Lyricizing the Lord's Prayer in Chichewa

Lyricizing the Lord’s Prayer in Chichewa∗ Ernst R. Wendland ABSTRACT: This paper presents a text-oriented survey of some ongoing experimentation in translating the Bible poetically in the Chichewa language of Malawi and Zambia. An initial overview features a summary of ten important stylistic characteristics of the ndakatulo popular lyric genre along with illustrations of their use and comments on their varied communicative function, all selected from the publications of a number of well-known local poets. Certain aspects of this ndakatulo style are then applied in a creative poetic rendition of the Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9-13) in Chichewa. This version is comparatively evaluated in relation to two existing translations of this same biblical text, one being very literal in nature, the other much more idiomatic. In conclusion, some wider implications and possible applications of this study are discussed, including several proposals for future research and testing in the field of translating sacred texts into the Bantu languages of south-central Africa. 1 INTRODUCTION The diverse dimensions of difficulty that are involved in Bible translation will not be documented here (cf Wendland 1998); however, certain aspects of this most challenging type of verbal communication will be illustrated in the presentation that follows. For our purposes translation may be defined as the selective linguistic representation of a given text in another language-culture in the most relevant way possible in view of the specific audience in mind. Any translation is ‘selective’ in the sense that it cannot reproduce all aspects of form, content, and/or function of the original text; therefore, an evaluation and a selection in terms of priority has to be made. The criterion of ‘relevance’ has been determined rather monolithically in the past,1 that is, in terms of just two major possibilities, i.e., a relatively literal (formally correspondent) as opposed to a relatively idiomatic (functionally equivalent) version. Recent proposals (e.g., Wilt 2002:ch 1), however, favor a more nuanced approach, one that is much more audience-oriented in focus and based upon a great deal of pre-project research and ongoing critical assessment. The terms of reference, organizational principles, and operating procedures of a particular translation will thus be explicitly set forth in a project Brief that centers on a specific aim or goal (Skopos) that is established in relation to the audience concerned.2 The current study reports on the nature and purpose of a little experiment in translation technique that seeks to render certain ∗ Portions of an earlier draft of this paper were originally presented as part of a UBS panel (Translation and Sacred Text, Chairperson: Dr. Philip Noss) at the African Literature Association—28th Annual Meeting, April 3-7, 2002 – University of California, San Diego. 1 demonstrable ‘literary’ passages of the Scriptures in a corresponding manner in the Chichewa language, specifically in a poetic, oratorical mode (ndakatulo). Accordingly, in the sections that follow I will present a detailed description, a practical application, and a critical evaluation of the methodology under consideration and its outcome. 2 THE STYLISTIC FEATURES OF CHEWA NDAKATULO POEMS Ndakatulo are like songs which a person composes for himself having personal meanings. In the case of many ndakatulo, the melodies are unknown, but on reading them, whether silently or aloud, one finds that they embellish the language.3 In the words quoted above, which come from an introduction to a published collection of ndakatulo, we find both the general and the specific qualifying characteristics of this genre of Chewa literature.4 First of all, ndakatulo are ‘like songs’ not because they are always sung, or accompanied by musical instrumentation, since that is only an optional feature pertaining to their performance. Instead, the writer seems to be referring to an implicit (i.e., non-lexicalized) distinction which differentiates literary compositions that are relatively more marked by formal stylistic devices from those that are not—or to state this in familiar, but only approximate, terms: poetry versus prose. More specifically, then, one of the principal diagnostic properties of ndakatulo is their capacity to ‘embellish the language’. This alludes to the rhetorical force and the evocative power of the creative style which distinguishes this type of composition where the so-called ‘poetic’ (or aesthetic) function of communication is maximized—or, in the more picturesque words of an actual practitioner of the art: [Lyric poets] know how to flavor (kutendera) their work with words that grab the heart (mau ogwira mtima), comparisons (zifanifani) that bring pictures of what is being spoken about, and other tools (zipangizo) of expertise (luso). (Sitima 2001:v) This is literary form drawing attention to itself, not in competition with the message, but as an added complement to it. The latter is an important qualification, for ndakatulo poems do not (at least as far as the Chewa tradition is concerned) illustrate the familiar 2 principle: ‘art (or poetry) for its own sake’. On the contrary, the highly personalized and deeply felt message articulated by the poet is another crucial aspect of the genre. To this point, a prominent Malawian writer and critic observes: Ndakatulo are like magic, riddles, and certain idioms, which cause a person to think more deeply than he does ordinarily. In ndakatulo we find a rich and profound manner of speaking which is closely connected with wise thinking. (Mvula, vi) Another well-known author refers to this mysterious and masterful use of language as ‘turning the brain inside out’ (kupindulitsa bongo), and he goes on to speak about the literary freedom which is so typical of such writing: In ndakatulo we have the liberty to write and to say anything we wish in whatever way we want without being bound by the rules of Chichewa speech. (Gwengwe, v) Ndakatulo poets (andakatuli) may therefore be described as ‘people who are thrilled by/with words’ (anthu achimkondwa ndi mau), for: they love beautifully-sounding words which cause the intention of their mind's reflections to quickly overshadow their readers (Gwengwe, v) At this point I might propose a possible translational equivalent for the term ndakatulo, namely, a ‘lyric [poem]’, or as Webster rather broadly defines it from the perspective of Western literature: ‘poetry or a poem mainly expressing the poet's emotions and thoughts, (e.g.) sonnets, elegies, odes, hymns, etc’.5 I have already noted some of the authors’ own comments referring to the depth of thoughts and emotions which distinguish such compositions, as well as the artistry and innovativeness of the language in which they are conveyed. Two other distinctive traits pertaining to their creation are individuality and spontaneity. With regard to authorship, most of the works that comprise the still vibrant Chewa oral tradition may be described as being of a ‘collective’ nature in the sense that their ancient originators are unknown, and thus their form and content has undoubtedly been modified over the ages of their performance. In contrast to this, the ndakatulo lyrics, due to their highly personal and expressive qualities, tend to be very individual and free flowing in composition, at least for the generation in which they are created. The authors are known and recognized as skilled practitioners of the language—as ‘word-carvers’ (osema-mau) or verbal ‘artists’ (amisiri), poets who create ‘ripe lyrics’ (ndakatulo zakupsa), ‘digging them out from deep within their necks’ (amafukulira 3 zakukhosi kwake) (Sitima 2001:1). Their reputation is both enhanced and preserved by another, more recent innovation in the history of African literary development, namely, literacy and the composition of verbal art forms in writing for publication as well as for musical recording and dramatic stage productions. In fact, for some speakers the meaning of the term ndakatulo itself has been narrowed to refer specifically to written forms of Chewa poetry. I have chosen to focus upon the latter literate variety which, in comparison with its strictly oral cousin exhibits three major points of difference: • • • written ndakatulo are not as redundant in construction (i.e., they contain much less overt lexical repetition); they are compositionally more complex or developed thematically; and they are more dense stylistically (i.e., the formal literary features displayed are more numerous and diverse). It is likely that lyrics originally composed in writing would serve as a better model to follow in the search for an appropriate translational equivalent for poetically phrased and rhetorically powered literature of the Bible.6 This is a version that is specifically intended in terms of its Brief and Skopos for Christian youth groups that might appreciate a more dynamic rendition of the Scriptures for personal devotions, dramatic performance (plays), and various musical (choral) adaptations.7 The individuality of these lyric poems is of course closely related to their commonly ascribed spontaneity. Enoch Mvula is no doubt overstating the point (even with regard to his own published poems), but there is a certain element of truth to his claim that: A person does not sit down [deliberately] to compose a ndakatulo. On the contrary, in most cases he just recognizes [what to say] and begins to sing a lyric. It is similar to what happens occasionally when a person will suddenly start crying or talking to himself. (Mvula, v) Thus a ‘lyricist’ (mndakatuli) may spontaneously react to any number of moving situations in life by singing or penning an appropriate ndakatulo. This more or less immediate involvement in one's own personal experiences, whether or not they concern others, is the quality that motivates the production of an artistic verbal expression of these strong emotive reactions. This results in a certain freshness and dynamism of style that is unfortunately all too often lost in translation. Thus a literal rendering frequently results in unintelligibility, while an idiomatic paraphrase, on the other hand, tends to wash out most of the color and flavor of the original language text. 4 The preceding has been just a cursory introduction to our primary focus of attention in the first half of this paper, namely, a brief exposition and illustration of some of the main formal attributes of Chewa lyrics. What are the distinctive poetic devices which by their artful combination serve to characterize the literary process of kulakatula ndakatulo ‘to lyricize lyrics’ in Chichewa? A survey of the extant published literature reveals a number of typical stylistic markers, which may be organized according to ten general categories for the purposes of discussion. These features will be defined and exemplified on the basis of a detailed study of six published booklets of Chewa ndakatulo cited above (footnote 6).8 The quotations included in this descriptive overview are taken from a selective corpus of 26 individual lyric poems, the titles of which are supplied after each item: 2.1 Balanced Lineation A ndakatulo lyric is set out in lines (on average, 10-20 per poem) that tend to approximate one another in length throughout a given composition—but not within the genre as a whole. The norm is to find a single independent expression of meaning, or utterance unit, per line, whether syntactically simple, compound or complex. The lines combine to produce a certain verbal rhythm which is enhanced by a typical (that is, for speech in general) utterance-final stress on the penultimate syllable. This is often accompanied by vowel lengthening when the words are actually spoken aloud. Great variations in average line length within a composition tend to be rhetorically significant, e.g., to mark a prominent opposition, an emotive climax, a dramatic pause, a special illocutionary function, or a snatch of quoted speech. In marked contrast to the relatively rigid binary nature of most Hebrew poetic lines, or ‘cola’ (i.e., ‘parallelism’), the lineal sequence of Chewa ndakatulo reflects for the most part a progressive linear unfolding of the poet's ideas. Thus we do not often find a standardized internal grouping of lines (i.e., a ‘stanza’), but rather a more irregular arrangement that comprises either longer sentence units or some sort of a strophic (poetic paragraph) pattern (see 10 below). 