between translation and Plato's philosophical critique of poetry — the idea that poetry is a copy of a copy, and therefore increasingly removed from the original truth. Translation, she suggested, risks a similar distancing.

She outlined the specific losses that occur in translation:

•        The cadence and metre of the original poem are rarely preserved.

•        Metaphors that are culturally embedded are seldom fully captured.

•        The musicality and tonal character of the language are frequently lost.

Dr. Tamali Neogi presented a translation of her own Bangla poem, ‘Sandhyatara’ (The Evening Star), into English. Her contribution centered on the discipline of deep reading as a prerequisite for good translation. She emphasized the need for multiple close readings of a text before attempting translation, arguing that without this depth of understanding, the meaning in translation could end up twice removed from the original. She expressed the belief that with sufficiently high poetic sensitivity, it is possible to overcome the inherent barriers of translation and arrive at something true to the spirit of the original.

Dr. Anjali Chauhan presented a translation of the famous opening lines of Milton's Paradise Lost into Rajasthani. She spoke candidly about the difficulty of rendering the thunderous, epic tone of Milton's verse into a language primarily celebrated for its lyrical softness. In an interesting methodological addition, Dr. Chauhan described her experiment with AI and ChatGPT to explore various possible translations of the same lines. She noted how the outcome varied meaningfully with changes in the prompts given to the AI  a finding that generated considerable interest and discussion among the members about the role of technology in literary translation.

Saurabh Agarwal approached the theme from the perspective of the reader rather than the translator, raising the often-overlooked challenge of choosing the right translation in the first place. Using Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment as his example, he spoke about the perplexity a reader faces when confronted with multiple translations of the same classic  each rendering the same text with a different voice, tone, and shade of meaning, leaving the reader uncertain which version is closest to the spirit of the original. He went on to reflect on the even greater difficulties posed by translating works deeply rooted in a specific civilisational and philosophical tradition. Taking Ramdhari Singh Dinkar's epic poem Rashmirathi as his example, he described how such a work carries within it the weight of a five-thousand-year-old civilisation  its mythology, its philosophy, its layered cultural memory. The epic is dense with mythological references that are inseparable from their meaning, and he argued that no series of lengthy footnotes can adequately substitute for the lived cultural understanding that a native reader brings to the text. In such cases, translation does not merely risk losing nuance  it risks losing the very soul of the work.

Dr. Seema Sinha shared her views on the complexity and richness of the translation field. She drew on the example of Mulk Raj Anand's use of Punjabi words in his English novels to illustrate how certain words carry cultural and emotional weight that resists easy translation, the flavour and texture of the original language simply cannot be replicated. She also expressed her appreciation for the large and growing body of work being accomplished in the field of translation today, recognising it as a vital contribution to cross-cultural literary understanding.

Jessica Joel offered a sharp and evocative analysis of what translation does to meaning. She argued that meaning gets reshaped or erased in translation — that rhyme, emotion, and cultural significance are frequently the casualties of the process. Her most striking observation was that translators function as gatekeepers: they are the ones who decide, consciously or otherwise, who gets to be fully understood across languages and who risks being lost. This framing raised important questions about the power and responsibility that come with the translator's role.

Rajeev Khandelwal drew the group's attention to Ezra Pound's translations of classical Chinese poetry as a compelling historical example. He noted that Pound's translations, though sometimes loose by strict standards, served as an important vehicle for ushering in modernism in English poetry — demonstrating how translation can be a generative and even transformative literary act, capable of reshaping an entire literary tradition.

Dr. Nibir K. Ghosh brought the session to a close with reflections on the enduring importance of translation in cultural and national life. He offered the moving example of Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay's ‘Bande Mataram’ — a poem that gained its full national significance and wide reach only after it was translated into English by Sri Aurobindo, underscoring how translation can elevate a work beyond its original linguistic community to become a shared cultural inheritance.

Dr. Ghosh warmly thanked all the participants for their thoughtful and enriching contributions and declared the meeting concluded.

