Translating is not at all intended to make the difference disappear –it is, on the contrary, the play of this difference: it alludes to it constantly; it dissimulates this difference, but occasionally in revealing it and often in accentuating it;
translation is the very life of this difference; it finds in this difference its august duty, and also its fascination as it proudly brings the two languages closer by its own power of unification, a power similar to that of Hercules drawing together the banks of the sea. (Maurice Blanchot)
As she translated this story during a 30-minute writing session, Natalie used Google Translate 32 times to find possible translation options or to double-check the translations she came up with on her own. Although Natalie accessed Google Translate 32 times, she only used 14 of the Spanish words suggested by Google Translate in her final article. The rest of the time, according to Natalie, the Google Translate suggestions served as “inspiration” for her translation process. (Laura Gonzales)
Isn't this what a translation does? Doesn't it guarantee these two survivals by losing the flesh during a process of conversion [change]? By elevating the signifier to its meaning or value, all the while preserving the mournful and debt-laden memory of the singular body, the first body, the unique body that the translation thus elevates, preserves, and negates [relève]? Since it is a question of a travail – indeed, as we noted, a travail of the negative – this relevance is a travail of mourning, […] a faithful and mournful memory.(Jacques Derrida)

There is a photo of my mother
floating in the north sea.
We all float with our skin and blubber--
in water we only soak enough
to get wrinkly, for the most part
The droplets shy away
in hoards and we, buoyant,
rise higher than we ever could
have sunk.
There are so many seas and she calls this
hers. Interconnected,
but this zone that rises and drops
with the rains on her homeland,
the lowland, that exists underneath
the split, this water she claims.
In Dutch, houden is
to love
to hold
& to keep

the tower
was never not
only remnant of
a massive flood
(in which, the so--
called lowlands
met their maker
Perhaps it was
waves and
kelp, all along,
sudden tendrils,
More [appeared]
Than [arrived]
&in a matter
of moments, Everything was collapsing or down)

Out of the windows are the stripes:
the grayroad, the trees, blendingcows,
the special sort with a band
of white around theirtorsos grazing andand
such with curly hair, the tulipsinblocks
now sweep away and
across in brushstrokestrands
glazing the car windows, like they are real
glass, shaped by the wind

English voices, HotelCalifornia

sarah always asked if You own guns there
i said “Addiemight (or did)

i can still taste sharp mustard soup,
(except that was after oma died and we could walk slightly faster in the outdoor mall

trying to remember the air is like swallowing hard water
all the floating only reminds me of sea and that peculiar
wind only hangs low or indulges in the
carving out it can do to earth
falling to deep in below the sea is where the land could never
altogether wise and rocked can a place be a seeable care?
als ik nu vind dat jij een andere persoon zijn dit is
ik weet niet als begrijpen mogelijk is ik ben inscrutable
a healthy heft of toe sand and two knee buckle written
only a typeface that feels old

If you must go out, scale the dike (past a single sheep, who reaches his lips through the wires) the single staircase, itchy weeds. There’s the ocean, you can touch it. If you must, dip in. Steal an empty crab shell from the rocks, pop the seaweed bubbles. You must dodge the bikers but wave hello. You must keep running until the pier, stumble over cobblestone, and out of breath, make your entrance. The server asks in Dutch and you must respond, “Een Magnum Wit, alsjeblieft.” Sharp sounds and crackles from the wrapper, a tall man’s hand and it’s filled with the Euros from Annie and Opa and Oma. Now you must speed away--could they tell? You must follow the procedure, rip, break the white chocolate coating, remove an arched rectangle from the top, surgeon precision because this is precious. Could they hear the English on your voice? If you must ask for a Magnum Wit you must be and act as an alternate to yourself. In this other dimension, the ice cream is just whiter than the coating and holds black speckles, like planets embedded. And you hear the voices calling from their dikes.

The breaking sand
trailings that make
Only some sand soaks up the salty water
&remains, wet
just at the edge
ver a thousand currents
this grain will diverge,
it will harden into a different rock than the
loose and hot
grains inland.

In looking ahead, what remains unclear is the particular roles that translators and everyday users of translation will play in an increasingly technology-dependent globalized society. As translation technologies intersect and sometimes subsume the translation process entirely, an important factor in moving toward the effective use of these technologies and in preparing for future changes is a critical and informed approach in understanding what such tools can and cannot do and how users should use them to achieve the desired result. It is here that I insist upon the emergent need for the fundamental awareness of and accessible education for translation technologies, their strengths and weaknesses, and their impact on international and intercultural communications for all stakeholders, including translators, buyers and sellers of translation services, and, most of all, the everyday user who is the most unaware and vulnerable.(Stephen Doherty)
“The internet is becoming the town square for the global village of tomorrow,” said Bill Gates. But if the vast majority of the world’s languages don’t have a digital future, what will speakers have to sacrifice to be heard in the “digital town square”? Closing the digital divide clearly has huge potential to empower individuals around the world. However, as it stands at the moment, looking through the lens of language leaves claims the internet is an inclusive, egalitarian public space sounding more and more hollow. (Holly Young)