5 The two selections below illustrate the variation that ndakatulo exhibit with regard to both average and relative line length. The first gives an early poetic expression of the Lord’s Prayer in Chichewa: Tate wathu Wakumwamba Liyere dzinalo; Ufumu wanu ubwere, Zofuna mucite. Our Father up above May that name be ‘holy’; May your dominion come, Do your will. (‘Tate Wathu Wakumwamba’ [Our Father Up Above] 1-4; Chadza, 23; the former numbers refer to the lines quoted, starting from the beginning of a cited poem; the latter figure refers to the published page number in the work cited.) The line-syllable pattern of the preceding lyric continues quite strictly throughout the poem. Every even line is one or two syllables shorter in length, and this establishes a gently undulating rhythmic flow which is well-suited for liturgical use—or from the perspective of Bible translation, to overtly distinguish the occurrence of this prayer (Mt 6:9-13) from its wider surrounding context of hortatory discourse. Chiphadzuwa anali madzi am'mbiya, M'mene ndinazyolikiramo kuyang'anamo nkhope. Amuna anzanga andicha dzina loti "Thunga." Pamene anapita ku madzi ndinali ndondondo naye, Kunkhuni kaya, ndinalinso pambuyo kulondola,… ‘She-outshines-the-sun’ was (like) water in a water pot, Into which I gazed down to see (my own) face. My mates gave me the name ‘RainSpirit [Water-man]’. When she went to (draw) water I would follow step-by-step, Or if she would go fetch firewood, I was right there behind her… (‘Chikondi’ [Love] 30-35; Gwengwe, 8-9) The average length is noticeably longer in this second case, but again the lines do not vary much from one another in this respect. This poetic feature is of course also quite common in Western literature of a more traditional type. Poems that do not observe a more or less balanced lineation usually do so in order to create a special connotative or emotive effect and/or because they are based upon some other principle of establishing a rhythmic speech pattern, for example: 6 Moto, Woononga, Wochokera ku Madzulo, Unadza usiku Titagona tonse Nyumba yathu nkuotcha. Kalanga ine katundu wanga! Kaligo, Msansi, Limba, Zeze, Mbalure, Mphulusa lokhalokha. Mphunzitsa bwanji ana? Ndikapeza kuti kamsompho Ndisemere zina zoyimbira? Fire, Ravaging Rising out of the West, Came at night When we were all asleep And burned up our house. Mercy me, all my possessions! Flute, Finger xylophone, Rhythm bass, Banjo, Drum, All in ashes. How will I teach my children? Where will I find an adze To carve some more instruments? (‘Moto Woononga’ [Ravaging Fire], the entire poem; Mvula, 69) Here, the relatively short, irregular lines serve to stimulate several scenic and evocative impressions: the swiftness of the calamity, its dire consequences (the poet’s own house was incinerated), the completeness of the fire’s destruction (the structure would have been constructed largely of wood poles and grass), the perplexed condition of the speaker, and perhaps even his breathless, excited state when he first reported the disaster to friends and neighbors. 2.2 Vivid Imagery Ndakatulo poems are normally filled with vivid figures of speech. Metaphors and similes abound, and one frequently encounters metonymy, hyperbole, and personification as well. This figurative language finds its reference in both rural and urban settings, and is traditional as well as modern in its outlook. As a rule the mlakatuli tries to keep his figures fresh and lively, hence avoiding those which have already been cliched or conventionalized, such as dead metaphors, or those that have been coined by others. As already noted, it is characteristic of poetic imagery, as with lyric diction in general, to be highly expressive and/or emotive in connotative impact and implication. This particular feature is well illustrated by the following example, which makes a contemporary appeal to ancient ethnic beliefs and traditions: 7 Lero kapena mawa tisinzina, Mudzatiperekeza kumbiya zodooka. Ananu kuti mudzaone imvi, Kuti kumanda kudzakutalikireni, Sungani miyambo yathu. Azimu akakufulatirani, fululani mowa. Awa ndi mawu a tsabola wakale. Today or tomorrow we close our eyelids, You will escort us to the place of broken pots [graveyard]. You children, if you want to see gray hair [old age], If you want the grave to remain far away from you, Keep our traditional customs. When the spirits turn their backs on you, brew (them) some beer. These are the words of an old chili pepper [wise elder]. (‘Akoma Akagonera’ [Advice Appeals a Day Later], 8-14; Mvula, 77) A crucial item in any lyric poet's repertory of poetic devices is the ideophone, which enables him, in a word, to dramatize just about any predication—whether in reference to an action, event, state, or situation—by raising it to a higher power of rhetorical significance and effect. Ideophones are the chief exponents of imagery in any African language, and thus they regularly appear in ndakatulo compositions to flash graphic instances of all sorts of sensory impressions on the screen of the listener's mind. Indeed, they really must be heard aloud to achieve their intended evocative purpose.9 Ideophones may appear individually, in small sets, or accumulated in clusters according to how much the poet wishes to heighten the emotive tension of the scene which he happens to be depicting. The next passage gives us a heavy concentration of connected imagery via this ideophonic method, now situated in a comparatively modern setting in contrast to the excerpt above:10 Maine! Ndazizidwa, ndifuna moto. Mayo! Ndatenthedwa, ndifuna madzi. Subo! N'katere sindiima, kwe-kooo-kwe-kwe! N'katere kwaca! N'katere kwaca! Kwa! Kwa! Kwa! Kupu-kupukupu! Kwa! Njira yanga siimeneyi, Kutembenuka sinditha; nanga n'ta? Cambuyo ndifufuluka, fu! fu! fu! fu! Tswiii! Konzani majiga ndipite kwaca-kweee! Coka m'njira! coka m'njira! coka m'njira! Mercy me! I'm freezing cold, I want fire. Help! I'm over-heated, I want water. I’m off! I can do it—I won't stop, huffing and puffing away at the start! I can do it—it’s already light! I can do it—it’s already light! Rolling, chugging down the tracks, big wheels turning! This isn't the way I want to go, But I can't turn around; so what can I do? To reverse I can only shuffle backwards, puff-puff and screech to a halt! Get ready there at the station, let me pass with a snort and a squeal! Clear the way! Clear the way! Clear the way! (‘Sitima Yapamtunda’ [Land Steamer], the whole poem; Chadza 1970:15) 8 Most of the ideophones of the preceding poem (italicized) are onomatopoeic in nature, but the imagery does not end there. In fact, it is the fusion of verbally stimulated sound and sight (perhaps even smell—i.e., steam and smoke) which gives this condensed dramatic piece, and many ndakatulo like it, their tremendous evocative power and appeal to the entire sensorium. 2.3 Phonesthetic Appeal Along with the balanced lineation mentioned above, ndakatulo poems typically manifest a distinct effort to capitalize upon the musical vocal resources of a Bantu language (e.g., a pure five-vowel, open-syllabic phonology and extensive concord prefixal agreement patterns) in order to embellish selected utterances of a given lyric. Ideophones, as noted above, play an important part in this pervasive oral-aural attuned strategy, and so does repetition, as shown in the iterative example below: Inde ndi thobvu nthuni, Yes indeed it is foam [beer], my friends, Likanafewetsa kummero kwaumaku. Thobvu losefukira chipanda, Thobvu loziziritsa kukhosi, Thobvu losesa pfumbi kuti Ukonkhe bwino moyera, kukhosi Kumveke libwidii! It [alone] could soften this dried out gullet of mine. Foam which overflows the calabash, Foam which cools the throat, Foam which sweeps away the dust so that You might pour more in easily, into the throat Let a great gulp be felt/heard in there! (‘Kuli Kwathu’ [At Home], 15-21; Mvula, 15) Periodic alliteration (/k/, /t/, and /l/) as well as assonance (/i/, /u/, and /o/), both of which are associated with the two key terms ‘foam’ [thobvu, a metonym for ‘beer’] and ‘throat’ [kukhosi], serve to reinforce a strong appeal to the senses, especially thirst, which the poet is seeking to evoke. While not a generic prescription, end-rhyme appears often enough in ndakatulo to be a significant phonological force, as we observe particularly in the final four lines above (the last of which ends in a connotatively powerful ideophone). Also significant are the two instances of enjambment (or line overlapping) that occur at the end of the third and second last lines— suggesting perhaps how easily the welcome liquid slides down a thirsty gullet! More sophisticated forms of sound play are also utilized from time to time, either with a playful or a more serious thematic purpose, for example: M'masomphenya nthawi zonse ndima m'pisa m'maso. In daydreams [‘gaps in the eyes’] I always see her [‘I place her into my eyes’—as into my shirt pocket]. 9 (‘Chikondi’ [Love], 2; Gwengwe, 8-9) Mwanayo analira: Mayi wanga ine! Ha! Siwo apita! The child cried: Mother of mine! Ha! Look she's going away! Misozi m'masaya inatsika napenyanso molawira nalira: With tears streaming down its cheeks it gazed again in farewell and cried: ‘Mayo!’ ‘Woe is me!’ (‘Ukapolo’ [Slavery], 31-33; Ulendo, 63-64) The varied concordial sequences and vowel-prominent vocabularies of southeastern Bantu languages naturally favor the creation of such important audio effects. But it still takes a skilled verbal artist to transform this potential into a phonic reality in which sound merges with sense to complement and enhance the expressive poetic message being conveyed. 2.4 Syntactic Transposition Due to the comprehensive noun class and concord copy system, the normal S-V-O word order of Chewa clauses can easily be modified in order to achieve some special effect. This may occur within the organization of sound, sense, and/or syntax of a particular ndakatulo, e.g., for the purposes of emphasis, foregrounding, euphony, climax, and so forth. The initial and final positions of a given clause or utterance unit are those which normally bear the greatest perceptual prominence—the first because it is the usual place for the discourse topic to appear; the last since it is phonologically marked (penultimate stress +/- vowel lengthening), especially when it occurs at the conclusion of an utterance. But within the clause (sentence) virtually any element, even dependent modifiers, may be displaced in the service of rhetoric, that is, shifted ahead of or behind its expected location within some larger grammatical pattern. The following passage (which dramatizes an oracle given by the apical ancestress and high priestess of the Chewa people) is exceptional in this regard since most lines illustrate at least one noteworthy syntactic relocation. The transpositions thin out in the middle of the poem, perhaps in order to establish an interpretive foundation for the surrounding segments. The overall impact is considerably dulled, but perhaps still perceptible, in my necessarily literal translation. As a whole these alterations in verbal 10 arrangement contribute a great deal to the total intended effect of an esoteric ‘inspired’ mantic speech of special religious and ethnic significance. The words italicized (*), or underlined (#), or in two cases boldfaced (@) below are those which have been shifted out of a more prosaic word order; their normal position within the phrase, clause, or sentence is indicated by the respective accompanying symbol: @La mowa phwando * ndiphikira nonse #! Nyangutuyo; * Pano # mizu timerapo @ inde pa Kaphirinthiwa. Wonse Abathwa * tulo asowetseni #, zitero. Yochokera mwa ine mbumba * idzayendera kumsana. Inde, idzasangalala ninyadira ndife a Malawi Nikhala mchimtendere ponsepo m'dzikoli. Inde, mbumba * m'banja mwanga yochokera , Komanso yochokera pano Kaphirintiwa ku Msinja. Kutali ndi moto Kalonga gona * inde, M’zovuta ndi mtendere bwino watilisha * #. Ya makolo mizimu * tiyamika, m’zipululu yatisunga #. Chauta naye nkamodzi komwe sanatidzimbukire *. Of beer a celebration I will cook for you all! Nyangu (said); Here roots we establish, yes at [Mount] Kaphirintiwa. The pygmies all--sleep may they never have, so be it. From me the matriclan will ride at the back [i.e., w/o any troubles]. Yes, it will rejoice and take pride in us, we Malawians And it will enjoy complete peace everywhere in this land. Yes indeed, the matriclan from my family coming, But also coming from right here at the Kaphirintiwa of Msinja. Away from the fire, Chief, sleep, yes indeed, In troubles with peace well you have cared for us. Of the ancestors the spirits we praise, in the wilderness they kept us. Chauta [God] himself not even once he was displeased with us. (‘Nkhumano’ [Meeting Place], 23-34; Ulendo, 22-23) While the syntactic manipulation that pervades the preceding passage seems to be designed primarily to evoke a general sociocultural, even religious, impression, there are several instances of its more specific function of highlighting items of special topical or thematic importance. Notice, for example, that a strong emphasis upon the source of the primordial ‘matriclan’, i.e., ‘coming from [within] me’ (grammatical advancement) is balanced positionally by the focused phrase that occurs at the end of the next line: ‘…in us, we Malawians’. This is a jarringly effective anachronistic reference to the priestess Nyangu's descendants under the modern name of their present nation-state. The great 11 distance between generations is thus subtly reflected spatially in the adjusted order of constituent syntactic elements. 