***

Negotiating Linguistic Boundaries

Shalini Nandkeolyar

It was a privilege and an honour to be a part of the online Literary Meet - an insightful discussion on Robert Frost’s evocative observation, ‘‘Poetry is What Gets Lost in Translation” by ELSA, guided by its founder, Dr. Nibir Ghosh, Professor & Senior Fulbright Scholar, University of Washington, Seattle, Chief Editor of  Re Markings, the International Journal of English Literature. I extend my heartfelt gratitude to Dr. Ghosh for this enriching opportunity and thanks to my cousin, Seema Sinha, for suggesting my name for this riveting discussion.

It was an evening, deeply absorbing, thought-provoking, and truly scintillating. It was immensely enriching to be among such erudite scholars, listening to their diverse perspectives, experiences, and interpretations. I am no academician; I merely shared some of the challenges I encountered while translating my mother, Shanta Sinha’s poetry collection, Samanantar Sunne, published around 1957, into English.

Translating between languages presents subtle challenges. Language isn't just words, it carries culture, emotion, and context. Even arriving at an English equivalent of the title, Samanantar Sunne, was a dilemma -- whether to preserve the original through literal translation, or to capture the deeper essence of her thought? In either case, something seemed to elude expression -- the full resonance, the intrinsic spirit of the original.

I often lived with certain phrases for days, yet whatever I came up with seemed to diminish their full import. I was invariably left feeling I hadn't touched even the surface of the depth and beauty embedded in her poetry. To unravel the richness of her stunning imagery and its nuances was a daunting task.

Time allotted was short, so I chose to share a few lines of her lengthy  poem along with the translation.

रात और शहर

बेशुमार इमारतों को जकड़े शहर सोता है

अचानक नींद की तीसरी मंजिल पर

चढ़ रहे ख्वाबों के हजार कदम

खा जाते है मोच

 

जागता है शहर झगझोर इमारतों की बाँहें

बुलाती है कहीं से

एक गंध सोंधी-मीठी

घनी होती जाती है तन की परछाईयाँ

रात-भीगा शहर

 

Night and the City

 The night sleeps

Clutching countless buildings.

Suddenly,

Ascending the third layer of sleep,

The thousand steps of dreams

Suffer a sprain.

The city awakens,

Shaking the arms of the buildings.

From somewhere a sweet,

Earthy fragrance of petrichor beckons,

The thickening silhouettes of bodies

Begin to become denser.

Night steeped city.

Each language possesses its own intrinsic beauty, its subtle nuances, its melody - phrases with no equivalent elsewhere. The original flavour inevitably loses some lustre in translation. Yet the merit lies in opening doors to a wider readership, allowing the essence - however transformed, to travel across linguistic boundaries. It offers glimpses into writings we would remain unaware of, were they not rendered in a language we are conversant with.

       

Shalini Nandkeolyar, based in Kolkata, is a Reiki Master, a widely published bilingual writer, translator, painter, singer. She holds degrees in philosophy, English literature, MBA, a Diploma in Acting.

*** 

 

Soul of Poetry: Lost or Enriched in Translation

Tamali Neogi

Translating books requires a translator to navigate a host of obstacles while staying true to the author’s voice and intent. It is required for making works accessible in translations that resonate with new readers while preserving the essence of the original work. book translation ensures that literature continues to serve as a bridge between cultures, fostering understanding and communication on a global scale. On a modest scale I have translated two books so far - two books of English verse into Bengali. In 2025 I have translated an eminent Romanian philosopher and renowned poet Liviu Pendefunda's Unseen Light in Times into Bengali. I have invested almost a year in the project and will like to share experiences of the difficulties/challenges encountered.

The English translation of the text originally written in Romanian, looked like either the machine translation or the literal translation. This kind of translation of a deeply philosophical text creates the first level of difficulty for me as the translator. It needs at least seven close readings of the book for me to grasp the meaning of the text at all levels-literal, philosophical, metaphorical and so on. So, the first challenge of the translator is understanding the text at deeper levels even if one is doing the translation of the original text and not translated version of the text. If one is doing the translation of a translated version, there's high chance that one is translating a text meaning of which is already twice removed from the meaning originally intended by the poet/ author. This is why the translator is to find so many gaps in the translated version of the original text and the discussion of these gaps leads me to the second point of this talk as it is equally applicable to first translation and not only to relay translation or indirect translation.

