Page:Ido Exhaustive Textbook Talmey 1919.pdf/29

 The original text of this most beautiful and sublime (I, 484) piece of French literature, the prayer on the Acropolis (la prière sur l'Acropole), is attached below to show that the Ido translation given above agrees with the original most faithfully, almost word for word. Another Ido translation of the prayer was published in 1908 (I, 485). It is very good. But its author has allowed himself deviations from the original that are not at all necessary and do not represent an improvement upon the original.

The object of the preceding remark is to bring out clearly a general principle to be complied with particularly by students of the international language. In rendering model prose of one language by another the original is to be followed most faithfully, word for word, going even as far as to observe the same order of the words, provided only that the forms of good style in the translating language are not infringed. The observance of this principle is indicated especially in translations into the international language. For one of its objects is to acquaint one nation with the spirit of the language of another nation, and the spirit of a language manifests itself to a great extent in the style. The latter is therefore to be exactly copied as far as is compatible with the requirements of good style in the international language. This only restriction excludes the word for word translation of distinct idioms. They are to be rendered in some logical manner. A word for word translation of phrases that are only slightly idiomatic and therefore well intelligible in such translation is not at all objectionable. It may even serve well the purpose stated above.

La Prière sur l'Acropole (Extrait)

par

Ernest Renan

Je suis né, déesse aux yeux bleus, de parents barbares, chez les Cimmériens bons et vertueux qui habitent au bord d'une mer sombre, hérissée de rochers, toujours battue par les orages. On y connaît à peine le soleil; les fleurs sont les mousses marines, les algues et les coquillages coloriés qu'on trouve au fond des baies solitaires. Les nuages y paraissent sans couleur, et la joie même y est un peu triste; mais des fontaines d'eau froide y sortent du rocher, et les yeux des jeunes filles y sont comme ces vertes fontaines où, sur des fonds d'herbes ondulées, se mire le ciel.

Mes pères, aussi loins que nous pouvons remonter, étaient voués aux navigations lointaines, dans des mers que tes Argonautes ne connurent pas. J'entendis, quand j'étais jeune, les chansons des voyages polaires; je fus bercé au souvenir des glaces flottantes, des mers brumeuses sem- blables à du lait, des îles peuplées d'oiseaux qui chantent à leur heures, et qui, prenant leur volée tous ensemble, obscurcissent le ciel.