2.5 Concept Specification The language of ndakatulo poems tends to be very specific, as we have already observed in the examples cited above. While abstract concepts, both traditional and modern, such as love, death, jealousy, polygamy, patriotism, interracial relations, religious conservatism, and culture change, are certainly dealt with—as they would have to be in order for these compositions to have any widespread relevance in society—these themes are always treated in very concrete, immediate, and everyday terms, frequently set in some pastoral or natural scene. Such allusion to the world of actual everyday experience obviously makes it easier for the average listener to appreciate these substantial lyrics. Nevertheless, most people are not always able to plumb their depths of meaning in order to grasp the underlying message and deeper significance that lies beneath the semantic surface of a given text. A number of re-readings (hearings) are usually necessary to progressively comprehend the text and all of its relevant cultural associations and social implications. In their search for specificity and current relevance, the poets occasionally push toward the limits of lexical choice in two different directions, namely, the archaic or the colloquial, thus presenting readers/listeners with a distinct challenge to their capacity to comprehend the full message. Indeed, once the more immediate attraction of the phonological aspects of a poem diminishes, it requires considerable effort at times for an audience to reach a level of understanding that adequately comes to grips with the overall impression which the artist wishes them to derive from his composition. But this is probably true in the case of poetic works in most literary traditions. The point is that as far as the Chewa corpus is concerned, and ndakatulo lyrics in particular, this desire to expand the dimensions of knowledge and experience is typically pursued by means of descriptive verbal techniques that are culturally very specific and linguistically quite concentrated. This is very much the preferred method—in contrast to philosophizing about the human condition in life in broad, abstract, conjectural, and/or 12 theoretical terms. We have noted the poet's concern for detail already in his use of imagery (cf 2 above), but the following piece illustrates this characteristic as it applies in a more general way with regard to the diction of ndakatulo: Chosadziwa: munthu anali kuyenda pa njinga. Anacheuka, uku ndi uko, osaona kanthu, Koma chirombo chinali gaada! pambuyo poika katundu. Tsopano chirombo chinatsika ndikuyamba kulankhula, Mu mtima mwache chinayamba chimvekere: ‘Lero mdani wanga uyu aona zakuda. Sadziwa ine ndine mdani wa anthu... O! O! Ndachita mwayi ndapeza galu, Tsopano ndidzalowa mwa iye, ndimutuma, Kuti adutse kutsogolo kwa njinga iyi.’ A mystery: a man was riding on a bicycle. He turned around to look, here and there, without seeing anything, But a beast was lying there flat on its back, on the rear carrier. Now the beast got off and began to speak, It began to speak to itself [in its heart] like this: ‘Today this enemy of mine will see black [experience misfortune]. He does not realize that I, I am the enemy of people... Oh-my! I'm in luck, here's a dog, Now I'll just enter it, and send it along, To go ahead and cross the road in front of this cycle.’ (‘Tsoka’ [Bad Luck], 1-7, 11-13; Gwengwe, 15-16) The preceding ‘mysterious’ passage also exemplifies the mdakatuli's penchant for dramatization in the form of personalizing direct speech (cf feature 9 below). The next selection, on the other hand, unfolds an even greater enigma—another feature that is rather prominent in these lyric poems, though they are not usually developed to the extent that we see illustrated below. Oftentimes in the case of such a thematic puzzle, the specificity of the vocabulary paradoxically only causes the subject to grow more opaque and to fade further from perception. Normally, however, there is a final point of revelation, which may be gradually unfolded, when the solution is introduced and all the pieces of meaning are fit into place: Likongolerenji bokosi Monga losekeretsa? Wolipanga analipanga, Kulipangira misozi. Akonzeranji cosakondweretsaco? Wocilandirayo naye sacikana. Lokomeranji bokosi Monga losangalatsa? Wolipangayo salifuna Koma alipangiranji? Wokhalamo salidziwa, Nanga acitamonji? Wolinyamula sakondwera nalo, Tsono alinyamuliranji? Olitsata liwaliritsa misozi, Nanga alitsatiranji? Wocipanga sacifuna, Wokhalamo sacidziwa, Ocinyamula sakondwera naco, Ocitsata ciwaliritsa--Bokosi la maliro. (‘Likongolerenji Bokosi?’ [Why Is the Box So Beautiful], the entire poem; Chadza 1967:22-23) Why is the box so beautiful As if it's made for enjoyment? The maker made it He made it for tears. Why did he prepare something so displeasing? The one who receives it likewise does not refuse. Why is the box so attractive As if it's to bring happiness? The one who made it doesn't want it But why did he make it? The dweller inside doesn't know it, Then what's he doing there inside? The one carrying it is not happy with it, So why is he carrying it? Those who follow along behind, it makes them weep, Then why are they following it? Its maker doesn't want it, Its inhabitant doesn't know it, 13 Its carriers aren't happy with it, Its followers, it makes them weep--a Coffin. The specificity and concreteness of vocabulary does not mean that the themes explored in ndakatulo are correspondingly trite or superficial. Rather, allusion, double entendre, polysemy, and irony contribute to a general richness of semantic significance that heightens the import of this evocative form of poetry. That is the norm as the poets plumb the depths of their own personal experience as well as the collective consciousness of the group, both traditional and modern, to come to grips artistically with some of life's most profound and perplexing issues. Notice how the mdakatuli transforms the following lyric from what seems at first to be a simple ode to nature into a somewhat pessimistic comment on the transience of life: Dzuwa kum'mawa likutuluka, Kufiira ngati phwetekere. Padothi kamtengo kakuphuka, Kufewa ndi kufatsa, mkanthete. The sun in the east is emerging, Bright red like a ripe tomato. A small tree sprouts from the earth, Soft and meek in its youthfulness. Pamutu dzuwa lafika, Kutentha koma ndi moto. Kuthambo mtengo wafika, Kukhwima ndi kujijirika. The sun has arrived on top of one's head, My, but it burns like fire. The tree has reached the sky, Vibrant in its maturity. Dzuwa kuzambwe likulowa, Kufiira ngati phwetekere. Padothi mtengo ukuweramira, Kupindika ndi kudandaula. The sun in the west is setting, Bright red like a ripe tomato. The tree is bowing down to the earth, All bent over and complaining. (‘Dzuwa’ [The Sun], the entire poem; Mvula, 31) One temporal and spatial image reinforces the other as the poet gradually unfolds his message to reveal its sudden surprise in the final verse: The sun [related to God] retains its surpassing strength and vitality even as it sinks into the ground; the tree, in sharp contrast, enters the earth all worn out from the rigors of its short day in the sun. The plaintive ‘complaint’ now is that of humanity [as the extended metaphor's image suddenly switches to its topic], contemplating mournfully on the brevity and apparent purposelessness of their earthly existence. The overall effect of this poem is enhanced by the subtle lexical variations that are introduced into the regularized phonological framework which is manifested in the three stanzas of this short lyric vignette. 2.6 Formal Condensation 14 There are several reasons why condensation—the use of deliberately abbreviated or shortened forms—is quite possibly a poetic universal. For one, the rhythm of a piece usually demands it, that is, in order to give a distinctive, pleasing sound and articulatory movement to the poem when read, either aloud or to oneself, even in situations where it is not necessary to package lines to fit a strict metrical pattern. Another reason for brevity is more semantic in nature and pertains to the richness, allusiveness, and intentional ambiguity which so often is a feature of expressive varieties of poetic composition. Nothing complicates the comprehension of meaning faster than omission—when some essential, or at least expected, elements are left out. Then again condensation, coupled perhaps with syntactic manipulation (cf 4 above), may be employed at times for a purely formal purpose. Thus compaction serves to decorate the diction and to give the poet new possibilities for creating novel expressions with respect to sound and/or sense. Such usage, if not unique, is different enough to set his speech off from more mundane, ordinary uses of the language. This category includes such diverse literary devices as: ellipsis (syntactic and textual), appellation (naming) or nominalization (events as nouns), asyndeton (deletion of conjunctions), parataxis (used in preference to fuller subordinating constructions), lexical contraction, proverb citation, and verbless predication. Several varieties of condensation, as exhibited in the Chewa lyric corpus, are manifested in the two passages below: Koma muli chingwe bwera kuno, Pakhosi piringeni! Nokha mumtengo phee! Ngati wanzeru. Kenaka mwadziponya lende! Diso tong'o! Koma mwapindulanji? But you say, string come here, On the neck twisted around! You alone in the tree, so silently! Like some wise person. Then you throw yourself (down), swinging there in the air! Eyes protruding! But what have you gained? (‘Kudzipha’ [Suicide], 18-24; Mvula, 65) The ideophone too is an indispensable element in the preceding juxtaposition of images and observations that describe, in an intentionally disconnected and disconcerting manner, the consummation of a pathetic suicide. Formal and semantic compaction of a somewhat different sort is evident in the next piece, which features several appellations and maxims that condense into pithy predications the poet's bitter contemplation on his unjust treatment as a cripple in life: 15 Anthu opanda nzeru andisinjirira Nanditcha, ‘sakwerapachulu’. Achipongwe ana anditcha, ‘Sayang'ana kumwamba zyolizyoli’. Uwutu ananu ndi mtudzu! People with no sense revile me, They call me, ‘the-one who-does-not-climb-an-anthill’ [i.e., a coward] Rude children give me this name, ‘the-one-who-doesn't-look-up, only-down’. [i.e., a shamed person] That, you children, is most impudent! Panyerenyetsa kanda suntchisi, Adatero akulu. Dzanja ndili nalo, Koma Chauta ngwanjiru Adandipatsa kachidutswa. Nsanamira kande nkulipira matope. To scratch where it itches is not uncouth [i.e., to care for one's needs is no crime], So spoke the elders, I do have a hand, But God is malicious He gave me only a stump. Veranda pole scratch [me], and I'll pay you some mud. [i.e., what else can you expect a poor fellow like me to do]? (‘Nsanamirakande’ [Veranda-Pole-Scratch], 16-26; Mvula, 78-79) Some measure of the large amount of condensation present in the Chichewa original is suggested by the length of the translation required just to become minimally meaningful in English. To delve into the full cultural background of a pathetic lament such as the above would of course necessitate an extended sociocultural commentary. 