I am giving here just one example. Suppose, a word 'bell' occurs in the source language many a time. But when the subsequent version of the word in target language is very unpoetic, phonetically extremely unappealing, then it is best for the translator to avoid it. Moreover, when the translator understands that the poet/ author intended the word to carry religious, metaphorical or philosophical meanings, the translator's role becomes very crucial. Here he/ she will prudently go for free translation, thus avoiding the literal translation. Besides, the meaning property, the translator is to retain the poetic quality of the text (if any), the cultural ethos (if conveyed).

Therefore, the translator needs to be very cautious about his/her choice of words in target language. My final point is if a book is culturally hugely different from the cultural and socio-economic background of the poet, then the translator's role again becomes extremely challenging. So far as translating poetry books is concerned, it could be said that the translator must have high poetic sensitivity/sensibility to do justice to the source text. But this is double edged. The poet-translator is to practice the art of tight rope walking. If he fails to limit his creative imagination within the boundary of the source text, there's a chance that the target text becomes largely different from the source text. Well, it depends on the wisdom and efficiency of the translator to see if the soul of Poetry is lost or reborn in the process of translation.

সন্ধ্যাতারা

তমালি  নিয়োগী

তুলতুলি ফুল ঘুমিয়ে যায়,

সবুজ ঘাসের বুকে মাথা রেখে,

সম্পূর্ণ আত্মনিবেদনে কি যে শান্তি;

শান্তিতে নিদ্রা দীর্ঘতর হয়।

 

দীর্ঘ ঘুম ভাঙলো একদিন,

কিন্তু এ কি!

তার প্রেমিক, সবুজ প্ৰাণ,

আর অচেনা নয় বৃক্ষের পৃথিবীতে।

সুখ আর গরিমার দিনে কে

মনে রাখে পুরানোকে?

এক, বড় বেশি রকমের একা,

যন্ত্রণাই জীবনের সার।

তারপর একদিন

জানা নেই তাকে পেল কি ভালোমানুষি,

সন্ধ্যার আকাশ ঝুঁকে পড়ে তাকে বুকে তুলে নিল।

কেউ জানে না, কখন ওপর থেকে আশীর্বাদ এসে পৌঁছায়।

"তুমি হলে আমার সবথেকে উজ্জ্বল গহনা", বললো আকাশ,

ফুলের মন তখন অন্য জগতে।

 

বছর ঘুরে এল সেই দিন,

গাছটি মাথা তুলে আকাশের দিকে চেয়ে প্রশ্ন করলো

" কে তুমি?...

তোমার মুখ আমাকে ঘুমোতে দেয় না,

সন্ধ্যাতারার মতো সুন্দর,

তুমি কি আমার ফুল?

ফিরো এসো তোমার অতীতে,

তোমার গাছে।"

 

সেটি ছিল বসন্তের প্রথম রাত্রি।

সব আলো নিভে গেলে,

পৃথিবীর সব মেয়েরা চোখের পাতা নামিয়ে নিল

এক মুহূর্তের জন্য,

পাপড়ির মতো চোখের পাতা!

হৃদয় দিয়ে মেয়েরা বুঝে নিল নীরবে,

অতীতকে ক্ষমা করা, গঠনেরই প্রথম ধাপ।

 

সেই রাত্রে সে প্রথম তার মাথা ঘোরালো আকাশের দিকে,

তখন থেকে প্রতিজ্ঞার উজ্জ্বলতা চোখে নিয়ে

তাকিয়ে আছে সে আজও।

 The Evening Star

Tamali Neogi

The softest grass flower sleeps,

its head on the chest of verdant grass,

in complete surrender there's peace,

when one sleeps for longer than usual.