2.7 Textual Expansion To a great extent, this device is simply the reverse of condensation. Instead of shortening individual linguistic forms and constructions, the poet intentionally lengthens them. The rhetorical functions performed, however, are partially overlapping. Thus expansive techniques may be employed for rhythmic effect, especially to create a balanced, flowing sound; to emphasize certain key ideas; and for idiomacity, that is, to reproduce the redundancy of actual speech, especially where dialogue/monologue is being recorded (see 9 below). One major type of expansion in the ndakatulo is morphological: due to the synthetic or agglutinative nature of the Chewa language, it is relatively easy to extend a given word by means of derivational, inflectional, referential, and intensifying particles (especially deictic postclitics). The following quotation illustrates one of the most commonly used forms of nominal amplification (along with intensifiers [see 8 below])— namely, a demonstrative suffix (in italics): Ndipo musatitengere Ku mayeserowo; Koma mutipulumutse Kwa mdani wathuyo. And do not take us Into those tests; But save us From that enemy of ours. (‘Tate Wathu Wakumwamba’ [Our Father Up Above], 13-16; Chadza 1967:23) 16 In the next selection the addition of superimposed noun class prefixes has both a semantic (i.e., to show diminution) as well as an affective (i.e., ameliorative) function in an emotive description of an idyllic scene, one that is again diversely ‘sensationalized’ by means of ideophones: Kamphepo kazii! kakuomba. Kadzuwa kali gegerere! Kautsi m'nyumba panjira kali tolo! Kapfungo ka nyama yootcha kali guu! Mchere the-the-the! umveka. Ine m'kamwa dobvu! monga fisi ndidza. A little breeze was quietly blowing. The soft rays of the sun were shimmering down. A wisp of smoke was rising in a column from the house along the path. The pleasant aroma of roasted meat was heavy in the air. Even a generous sprinkling of salt could be tasted. My mouth began to water like that of a hyena. (‘Kamphepo’ [Soft Breeze], 1-5; Mvula, 27-28) Notice how all the pleasing images that literally flow from one to another throughout the piece are brought to a jarring halt in the final simile—one that unexpectedly introduces the disgusting (and dangerous) hyena! The ideophone the-the-the! in the second last line of the preceding poem introduces another, more prominent type of expansive device in lyric poems, and that is, reiteration. The local and/or global repetition of sounds (like the ka- prefix above), words, phrases, and even entire clauses is an essential element in the rhetorical development of most poetic traditions of the world (a notable exception being modern, redundancy-shy Western literature). We see a good instance of lexical, including ideophonic, coupled with syntactic reduplication in the excerpt below: Nkaone kwanu, Mphezi, undilole, Inetu bwenzi, Mleme, undilole. Kwanu gugululu! Gu, gu, gugululu! Mtima di, di! Monga ayimba kang'oma. Mvula wa, wa! Monga asuza kamowa; Cule rwe, rwe! Monga anola kalumo. Nkaone kwanu, Mphezi, undilole, Inetu bwenzi, Mleme, undilole. Let me see your home, Lightning, allow me, I'm your friend, the Bat, allow me. At your home the thunder rumbles, rum, rum, rumble! The heart pounds di, di! As if one beats a small drum. The rain pours down wa, wa! As if one is straining beer; The frogs croak rwe, rwe! As if one sharpens a razor. Let me see your home, Lightning, allow me. I'm your friend, the Bat, allow me. (‘Mleme ndi Mphezi’ [The Bat and Lightning], 1-8; Chadza 1970:25-26) Notice how the repetition above also performs a larger textual function by both unifying the discourse (cohesion) and by demarcating the outer boundaries of the stanza (i.e., discourse segmentation, see 10 below). 17 In a clever use of expansive, verbally iconic reduplication, the poet of the following piece evokes a vision of the slowly tottering, but deliberately purposeful gait of a chameleon: Kodi ndiponde? Kodi mpoyera? Kodi mpabwino? A, ndiponda. Kuyenda kwa namdzikambe. May I step down? Is it clear ahead? Is this a good place? Yes, let me step down. The crawl of a chameleon. Nanga mwendo uwu, Kodi mpaminga? Monga ndiponde? Napondadi. Kuyenda kwa namdzikambe. What about this leg. Are there thorns about? Should I put my foot down? I have put my foot down. The crawl of a chameleon. Atambasula mwendo Naufunya, Mwina katatu, Kapena kanayi, Asanaponde. Afuna diso la nkhono. He stretches out his leg And folds it up again, Maybe three times, Perhaps four, Before he steps down. He's searching for the eye of a snail. [i.e., acting like a procrastinator or perfectionist!] Kapena watopa, Akukupatsa mwendo Umulandire? Koma kutengeka Numulandira, Ulandira popanda Ndikuyenda kwake, Kuyenda kwa namdzikambe. Perhaps he is tired, He's giving you a leg Will you help him along? Despite the bother of it You help him along, You help him without Crawling along like he does, The crawl of a chameleon. (‘Kuyenda kwa Nadzikambe’ [The Crawl of a Chameleon], 1-24; Mvula, 13-14) Once more the larger discourse-structuring function of repetition is clearly evident in addition to the mimetic impression that it creates with respect to the mysterious animate subject of this delightful lyric poem. A final refrain (‘the crawl of the chameleon’) divides this poem into three strophes—the first two presenting the perspective of the main ‘character’ (chameleon) on the activity being poeticized, the last (longer) strophe giving the combined point of view of the narrator-poet and his audience. 2.8 Verbal Intensification This category overlaps to varying degrees with some of the others, and yet on the other hand it is distinct enough to treat on its own as a separate group of poetic devices. In other words, some of the other rhetorical features of ndakatulo poetry may also be utilized for the purposes of intensification of one type or another, especially vivid imagery (2), phonesthetics (3), and expansion (7). 18 There are other forms, however, which seem to be primarily devoted to this use, ranging from certain interjectory particles to entire utterance units, such as the rhetorical question or an exclamation. Individual words, like vocatives, ideophones, and personal pronouns, are also very prominent exponents of this aspect of Chewa lyric poetry, which prefers a forceful, more colorful manner of expression in keeping with the level of emotion and tension that the poet so personally feels about the topic of consideration. Ndakatulo are dynamic compositions, and the author normally employs a variety of techniques, whether singly or more often in concentrated combinations, to quickly infect the listener with his enthusiasm, or dejection as the case may be, and hence also to bring the influence of his point of view to bear on whatever critical issue is being lyricized. Observe how such features interact to augment the emotive tone of the following pair of selections, each of which views life from a rather different perspective—the first from a mysterious singer who is desperately longing to be born; secondly and conversely, from another who is mourning the passing of an aged loved one: Pakati-kati sin'paona, ine Mwana wa Cisumphe, Ciunguza ndaunguzadi, Ai, sin'paona zedi. Kumpoto, ai; kumwera ainso. Kumadzulo ndionako, Kummawanso mdima! Ha! Ciunguza, malo ndasowa. Khola iwe ndilandiretu! A central [suitable] place I don't see it, I, the child of the High One [God]. O Searcher, I have really searched, No, but I truly haven't found it. To the north, no; to the south, no again. To the west I look out there, To the east as well, just darkness! Ha! O Searcher, I need a place. You O Stable, please receive me! (‘Yesu Mpatseni Malo’ [Give Jesus a Place], 1-9; Chadza, 1967:11-12) The multitude of intensifying forms packed into the following short lament are marked typographically and identified by corresponding means in parentheses after each utterance: Mwafa inu agogo ndithu? Kalanga ine! mwanapiye. Wosowa abale ndi manthu yemwe! Mwaferanji inu agogo? (vocative, intensifier, rhetorical question) (exclamation, emotive appellation) (appellation, emphatic demonstrative, exclamation) (vocative, repetition, rhetorical question) Koma mwapitadi inu agogo? Ukhala wogula tikadagula. Tengeni tikagone kukhundu! Hooo! pajanso nkwayekhayekha! (emphatic conjunction, intensifier, vocative, R.Q.) (repetitive sound stress, hyperbole) (imperative, exclamation) (interjection, emphatic pronoun, exclamation) (‘Kwagwa Chauta’ [God Has Fallen], the entire poem; Mvula, 13) Have you died, O Grandmother, is it really true? Woe is me! [I'm] just a little chick Who lacks both relatives and a big mother [i.e., a female clan head]! 19 Why did you have to die, O Grandmother? Can it be that you've truly gone, O Grandmother? Were it possible to buy you [back], we would have done so. Take us along, let us all go sleep in your lap! Foolishness! we know that each one [has to travel there] by him/herself! Exclamations, ideophones, and iteration reinforce each another to intensively mark the climax of the following narrative ndakatulo: Mtima ukankha mwazi afuna kuona, Anena: Wapita kutali Galu, ndisuzumiratu. Nyani pafupi, senderu! Gwi! Mbiya zija!, Chotsu! Suzumiru! aona khoswe, bzunthu! Heart pumping blood he wants to see [inside], He says: Dog has gone far away, let me just have a peek inside. Baboon up close, right there! Grabs it! Those water pots, Removes [them]! Peeks inside! he sees the rat, bolting out! Alankhula: O! O! O! Kalanga ndathawitsa, O! Ndathawitsa khoswe nditani? Go! Go! Go! Odi-i-i-i-i! Anatero Galu uja, Galu adodoma: A! A! A! Wathawitsa kodi? He speaks: O! O! O! Curses, I've let it go, O! I've let the rat escape, what'll I do? Knock! Knock! Knock! Hallooooo! So spoke the Dog, Dog is surprised: A! A! A! You haven't let it go have you? (‘Zobisika’ [Hidden Things], 29-32; Gwengwe, 37-38) Now is this narrative, the peak point of a folkloristic plot, or is it dramatic verse—lyric action? To be sure, many of the linguistic correlates of these genres are the same and so, strictly speaking, it is not an either-or decision. But there are several indications that would lead us to favor a poetic over a prosaic reading. Most obvious is the balanced lineation (cf 1), which is of course also a product of the typographical format. Closely related to this is the regularized pattern of repetition (i.e., expansion, 7), both contiguous and displaced (the latter underlined above), which would not be typical of a naturalistic prose account (a folktale). And finally, the condensation (6) is rather too concentrated here to be representative of a normal narrative climax. But the poet has definitely played upon the latter discourse type in his expert, lyric retelling of this traditional tale. 2.9 Direct Speech This is by no means a diagnostic stylistic feature of ndakatulo poetry alone, for it is a prominent aspect of all Chewa literature, both oral and written. Nevertheless, direct (incorporated) speech cannot be discounted either, since it does appear so frequently in these lyrics. It therefore serves as a major criterion whereby the quality (e.g., naturalness) of an individual poem may be described and evaluated and also the genre as a whole in comparison with its closest equivalent in another language. 20 Ndakatulo poems provide a literary vehicle for the expression of some of the deepest personal beliefs, attitudes, moods, and feelings of their authors. In everyday life, there is a decided preference for externalizing such matters directly—person to person, as it were—rather than keeping one’s emotions bottled up inside. Thus it is not surprising that monologue and dialogue should play such an important role in these lyrics, with many compositions consisting of direct discourse to the amount of 50% or more. This has been already been indirectly exemplified in selections above, but it may be useful nevertheless to focus upon this device in a few more passages to examine more specifically how it operates. In the following narrative piece, we observe how quotations dramatize the swiftly moving account by punctuating distinct stages in the sequence of horrifying actions: Ndodo yaitali inalinso mdzanja lina. Pamene anayamba kuthawa wonse anamva: Pho-o-o! Mfumu inagwa pansi: ‘O! O! Mfumu yafa!’ Wonse anachita mantha: ‘Tigwireni!’ Anatero. A long rod [a rifle] was in the hands of one [slave raider]. When the (people) began to flee, everyone heard: Powwww! The chief fell down: ‘O! O! The Chief is dead!’ Everyone became terrified: ‘Just take us!’ They said. ‘Ife ndife Aluya, tifuna kugula akapolo.’ Anayamba kuthawa, ena analasidwa ndi mfuti, Ena anaferatu, ena anavulala nalira: ‘Mayo!’ Onse wotsala anawagwira nawanjatirira goli mkhosi. ‘We are Arabs, we want to buy slaves.’ The (people) began to flee, some were shot with the gun, Some died on the spot, others were wounded crying: ‘Help!’ All the survivors were captured and slave collars clasped tightly about their necks. (‘Ukapolo’ [Slavery], 9-16; Ulendo, 63-64) The next selection exemplifies a realistic prayer for rain and thus also represents a harmonious merger of genres, both oral and written, ancient and modern: Mfumu inanenetsa mau otere: ‘Zikomo mfumu! Ife ana anu tabweranso. Kukhosi kwathu'ku ndithu kwaumanso, Tichitireni chifundo, tifuna madzi. The chief raised his voice and uttered these words: ‘Pardon us, O Chief! We your children have come back. Our necks here have become very parched again, Please have mercy on us, we need water. ‘Nanga mbumba yanu'yi tiichita chiyani? Tipatseni madzi lero, mvula kolole! Bwenzi zikoma, zimatere! Zimatere! Madzi apamwala, waiona ndani mvula'yo! Kamtambo aka ndi ako e! Ako kamtamboye! Kanya nkako kamtambo!’ ‘Otherwise what can we do for this matrilineage of yours? Grant us some water today, may we harvest the rain! Should blessings come, let it be! Let it be so! Water from the rock, who has seen that rain? This little cloud or that one, yes! That little cloud over there! May it defecate [multiply] that little cloud of yours!’ (‘Mfunde pena Nsembe’ [Offering or Sacrifice], 20-29; Gwengwe, 24-25) Some lyric pieces are composed of direct speech in their entirety, that is, in the form of a poetic address by the author to his/her addressee(s), whether they happen to be identified or not (the latter being an instance of apostrophe). In the plaintive praise-song below, the poet fondly recalls the loving care that his mother showered upon him as a baby: 21 Nkumbukira pamene munkandisisita Pamsana, ine chimwemwe mumtima. Inu munali woyamba kundipsyompsyona, M'dziko lapansi pano amayi. I remember when you stroked me On my back, I [felt] joy in my heart. You were the first one to kiss me, In this whole wide world, Mother. Mwazi wanu unali kudya kwanga, Msana wanu unali chikwa changa. Miyendo yanu inali chikochikale, Ndipo mkokeri munali inu Mayi. Your blood was my food, Your back was my cocoon, Your legs were my ox cart, And the puller was you, Mother. (‘Kalata kwa Amayi’ [Letter to Mother], 13-20; Mvula, 22-23) Occasionally, a lyric will incorporate a distinct speech ‘part’ analogous to the role of a Greek chorus. Such lines, which are always manifested in direct discourse, normally involve a great deal of repetition to mark their special commentative function in the discourse. In the passage below, for example, a final pair of choral lines serves as a refrain to mark the close of each ‘stanza’ (an even-lined poetic composition) in the ndakatulo: Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! Ibuula mfumu. Zoli-zoli! makosana onse, Nkosi-ya-makosi yadwala; Cilaso mdula moyo calimba. Ticitira yani bethi? Mayi-wawayee! Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! The chief is groaning. Down-down all the headmen cast their eyes, The King-of-kings is sick; Pleurisy the life-cutter has prevailed. To whom will we give our honor? O weeeep--for woe is us! Huwi! Huwi! Huwi! Alira fisi, Teka-teka! Teka-teka! Atero manchici, Kweeee! Imvani nzululeyo, Onsewa n'dalosi a mayi-wawaye. Ticitira yani bethi? Mayi-wawayeee! Huwi! Huwi! Huwi! The hyena cries, Teka-teka! Teka-teka! The king-owl foretells the death, Screeech! Listen to that screech owl. All of them are predicters of woe-woe for us. To whom will we give our honor? O weeeep--for woe is us! Kokoliko! Phi,phi,phi! Thinu! Thambo lagwa! Thambo lagwa! Mayi-wawaye kulibe ananu Kunkhokwe tiyeni lowani. Ticitira yani bethi? Thambo lagwa. Cockadoodledoo! Flap-flap-flap! Stretch! The sky has fallen! The sky has fallen! O weep--for woe is us, nothing is left, you children To the granary, let's go, get in! To whom will we give our honor? The sky has fallen [the chief is dead]. (‘Thambo Lagwa’ [The Sky Has Fallen], 1-18; Chadza 1967:21-22) In addition to direct speech, this vivid ndakatulo selection illustrates all of the other characteristics of the genre previously mentioned. It is indeed an outstanding amalgamation of the linguistic features of sound, sense, and syntax to provide a literary dramatization of one of the most shocking and disruptive events that can occur in the life of most central African peoples—the loss of their paramount chief and tribal representative before God. This is as great a disaster as if the sky itself (God?) had fallen down upon them. 22 2.10 Discourse Structuration While the preceding nine poetic devices are manifested for the most part on the microlevel of discourse organization, this one pertains largely to the macro-level of a given text. Structuration is a stylistic quality that applies to the composition as a whole and one that consists of two interrelated aspects, namely, segmentation and connectivity. A ‘segmented’ text is one that is made up of a number of discrete portions, each of which exhibits a certain internal unity and yet also contributes in some definite way to the thematic integrity and progression of the whole. Such unity is normally both semantic and formal in nature, giving rise to semantic coherence and formal cohesion respectively. In an instance of poetry, the distinct segments would correspond to the sequence of verses or strophes that comprise the complete piece. Some poetic traditions display a hierarchical type of organization, thus necessitating a differentiation among the various strata of structure (e.g., from smallest to largest: verse << strophe/stanza << canto). This does not appear to be the case with Chewa ndakatulo, however, where but a single level of structure between the individual line and the whole seems to be sufficient (i.e., a poetic paragraph, or ‘strophe’, with irregular lineation, as distinct from evenly-lined ‘stanzas’). Just as there is no preferred line length in these lyrics (cf 1), so also one cannot posit a ‘standard’ size of strophe. Some ndakatulo are not divided up into segments at all, although a discourse analysis usually reveals several points where the text could be broken up, based on the criteria outlined below. Generally strophes tend to vary between four and eight lines, but some may be considerably longer than this in keeping with the author's personal preference and artistic purpose. Occasionally the strophes (where present) of a particular poem will be very similar to one another with respect to their number of lines and syllables, but this is usually not the case, especially in the more modern compositions. The lyric Nsanamirakande (Mvula, 78-79, partially cited in 6 above), for example, consists of five verses of varied length, i.e., 4 - 6 - 5 - 5 - 6 lines. The reasons for segmenting a given ndakatulo in a particular way seem to be quite varied as well. In the case of some poems, it is purely a formal matter as the line groupings are made to correspond to a previously determined arrangement. In situations 23 where such divisions appear to be rather arbitrary, a repeated refrain, or line of closure, is often used to mark the breaks in a more distinctive manner than by simply employing an extra measure of blank space (e.g., the two final lines of each stanza of the preceding poem). The linguistic determinant of a poem’s construction may be more sophisticated, as we observe in the following selection where each strophe manifests a distinct lexical, syntactic, or rhythmic pattern that presumably could have been continued for as long as the poet so desired in keeping with his communicative objectives. Note, for example, the lively and condensed, physiological, ideophonic strophe one versus the expanded, more philosophical strophe two; also significant perhaps are the differing initial and final sound patterns that prevail in each poetic unit: Akangoti balamanthu! Mthumanzi myuu! Mkamwa mate ndee! Miyendo dzanzi ndii! Mtima thi! thi! thi! As soon as she comes into view, right here! Apprehension [seizes you] completely! [Your] mouth saliva, full up! [Your] legs, cramping tighten up! [Your] heart (goes) pound! pound! pound! Akakufulatira ngati wakuyang'ana. Akamalankhula ngati akuyimba. Akamayenda ngati akunjanja. Akamapita ngati akudza kuno. When she turns away, it's as if she's looking at you. When she speaks, it's as if she's singing. When she walks, it's as if she's bounding along. When she goes away, it's as if she's coming here. (‘Chiphadzuwa’ [Beautiful Girl], 1-9; Mvula, 56) The majority of lyric poems manifest a more logical, or semantically based, system of arrangement. Thus a subsequent strophe may begin with a shift in topic, a new focal participant, a different speaker, a change in narrative action/scene, an altered perspective, a variation in the prevailing mood, and so forth. Not infrequently several of these cues will converge to make the structural break even more apparent. In some instances the strophic boundaries of a given ndakatulo are demarcated overtly by means of a recursion of ideas, whether synonymous or exact. There may be a significant formal or semantic reiteration at the beginning of successive units (anaphora), at their respective endings (epiphora), or at the opening and close of a given segment (inclusio). Occasionally, these discourse-marking devices may be combined to produce an especially distinct and tightly constructed poem, as we see in the next example: Tiyeni ku mathero, Adaikanji Mphambe? Tione tonse malekezero, Cidenga cifukata dziko. Akumwamba ayang'anitsa, Thwani-thwani timaso tao. Aonanji osatileka? Let's go to the limits, [For] why did the Almighty set them in place? Let's all (go) see the extremities, The big roof which embraces the earth. The ones up above are gazing down, Twinkle-twinkle [shine] their little eyes. Why do they keep looking at us? 24 Tikaone kumalekezero: Usana cidiso cacikulu, Usiku maso oculuka. Alonderanji osatilola? Tiyeni ku mathero. Let's go see the extremities: By day a great big eye, By night a great many eyes. Why do they keep following us so closely? Let's go to the limits. Muli m'tulo ananu, Ku mathero kuli zinthu, Cibwana ca-mcombo-lende. Mizimu inamanga dziko, Kwa iyo kulibe njira. Nyanja yosalekeza, Momwemo dziko la mizimu. Bwato bukafika apa Mizimu igwira ndithu; Kuti ileke tithira nsembe. Ananu dziko ili, Kumapeto kuli minsi Yocirikiza dziko lingagwe. Koteroko nkupita kuti? Lekani za mathero You're dreaming you children, At the limits there are some [strange] things, [That idea is as] foolish as playing with one's umbilical cord. The spirits constructed the world, There is no pathway to them. A boundless sea, Wherein [one finds] the land of the spirits. If a boat arrives there The spirits will grab it for sure; To get them to turn loose, we pour offerings. You children, this land, At its end there are pestles [supports] To prop up the world lest it collapse. So where do you think you're going? Forget about [going] to the limits. (‘Tikaone Malekezero a Dziko’ [Let's Go See the Limits of the World], the entire poem; Chadza 1970:37-38) The key word of this metaphysical lyric, the subject of which is explored in graphic earthly images, is mathero ‘limits’. This is the point which young people must not pass in their inquisitive search for wisdom so that they do not provoke the ancestors by probing beyond what is traditionally accepted and believed. This term thus signals the respective onset and conclusion of each strophe, the mid point of the poem being marked by a transitional ‘hinge’ utterance (line 13) where we find a pronounced shift—in speaker, illocutionary tone, as well as thematic perspective. In closing, we might just briefly consider some possible reasons why a poet would decide not to structure his composition in the form of strophes, that is, why certain ndakatulo are left un-segmented. The first is quite easy to see: Iwe Mulanje, Ndiwe mfumu Ya mapiri onse. Zobvala zako Ziposa ena onse. Thupi lako Pena lobiriwira, Pena loyera, ukhala Pampando wa miyala Ya mtengo wapatali. Msonga yako Nthawi zina, Imalasa mitambo Magazi ake Nakusambitsa, Nkulowa m'mitsempha Ya dzikoli; Nipereka moyo, Zogona zitsitsimuka. You Mulanje [i.e., the highest peak in Malawi], You are the chief Of all mountains. Your clothes Surpass [those of] all others. Your body In places bright green, In places white, is seated Upon a throne of rocks Of the highest value. Your peak At times, Pierces the clouds Their blood Bathes you, And enters the veins Of this land; Which give life, To revive those that are asleep [i.e., plants and animals after a dry season]. (‘Phiri la Mulanje’ [Mount Mulanje], the entire poem; Mvula, 70) 25 In this case the strophic length is deliberately exaggerated and must, of course, remain whole to create an isomorphic typographical image of the tall topic of this eulogy. Another reason for retaining the poetic cloth uncut pertains more to the development of its principal theme, as we see illustrated below: Mwana wamasiye, Milomo yake sendekesendeke! Pamimba pali pefu! Maso ali mbuu! ndi njala. Msana uli pamtunda, Kabudula ndi msanza zokhazokha. Uku ndi uko amwaza maso ake, Kufuna woti ampatse katambala Kogulira gaga ndi utaka. Akalandira kanthu, Nkhope yake iwala. Akanyozedwa agwetsa nkhope Nang'ung'udza: ‘Kodi nkufuna kwanga?’ The orphan child, His lips peeled and full of sores, His stomach is just a hollow cavern, His eyes are clear-gray with hunger. His back[bone] protrudes, His shorts are complete rags. Here and there he casts his eyes, Looking for someone to give him a penny To buy a meal of husks and cheap fish. When he receives anything, His face lights up. When scorned he looks down And mutters to himself: ‘So can I help it?’ (‘Masiye’ [The orphan], the entire poem; Mvula, 72-73) The poet could have divided his mournful lyric into two at line 7 where there is a shift in point of view (from objective to subjective) and description turns to action. But this would interrupt and diminish the essential build-up of tension that he is progressively stimulating as he piles image upon image to paint a picture which evokes a burden of compassion within the reader. It is an emotive load that reaches its peak in the pitiful— yet also implicitly critical—question of the very last line. A slightly different rhetorical impulse is at work in the formal composition of the final selection [explanatory comments are in brackets in the English version]: Ndiziyenderera amayi, Ndiyimba ndani? Ndaima ndekha amayi, Ndilibe wondiponya patsogolo. Nsalu zalekaleka Mphambe adatsomphola. Wophanso mtima wanga, Adakabzala chinangwa. Ndi ilo tsoka: Ndekha m'mimba mwa amayi, Misonzi iyenda pamasaya Msana ndi usiku. Chilindekha ndiyimba ndani? Lichikhala lotsekula khomolo, Namamka ndi miyendo; Mwana wanune mudakamtsekulira Ndzapume, ndzakhale nanu. Ndiyimba ndani amayi? I must go wander off, Mother [the singer's deceased parent], Whom can I sing for? I am [left] standing alone, Mother, I have no one to cast me on ahead [care for me in the future]. The cloth of ‘let it be—let it be’ [the singer's child] The Almighty has snatched out of my hands. The One who also killed my heart [took away the desire to live], He planted [buried my child] like a cassava stalk. If that isn't misfortune: I, the only one from the womb of my mother [no siblings], Tears flow down [my] checks Day and night. I'm abandoned, whom can I sing for? If only the door would be open, I would depart with legs [die in good health, without an illness]; This child of yours, if only you'd open the door for her I would rest, I would be with you. Whom can I sing for, Mother? (‘Chilindekha’ [Abandoned], the entire poem; Mvula, 61) 26 This sorrowful dirge by a mother who has lost her only child is distinguished by a strong nasal (m/n) alliterative pattern (to mimic the sound of weeping) and dense, at times cryptic figurative language (to express her deepest feelings). Again, a break could have been made in the middle (at line 9) when the singer pauses for a moment to reflect on her wretched condition. But she cannot wait to carry on with the outpouring of her bitter protest as she longs to join her beloved ones in a life, albeit diminished, beyond the grave. The continuous, somewhat detached style (both rhythmically and semantically) of this ndakatulo is an expertly fashioned imitation of an actual oral lament in which the poet directs an unending stream of mournful complaints to the world of the ancestors—and ultimately, to the Creator himself. 3 ON THE COMMUNICATIVE FUNCTIONS OF NDAKATULO POETRY First of all, it is necessary to observe the basic similarity that underlies the closely related genres of ‘lyrics’ (ndakatulo) and ‘songs’ (nyimbo) in Chichewa with respect to both the language used and also the cultural setting either tacitly assumed or expressly evoked during performance: We can find lyric poems in various types of songs. In the village people sing such songs at funerals, while drinking beer, when on a hunt for game, while herding cattle, when pounding out maize meal, at a wedding, when offering sacrifices, during the initiation of matured girls, while rowing a boat, and when doing all sorts of other tasks. These songs are sung to express sorrow, joy, frustration, apology, thanksgiving, rebuke, and instruction. Sometimes songs are sung to help a person forget about the affliction of work in general. (Mvula, v) Malunga’s definitional poem Ndakatulo Nchiyani? (‘What Is a Lyric?’—see below) makes the further point that any given poetic creation is free to incorporate snatches of just about any other verbal art form, whether oral or written, macro- or micro-structural in terms of genre—for example: enigmas, idioms, figures of speech, songs, folktales, proverbs, histories, riddles, allegories, and philosophical sayings. From these references we gather that ndakatulo are an artistic as well as an emphatic means of externalizing one’s emotions, attitudes, opinions, and ideas as they concern virtually any deeply-felt situation and circumstance in life. These range from the most traumatic, exciting, or secret experiences to those that are exactly the opposite—the serene, boring, and obvious. Each and every lyric poem ‘comes from the heart’ (Mvula, 27 v), but as a rule the poet ‘does not sit down [deliberately] to compose a ndakatulo’ (ibid:loc cit). Rather, in most cases the composition comes almost naturally, or spontaneously, just like speaking—or even crying! In serving this preeminent expressive function, the Chewa lyrics tend to cover a broader range of secular subjects that what we normally find in the biblical literature and are thus applicable to a greater number of ‘ordinary’ occasions and human situations. However, ndakatulo are not composed and performed simply to pass the time of day (though they may indeed also do that) or to give random expression to one’s emotions or poetic inclinations. Most of these lyrics manifest an important overt or implicit didactic purpose—appropriately offering instruction and advice as it applies to everyday experience in central Africa. As one poet defines the genre: A lyric poem is an artistic and valuable lesson, a profound skill that concerns especially the behavior of people in all of their diverse experiences. (Gwengwe, v) Similarly, another artist describes these poems as ‘the foundation of teaching [appropriate for] human conduct’ (Mvula, vii). There may thus be a related ideological, or religious, motivation that is realized at times, especially where ancient, pre-Western customs, mores, and traditions are concerned: In his lyric, [the poet] also shows us the faith of our ancestors. Accordingly, he advises the young to go on believing in the clan spirits…[and] he warns them not to act foolishly by despising the words of the elders… (Mvula, vii) The conceptually dense, allusive, idiomatic, and sometimes opaque style that characterizes ndakatulo compositions, coupled with their treatment of crucial, and often controversial topics, ‘helps to sharpen the brain and to magnify the glory of the [Chichewa] language’ (Malunga, iv). Indeed, in the preface to his collection of lyrics, a poet will often invite his readers/hearers to participate in this mutually educative process: Perhaps we can teach one another some things that we normally do not pay much attention to in the routine of daily life. (Malunga, iv) Obviously, in a written work the audience is involved only indirectly in the performance, by way of anticipation or imagination. But if people were not really interested in reading or listening to ndakatulo, they would not provide a viable market for such poetry, and the poet in turn would not be encouraged to develop his verbal skills any further, at least not 28 publicly or in print. Malunga refers to his own artistic learning experience through the process of ‘lyricizing lyrics’ (kulakatula ndakatulo) with the following proverb (ibid: iv): You readers must take pity on me and try to set me straight, realizing that ‘when you are a child, you must begin a new garden plot on [soft] sandy soil’ (i.e., ukakhala mwana, mphanje umayambira pa mchenga). Closely related to the expressive and didactic functions is a certain cathartic, or representative, purpose whereby the poet speaks, or sings, on behalf of Every(wo)man— to help people work through and give lyric voice to the highs as well as the lows of life: When reading these lyrics, you find that the authors touch upon the life of each one of us. They tell about love, envy, death, education, creation, tradition, and similar things. (Mvula, vii). Malunga puts the case in rather more poetic terms as follows (iv): As we all know, a person’s life does not always follow a straight path, nor is it all pure joy—but often it is a path of mud and stumps. Likewise in [these] lyrics…we find tears, shouts, ululations, laughter, sarcasm, and many other expressions of human experience. The way in which one personally feels about or deals with such vital emotions and varied life-experiences should not be forgotten or internalized. The ndakatulo lyric, whether self-composed or simply appropriated from oral tradition, is an effective means of etching the event upon one’s memory for ready recall—and to call it to the attention of the society at large. Thus the performance—recitation, reading, or singing—of poetry effects a mnemonic function for many people. As Mvula explains (vi): Perhaps a person has a story that he does not want to be forgotten. In order to preserve that story, he takes its main points and composes a song or a lyric poem. Into such a song he places words appropriate for reaching one’s heart with his purpose, yet it must not be too transparent. Since a lyric-song is short and sweet to hear, it is able to quickly spread far and wide. In a similar vein, Chadza observes (1970:101): To store up a lot of things in one’s heart alone is difficult because there will always be something that is forgotten. For this reason, many lyrics help to call certain events to mind since people are able to sing them or speak them as if they were singing (i.e., recited with a rhythmic beat). It is here that we encounter what at first seems to be somewhat of a contradiction, or a possible conflict in purposes. There is, as was mentioned earlier, a definite didactic element to most ndakatulo, and yet this function must not appear too obvious or heavyhanded. Otherwise, it may spoil a certain enigmatic quality that should also be present to entice members of the audience to ‘solve’ the verbal or semantic mystery for themselves, each one personally. Indeed, this preference for an indirect and allusive manner of 29 expression, which at times borders on the esoteric, is quite characteristic of the genre—as well as of traditional oral literature in general. As Gwengwe, a master of this art form, puts it (vi): A lyric poem absolutely requires some deep thoughts and ideas … Certain lyrics have this intention of telling or explaining something in a secret, obscure, or enigmatic way so that it really sticks to the reader’s mind as he attempts to perceive its main points. At times such poetic evasion or indirection is necessary due to a predominant affective or imperative intention. In other words, the poet employs the lyric as an artistic, hence implicit, means of directing or modifying the thinking and behavior of some person or group. What is it, Malunga asks in this regard, that enables these lyrics ‘to cause people who offend others to cry [due to shame] but to cause people who love