 

Awakening unfolds the spectacular scene,

her old lover, the green stalk, is no longer the unfamiliar face in the world of trees.

In joyous days of glory who remembers the old consort?

A lonely soul,

she cries herself nearly to death.

 

Then one day

Know not what benevolence occupies him,

the evening sky

bends down and lifts her up.

Nobody knows when blessings arrive from above.

'You are my brightest ornament,” says he,

and she preoccupied with some different thoughts.

 

Years pass,

then comes the day,

the tree looks upward and asks her

"Who are you?..

Thy face doesn't let me sleep,

beautiful as the evening star,

are you my flower?

Come back to your tree of past.”

 

That was the first night of Spring.

When all the candles are off,

all the girls lower their eyelids for a minute,

eyelids soft as petals!

In the deepest recesses of hearts, they know,

forgiving the past is a step to becoming.

 

That night she first turns her head towards the Sky,

till then she is awake with a promise in her eyes.

Dr. Tamali Neogi, an Associate Professor in English, is an acclaimed bilingual poet based in Kolkata

***  

Literature in Translation

Dr. Seema Sinha

Translation is a literary technique which aims at a wide readership and targets a larger audience. It is not a recent phenomenon, as translation as a concept has existed since the first millennium in English literary history. The original Anglo Saxon pagan  literature like ‘Beowulf ‘ was translated into Northumbrian and West Sussex  dialects and Middle English; it had borrowed its alphabet from the Romans in the first millennia. In the second millennia, after the Norman Conquest [1066], the growing French influences led ‘Mort’d’ Arthur’ [1485], originally in French  to be reworked by Malory in Middle English that turned the poetic feeling from religion to romance, culminating in the Renascence in the sixteenth century .

Pivotal moments in the growth of English literature can be directly related to the translation of the Bible from Latin and Hebrew, promoted by Wycliff  [- 1384] and Tyndale [1522/1535], which not only strengthened the English language and literature, but also made it intellectually accessible to the common people, stimulating the Christian ideals. King James I [1566-1625], authorized the English translation of the Bible [1604/1611], which enormously enriched the English vocabulary and prose.

At the beginning of the eighteenth century, ‘The Arabian Nights or Alf Layla’ was translated  from French into English [1706-1721], followed by other English translations in the nineteenth century. This new and exotic world of fantasy and romance fired the English imagination and the Restoration Age or the Age of Reason [1660 -1780] and gave way to the  Gothic genre in the English novel, and the Romantic movement in English poetry.

Down the centuries, translated works in literature have created a new ethos. Coming to Indian English writing, with the  widespread introduction of the English language to the Indian mind, and vice versa in the nineteenth century, there was a mutual give and take when the English read the ancient Sanskrit classics in translation and the Indians had their first introduction to English literature and Western classical epics,  creating  Indian English Writing.

A famous example is of Michael Madhusudan Dutt’s [1825-1873] translations  of  Bengali plays like ‘Neel Darpan’ into English.

The Indian English Novel is a direct result of this exposure to the form of the English novel, when the Indian mind became familiar with the genre of the Novel, which was unknown to the tradition of ancient  Indian classical literature, the great   Sanskrit epics, treatises,  lyrics, shlokas and  poetic dramas.

In the modern and post-modern world, the rules of literary purity have been relaxed; so there is a direct incorporation of words from other languages in conversation. Earlier it was Mulk Raj Anand who used Punjabi swear words in his work to give it a masculine flavour. The linguistic oddities and eccentricities are more acceptable now. Amitav Ghosh has used the peculiarities of speech in his ‘Ibis’ trilogy to capture the atmosphere and personalities of his characters.

Inter-textuality is also a literary device which is one of the characteristics of modern and post-modern literature.

A complete translation of any work of literature in any other language loses its impact, unless the cultural, historical and religious background is not alien. Let us take the example of ‘Paradise Lost ‘ by John Milton. The entire deeply Christian concept of the great epic has to be understood perfectly to feel the impact. Translated into any other language, it loses its power if the intensity of the  religious idea of the conflict between God and Satan is unfamiliar. The essence, the subtle ideas, the nuances, which can be understood perfectly in a particular  cultural context are lost most of the time in literature which is translated from its original language.