peace and justice to rejoice [for being publicly praised]’ (13)? Rather than to overtly attack, warn, or rebuke an offender or violator of some sort, a culturally more fitting and effective way of dealing with interpersonal problems is to express one’s criticism or censure indirectly, and more palatably, in the words of an appropriate ndakatulo, which is—or at least was— typically sung aloud during ordinary community activities. Mvula cites some examples (vi): Whether in the village or in town, you find a person either resenting or admiring the actions of a certain individual. At times then that person [the former] is at a loss for words [lit, ‘dries up in the mouth’] and is unable to speak directly about the matter. So what he or she does is to compose a song and sing it, perhaps while they are drinking beer together or pounding out maize meal. When the offender hears that song he [she] either gets the point himself or his friends give him a hand and tell him that it means such and such. Just think, how often does it happen that women complain about the good or bad behavior of their companions at the common pounding ground? How often is it that a young man complains to his father-in-law by sing a song as together they carve grain mortars, cut bamboo strips, or sew sleeping mats? Lyric songs are an excellent way of talking about what is really on one’s mind [lit, ‘about the things (sticking) in one’s neck’]. However, one must not forget the fundamental aesthetic motivation that underlies all of these communicative functions. They are patently poetic compositions and consequently there is always a major emphasis upon the particular artistic form in which the verbal message is cast: To lyricize lyrics and to correctly perceive their purpose is a very desirable skill…[for] ndakatulo are pleasurable and uplifting experiences…. [They] are most attractive to one’s heart. (Gwengwe, v) Mvula adds (vii): [The poets] try to decorate their writings with idioms as well as ideophones. These provide the ‘spice’ for the lyrics of our language. 30 In short, ndakatulo poems demonstrate a vital concern for the ears (and other senses) as well as for the hearts and minds of their target constituency. This sensory and emotive inclination does not mean that stylistic mastery is an end in itself or of ultimate concern. Underlying this verbal virtuosity and the playful, often idiosyncratic usages, there is the recognition that all of these poems in one way or another serve a much broader and deeper purpose. In a moving lyric eulogy to a fellow mlakatuli poet, one of the pioneers in litericizing the originally oral genre (i.e., the well-know Malawian writer E J Chadza), Malunga (1990:41) exclaims: Mudachikweza pamatanda akukhupuka Chichewa. Mudachikokomeza chikhalidwe chathu. You elevated and enriched the Chichewa language. You embellished our [common] experience! Stirring lyrics that either laud or lament the vicissitudes and vagaries of human life in artful, attractive, accented language—that’s what the ndakatulo are all about. Perhaps I can best summarize the preceding discussion on literary style as it relates to the larger rhetorical purpose and social setting of Chewa poetry by reproducing a relevant piece that was composed by one of the current masters—Malunga’s Kuimba kwa Mlakatuli (‘The Song of the Lyric Poet’, 1990:45): Kuzunaku, kokomaku Ndiye kuimba kwa mlakatuli Wa maso owona zobisika Ndi makutu omva zonong’onezedwa Nyimbo yosamuka pamilomo yake Njamavume osalazidwa ndi luso Ndinso nthetemya zokometsetsa. Uthenga wotuluka nlipenga lake La nyanga ya ngoma Ngokhathamira ndi ukachenjede ndithu. Poti ngofulula ndi ukatswiri Ngati kabota kokupira mawere am’matolo. Mikoko yogonera itama ukadaulo wake wonola Mawu ngati muvi pathanthwe. Makosana openya chokweza atamanda luso lake Loluma nawuzira ngati khoswe. Ntchembere nazo ziguntchira Pomva masalimo ake okhutala ndi chidzudzulo. Kumadambo osunga abusa, Kumitsinje yogubuduka m’zithukuluzi, Kumagomo okongoletsa dziko, Mawu ake ndimphepo yachiuso M’mitima yopunthidwa ndi mazunzo. So sweet, so very pleasant Is the singing of the poet Who has eyes that sees secrets And ears that hears whispers. The songs that are transferred from his lips Have choruses skillfully folded in Along with the attractive sound of rattles. The message that emerges from his trumpet (Made) from the horn of a kudu Is compacted as by the rain with great cunning. For it is brewed by an expert Like sweet beer into which rich millet is stirred. The elders of old praise his sharpened insight The words that are like an arrow (ground) upon rock Headmen with vision exalt his expertise Which bites, then blows thereon like a rat to soothe the pain. Old women too dance enthusiastically When they hear his ‘psalms’ so thick with rebuke. At the lowlands where herdsmen are keeping watch, At the streams that roll along beneath dense thickets, At the hills which decorate the land, His words are like a soothing breeze In hearts beaten down with affliction. (‘Kuimba kwa Mlakatuli’ [The Song of the Lyric Poet]; Malunga 1990:45) 31 The explicit mention of ‘psalms’ in the preceding piece suggests that essential link in lyric structure and style which encourages us to experiment with the ndakatulo genre in the expression of certain appropriate biblical passages in the Chichewa language. I have gone into some detail in the preceding survey of ndakatulo poems to reveal the great communicative possibilities of this dynamic oratorical art form.11 The preceding selections have illustrated a wide range of topics and themes that encompass the full gamut of human thoughts, attitudes, experiences, and emotions as encountered everyday in Central Africa. These are expressed in a correspondingly broad assortment of compositional types, each of which in its own way represents a skillful integration of content and form to convey in a highly dramatic style the intended message of the poet for a specific social setting and (inter)personal situation.12 Thus we see the potential at least for utilizing the rich poetic structure and style of a Bantu language as a vehicle for transmitting the Word of God through a literary mode of translation.13 4 TRANSLATING THE LORD’S PRAYER INTO CHICHEWA— A COMPARATIVE EXAMINATION ‘Style’, good or bad, is an explicitly relational or comparative notion—it cannot be either appreciated or appraised in isolation. Text A, for example, can be stylistically evaluated, whether overtly or indirectly, only in relation to text B. For this reason, two different Chichewa versions are presented below in addition to the poetic, ‘lyricized’ composition of the Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9-13)—that is, in order to critically assess the latter in a fuller way.14 First, the original Greek text (GT) is reproduced, along with a very literal back-translation into English, then two standard vernacular versions are given: the old (1923) literal missionary translation, Buku Lopatulika (BL) ‘Sacred Book’, and a recent (1998) idiomatic ‘popular-language’ version, Buku Loyera (BY) ‘Holy Book’. Both texts are formatted as they appear on the published page of print (but without verse numbers, as in the original). These are followed then by the poetic rendition (PR), which has been specially composed for the purposes of this comparative study. I will focus upon the last, the ndakatulo text in an effort to demonstrate the communicative potential of this sort of ‘literary’ translation of the Scriptures, at least for 32 certain audience groups and/or special occasions of use. The remainder of the present section will be devoted to a selective stylistic comparison and assessment of the results. This comparative study is intended to lay the groundwork for the final portion of this essay in which I overview several practical implications of the current experiment and suggest some directions that future research in the field might fruitfully explore. 4.1 Four texts for comparison Greek NT Text (GT) Πάτερ ἡμῶν ὁ ἐν τοῖς οὐρανοῖς· ἁγιασθήτω τὸ ὄνομά σου, ἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σου, γενηθήτω τὸ θέλημά σου, ὡς ἐν οὐρανῷ καὶ ἐπὶ γῆς· Our Father, the one in the heavens, let it be sanctified your name; let it come your kingdom; let it happen your will, as in heaven also on earth. τὸν ἄρτον ἡμῶν τὸν ἐπιούσιον δὸς ἡμῖν σήμερον· καὶ ἄφες ἡμῖν τὰ ὀφειλήματα ἡμῶν, ὡς καὶ ἡμεῖς ἀφήκαμεν τοῖς ὀφειλέταις ἡμῶν· καὶ μὴ εἰσενέγκῃς ἡμᾶς εἰς πειρασμόν, ἀλλὰ ῥῦσαι ἡμᾶς ἀπὸ τοῦ πονηροῦ. Our daily bread give us today; and forgive us our debts, as also we forgive our debtors; and do not bring us into testing, but deliver us from the evil (one). Buku Lopatulika (BL) Atate wathu wa Kumwamba, Dzina lanu liyeretsedwe. Ufumu wanu udze . Kufuna kwanu kucitidwe, monga Kumwamba comweco pansi pano. Mutipatse ife lero chakudya cathu calero. Ndipo mutikhululukire mangawa athu, monga ifenso takhululukira amangawa anthu. Ndipo musatitengere kokatiyesa, koma mutipulumutse kwa woipayo. Our Father of the Place Above, Name yours may it be holied. Kingship yours may it come. Your will may it be done, as in Heaven the same way down here. Give us today our food of today. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven creditors of us. And do not take us to where [they] test us, but deliver us from the evil one. Buku Loyera (BY) Atate athu akumwamba, dzina lanu lilemekezedwe. Ufumu wanu udze. Kufuna kwanu kuchitidwe, monga kumwamba chomwecho pansi pano. Mutipatse ife lero chakudya chathu chamasikuwonse. Mutikhululukire ife machimo athu, monga ifenso takhululukira otilakwira. Ndipo musalole kuti tigwe m’zotiyesa, koma mutipulumutse kwa Woipa uja. Our Father of up above, may you name be honored. May your kingdom come. May your will be done, as in heaven the same way down here. Give use today food ours of every day. Forgive us sins our, as we too have forgiven those who wrong us. And do not allow that we fall into things that test us, but deliver us from the Evil one. 33 [For a kingship, power and glory are yours forever.] [Pakuti ufumu, mphamvu ndi ulemerero ndi zanu kwamuyaya.] Poetic Rendition (PR) Inu ‘Tate wakumwamba, lanu dzina lilemekezeke, wanu ufumu ukhazikike, zanu zofuna zichitikedi— pansipo n’ kumwambako. Oh Daddy, the one up above, your name, may it be honored, your kingdom, may it be established, your wishes, may they really be done— down here ‘n up there in that place above. Choonde Atate, tigawireni lero chakudya chokwanira moyo uno. Milandu yathu, inu mutimasuleko, nafenso tichitire anthu momwemo. M’zotiyesayesa, ayi ife tisamiremo. Koma kwa Mdani wathu, Woipayo, tipulumutseni masikuwonse phuu! Please Father, apportion us today food sufficient for this life. [All] our offenses may you release us [from], and let us also do the same for others. Into things that keep testing us, no, let us not sink. But from our Enemy, that Evil One, deliver us all the days—all together! Ndithu, ufumu ndi mphamvu’tu, ulemunso n’zanu kwamuyayaya! Truly, kingship and power indeed, honor too, are yours forever‘n‘ever! It is not necessary to dwell on the many major and minor differences of form (structure and style) among the three Chichewa versions, for these are fairly obvious, even in the literal English back-translation. Not unexpectedly, the BL version is the most difficult text to understand. There are five problematic areas in this regard—namely, areas where some obvious infelicity with regard to vernacular usage results in a rendering that is either alien to idiomatic speech or which can be misunderstood. Some of these have been corrected in the BY version, and more would have been dealt with if this were not already a very familiar passage of Scripture. The various difficulties are summarized below by means of annotated examples: a) Unnatural sentence syntax, e.g., Atate wathu wa Kumwamba, Dzina lanu liyeretsedwe. ‘Our Father of the Place Above, Name yours may it be holied’. – Problem: concordial disagreement (i.e., Atate wathu wa Atate athu a, BY); liyeretsedwe ‘let it be made clean/white/pure’ – Problem: the passive construction is not used nearly is frequently in Chichewa as in Greek or English, certainly not with the verb liyeretsedwe, which is just as foreign-sounding in Chichewa as it is in English (i.e., ‘hallowed’). The verb used in the BY sounds somewhat more natural, i.e., lilemekezedwe ‘may it be honored [by…]’; however, the direct passive form is still out of place. PR’s stative (indirect