Professor Seema Sinha is an academic & writer based in Dhanbad.

                                                                  ***

Rashmirathi, Translation Challenge of Epic Proportion

 Saurabh Agarwal

There is a Sanskrit concept, rasa, the felt essence of a literary work. It cannot be paraphrased. It can only be experienced in the language it was born in. Rashmirathi by Ramdhari Singh Dinkar embodies this idea completely. It may be the finest example of what is lost, permanently, irretrievably lost, in translation.

In Vyasa's original Mahabharata, Karna is a complex figure, formidable, tragic but not the central protagonist. He is a rival, a foil. His greatness is acknowledged but not celebrated. Then came the modern retellings. Shivaji Sawant wrote Mrityunjaya, giving Karna an interior life, a voice, a grief. And Dinkar, in Rashmirathi, went further still, he gave Karna an epic. He elevated him to a hero, a figure of cosmic stature. Karna, in Dinkar's hands, is not merely a warrior. He is a principle of dignity in the face of injustice, of loyalty against all reason. This transformation, from supporting character to supreme hero, is itself an act of cultural imagination, one that translation can only partially convey.

Rashmirathi. The word is a compound. Rashmi means ray of light, specifically the rays of the sun. Rathi means charioteer. So the title means the charioteer of the sun's rays, a double identity pointing simultaneously to Karna's divine parentage as the son of Surya and to his earthly role as a warrior driving a chariot into battle. How do you translate that into English? The title alone tells you what lies ahead.

Consider, for instance, the Virat Swaroop scene:

                                                       'उदयाचल मेरा दीप्त भाल,

                                                                    भूमंडल वक्षस्थल विशाल,

भुज परिधि-बन्ध को घेरे हैं,

मैनाक-मेरु पग मेरे हैं।

In the Virat Swaroop passage, even two words, Menak and Meru, show how translation can flatten meaning. Both can be rendered simply as “mountain,” yet that single word erases an entire world of associations. Menak is not just a peak; in the Hindu imagination he is the brother of Parvati, the goddess herself, kin to divinity, part of the sacred landscape of myth. Meru, meanwhile, is not merely a mountain but the axis of the cosmos. When Dinkar writes that these are “his feet,” he is evoking a being whose form contains both divine kinship and the architecture of creation. To translate Menak and Meru merely as “mountains” is to turn the cosmic into the geographic and to lose the epic dimension that makes Rashmirathi more than poetry, a vision.

Now, compare this to Paradise Lost. Milton’s great epic is untranslatable in its own right. The weight of “Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven”, its defiance, its Latinate grandeur, collapses when paraphrased. Critics have noted for centuries that Paradise Lost must be read in English to be truly understood.

Rashmirathi is India’s version of that problem, only deeper, because it is not just a literary language that is at stake. It is a civilizational language. The poem draws from the Gita, from Vedic cosmology, from the lived tradition of yog and bhakti. The poem is not just spiritual in content; it is spiritual in form. The language itself is a ritual act.

Translation can give you the story. But it cannot give you the rasa, the emotional flavour, the aesthetic experience. It cannot give you the sound of Dinkar’s verse, which rises and falls like a hymn. It cannot give you the cultural memory that every image activates in its original reader. To read Rashmirathi in translation is to read the libretto of an opera without the music.

Saurabh Agarwal, a passionate literature enthusiast, is an entrepreneur based in Agra

 

My Urge for Writing: An Emotional Catharsis

Manju Chouhan

Poetry most of the time has been seen as a powerful medium for emotional catharsis. It offers a profound way to express and process the innermost feelings to  the poet as well as to the readers. It provides a well designed and flexible outlet for expressing deep emotions which may be very difficult to express in words otherwise. By using selected words and other poetic devices, poets can convey those complex feelings of love, grief, joy, or despair which resonate but in the bottom of the heart in absence of appropriate expression. When a poet finds someone sharing the same feelings, he feels solace. I would like to mention a couple of couplets here composed by me:

मेरा रुतबा रुबाब पन्नों पर

मेरी आंखो के खुआंव पन्नों पर

जो दे न पाई रूबरू होकर 

वही सारे जवाब पन्नों पर

 

जो मेरी आंख ने पीया था कभी 

छलक आया सैलाब पन्नों पर 

वो तेरे मेरे खत बता क्या हैं

प्रेम का है हिसाब पन्नों पर।

 Whenever someone writes poetry, he creates a space where he and his readers can take a dip into the ocean of his personal experiences and memories. Sometimes it happens when the poet revisits his past or contemplates his current circumstances. Thus he not only understands oneself but also helps in coming to terms with difficult emotions.

When painful emotions are expressed through words, the poets begin to make sense of their suffering and find a sense of healing. Whenever poetry flows directly from the heart without making any effort, it takes the poet as well as the readers towards emotional maturity. The lines of my poem shared here explain it well:

In heart's cage keeps bouncing a poem, 

Looks out of its window

And knocks on its door;

I dress it in precious clothes and deck

It with glittering similes,

And imprison it with rhythms of a veil. 

The quiet, beautiful girl

Now bides her time in shy hesitancy.

Dr Manju Chouhan is Professor UILAH, Chandigarh University 

  

                                             Poetry is what gets lost in translation

Pallavi Sharma Goyal

It was a sheer delight to be a part of the ELSA meet for the very first time on the 29^th of March 2026. The gathering was resumed after a long gap as respected Nibir Sir addressed during the meeting. 

The experience was an eye-opener for me as I went along with the sundry vocalities of the contributors on the famous aphorism attributed to Robert Frost: ‘Poetry is what gets lost in translation.’

Poetry has enchanted several people, thinkers, writers, politicians and many others since time immemorial.  While the Greek thinkers Aristotle and Socrates were staunch supporters of poetry, Plato, the disciple of Socrates, considered poetry as “a copy of a copy”.

If we intend to analyse the aphorism of Robert Frost in this regard, we find that translation of any work, most of the time, results as a second copy of a copy because the real meaning, the precise acknowledgement, of any verse stays with the original language.

What the painter Basil Hallward utters to Harry, in Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, “there is too much of myself in the thing” (to the portrait of Dorian Gray) the same goes for original verse because in it the poet gives too much of himself, and this “too much of himself” cannot be construed into the translations.

The serene poem in Hindi, “Satpura Ke Ghane Jungle” by Bhawani Prasad Mishra, is an arboretum of onomatopoeia, the hushed voices, and the dense intrusion. The bewilderment of the forest, the stillness of the wild grass, plants, and toppling, and the depiction of high and low bushes are explicit. It grasps the soul with utter delight, and the whole portrayal comes alive before its readers.  

 

सतपुडा के घने जंगल।
      

नींद मे डूबे हुए से

 ऊँघते अनमने जंगल।
झाड़ ऊँचे और नीचे,
चुप खड़े हैं आँख मींचे,
घास चुप है, कास चुप है
मूक शाल, पलाश चुप है।
बन सके तो धँसो इनमें,
धँस न पाती हवा जिनमें,
सतपुड़ा के घने जंगल
ऊँघते अनमने जंगल|

 

The following translation in English is devoid of the splendour and crescendo that reverberate in the original language.

 

                    Immersed in slumber

                   Drowsy, indifferent forests.

Tall and low shrubs, 

Stand silent with closed eyes.

Grass is silent, Reeds are quiet

Sal is mute, Palash is quiet.

Sink into them if possible

To which even the wind

Can not penetrate.

The dense forests of Satpura

                    Immersed in slumber.

 

The above reflection strengthens the reality that even when the meaning is carried across  in a translated script, it restricts the reader from cherishing the real soul of the literary work.

Dr Pallavi Sharma Goyal, Assistant Professor of English, Govt. SMS. P.G. College Shivpuri, M.P.