passive) construction is more natural (lilemekezeke ‘may it be honored’). b) Unusual discourse grammar, e.g., Ndipo mutikhululukire … Ndipo musatitengere… ‘And then forgive us … And then do not take us…’ – Problem: there is an overuse of the inter-sentence transitional conjunction ndipo, which is normally found in oral narrative discourse, but even then not with the same frequency of the Greek κα± ‘and’. One of these links is removed in the BY version, and 34 both of them in the PR text, which is more natural according to genre, that is, in a prayer text when topically differing requests are being made in sequence c) Unfamiliar vocabulary and collocation, e.g., takhululukira amangawa athu ‘we have forgiven our creditors’ – Problem: mangawa ‘debts’ is an archaic term that is unfamiliar to most younger, and even many middle-aged speakers. Furthermore, the expression amangawa ‘those [of] debts’ refers not to fellow debtors, as in the original Greek, but to their opposite, the creditors, thus making this petition sound rather strange indeed (for those who happen to know this out-of-date dialect). Finally, one does not ‘forgive’ (-khululukira) a debt in idiomatic Chichewa; rather, one ‘unties’ (-masula) it. Thus BY puts the intended meaning directly: takhulukira otilakwira ‘we have forgiven those who wrong us’. d) Literalism, e.g., musatitengere kokatiyesa ‘do-not-take-us to-go-and-test-us’ – Problem: In the case of the first verb, the formal Chichewa correspondent refers to a literal, physical carrying (cf KJV: ‘lead us not’; GT: ‘do not bring us’). An attempt was made at least in the BL to replace the original Greek noun that follows (πειρασ ν) by a more natural verbal expression. Unfortunately, as the backtranslation indicates, this turns out to give the wrong (but commonly understood) impression that ‘God’ is the one who personally tests us, which the original does not imply. The BY comes up with a nice, albeit rather prosaic restructuring here: musalole kuti tigwe m’zotiyesa ‘do not allow that we fall into things that test us’. e) Poor typographical format – Problem: It is very difficult to read a text printed in the standard Bible format of two narrow and justified columns of relatively small print (e.g., BL). The hyphens break up the flow of the passage, while the block-like formation obliterates the rhythmic lineation of the original Greek text. The situation is somewhat better in the BY version, i.e., the print style is larger and more legible, and no hyphenation is used. However, the line arrangement is not always improved, especially where indented ‘overlappings’ are required due to the narrow width of the double print columns, e.g., Ndipo musalole kuti tigwe m’zotiyesa, koma mutipulumutse kwa Woipa uja. And do not allow that we fall into things that test us, but deliver us from the Evil one. The ‘Disciples’ Prayer’ (a more accurate designation for this particular petitionary discourse) is clearly more comprehensible in Chichewa as rendered by the BY. But this version, not surprisingly, is still rather closely tied to the familiar ecclesiastical and liturgical wording that was used by its long-serving predecessor, the BL. It takes a complete break with the established verbal tradition to enable one to come to grips with the artistic dimension and rhetorical dynamics of the prayer as recorded by Matthew. That was one reason for the poetic version, namely, to move people to think more about what they are saying as they utter this most familiar and intimate of prayers—and to get them to appreciate it more, that is, how they are actually addressing their Father in heaven. 4.2 Evaluation: The Lord’s Prayer—Lyricized in Chichewa 35 In an earlier section of this paper, ten prominent features of Chewa ndakatulo lyrics were identified and illustrated: balanced lineation, vivid imagery, phonesthetic appeal, syntactic transposition, concept specification, formal condensation, textual expansion, verbal intensification, direct speech, and discourse structuration. Two of these are quite clearly represented in the PR version above—namely, those of balanced lineation and direct speech (the latter by virtue of the fact that the entire passage is a prayer). Examples of the other typical stylistic devices are given below; little comment is necessary since the poetic nature of the text and its translation is largely self-explanatory: Vivid imagery The focus of the original direct divine action in ‘do not bring/lead us into trial/testing’ is shifted somewhat in the PR (following also the BY) to avoid any possible imputation of blame or evil motivation to ‘our Father’. This is replaced by a more graphic figurative expression, which is coupled with an emphatic negative form and an explicit personal pronoun to augment the emotive element of this petition: M’ zotiyesayesa, ayi ife tisamiremo Into things that keep testing us, no, let us not sink [as into thick mud or deep water]. Phonesthetic appeal Assonance based on the vowel /u/ and related semivowel /w/ functions to highlight the following climactic poetic couplet in which the utterance-final ideophone phonically reflects and reinforces the main verb: Koma kwa Mdani wathu, Woipayo, tipulumutseni masikuwonse phuu! But from our Enemy, that Evil One, deliver us all the days—all together! The ideophone phuu! also evokes the image of a liquid mass (such as a downpour of rain) filling up a large container—transferred in this case to the fulfillment of an indefinite period of time. The last line is also foregrounded phonologically by virtue of the fact that it breaks the end-line rhyme in /-o/ which distinguishes the second, need-oriented strophe of the prayer (compare the line-initial rhyme of strophe one, where /u/ is also prominent). Syntactic transposition The emphasis conveyed by the initial series of three asyndetic aorist passive imperatives in Greek is reproduced an analogous Chichewa construction, but with the trio of stative 36 verbs placed in utterance-final rather than initial position. The centering effect of the chiasmus that appears in the Greek, which foregrounds the key term ‘kingdom [of God]’, is marked in Chichewa by a front-shifted personal possessive pronoun (which agrees concordially with the vocative Inu of line one). This correspondence serves to highlight the /u/ vowel assonance of the key term ‘kingdom’ (ufumu) of line three, which stands at the middle of the prayer’s initial, divinely-focused strophe. This phonological pattern in /u/ also complements that which is found at the close of both the second and third strophes: Πάτερ ἡμῶν ὁ ἐν τοῖς οὐρανοῖς· ἁγιασθήτω τὸ ὄνομά σου, ἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σου; γενηθήτω τὸ θέλημά σου, ὡς ἐν οὐρανῷ καὶ ἐπὶ γῆς· Wanu Ufumu ukhazikike. ‘Your Kingdom may it be established.’ Conceptual specification An instance of such semantic development is found in a clarification of the original Greek ‘evil person/thing’ (i.e., an ambiguous term, τοℜ πονϕροℜ) by an appositive construction: Mdani wathu, Woipayo ‘our Enemy, that Evil One’. This makes the expression a more obvious reference to Satan—Evil personified. The original ‘daily bread’ (τὸν ἄρτον ἡ ῶν τὸν ἐπιούσιον) is specified as chakudya chokwanira moyo uno ‘food sufficient for this life’. Formal condensation The universal locative expression of BY: monga kumwamba chomwecho pansi pano as in heaven the same way down here, . is poetically reduced somewhat through contraction in PR [with the filled gaps shown in brackets], including an implicit comparative notion: pansip[an]o n[di]’ kumwamba[u]ko down here ‘n up there in that place above. Textual expansion As pointed out above, the original ‘tests/trials’ (πειρασ ν) is extended in PR by an iterative verbal term with corresponding semantic implications (i.e., ‘keep on testing’) 37 and also by the addition of an emphatic negative particle plus an explicit personal pronoun: M’ zotiyesayesa, ayi ife tisamiremo Into things that keep testing us, no, let us not sink. Verbal intensification Though not found in most reliable manuscripts, the traditional conclusion to the Lord’s Prayer was included in brackets in BY (surprisingly not in the BL) as well as in PR. The latter is intensified by an initial emphatic interjection, assonance (/u/), a medial augmentative suffix, and a final ideophonic expression (which ends in a different prominent vowel, /a/): Ndithu, ufumu ndi mphamvu’tu, ulemunso n’zanu kwamuyayaya! Truly, kingship and power indeed, honor too, are yours forever’n’ever! Discourse structuration There is a clear inclusio that demarcates the initial strophe of the prayer in Chichewa (i.e., -kumwamba- ‘heaven’). The second (speaker-directed) half of the prayer is also audibly distinguished from the first (addressee-directed) portion by an opening particle of emphatic appeal coupled with a reiterated vocative: Choonde Atate, tigawireni lero, Please Father, apportion us today, However, in this case the familiar form ‘Tate ‘Daddy’ (line one) is replaced by the more formal Atate ‘Father’ here because this seems more appropriate where a shift in the prayer is being made to personal requests. The structure of this distinct pericope is also well delineated on the printed page by relatively balanced lineation and the division into three unequal strophic units. The format thus serves to distinguish the Lord’s Prayer from the expository discourse in which it has been embedded in Matthew’s gospel. As the preceding examples illustrate, in addition to the obvious formal divergencies, the corresponding aesthetic disparity among the three Chichewa translations is considerable as well. Both the BL and BY texts can be more or less understood—the former with much greater difficulty—but there is relatively little that is verbally distinctive, attractive, forceful, or memorable about them, not in comparison with the poetic version. The PR has a noticeably higher rhetorical impact and appeal, especially when spoken or recited aloud. Of course, the old BL translation of the disciples’ prayer is 38 beloved and has long been memorized for liturgical and devotional recitation, thus fulfilling the important ritual function of communication. But do people really comprehend what they are uttering to the Lord? For example, the appeal Musatitengere kokatiyesa ‘Do not take us along to go and try/test us’ (BL) certainly presents listeners and users alike with a significant interpretive challenge, especially for relatively new, non-indoctrinated Christians. This is not to claim that the poetic rendition is flawless. No translation can make that claim; in fact, every translation ‘leaks’ either qualitatively or quantitatively in certain specific and specifiable respects—whether in terms of form, content, function, or all three. To state the case in less flattering terms, traduttore traditore ‘the translator is a traitor’ to a greater or lesser degree in at least these three communicative respects or, to give a somewhat different scale of assessment, with regard to fidelity ( => [with a focus upon] SL meaning), clarity (=> TL meaning), idiomacity (=> TL form), and/or proximity (=> SL form).15 Accordingly, we might evaluate a more poetic-oratorical version in terms of a communicative Loss-Gain polarity. Thus we find a tendency for there to be a noticeable loss with respect to: Verbal consistency, which is useful for word studies and concordance work; certain strategic word placements and structural patterns based on lexical reiteration; the cumulative expressive power and thematic relevance of exact repetition; the familiarizing mirage of form, that is, a comforting (for some people), literal near-reflection of the original text. However, these losses also greatly reduce the overall danger of linguistic and literary ‘foreignization’—or expressed in vernacular terms: ‘Christ preaches/prays in Chichewa just like a white man—cha zii! (with an insipid style).’16 On the other hand, we note a significant gain with respect to: Linguistic naturalness, generic appropriateness (corresponding to a carefully structured constructed, emotively flavored original pericope), rhetorical impact, verbal memorability, and aesthetic beauty overall—compositional features that more closely match those of the biblical text, both in the passage at hand and the document as a whole. This is a ‘Christ [who] preaches/prays in Chichewa just like one of our [verbal] masters— cha mchere (salty style)’, i.e., a fully ‘domesticated’ translation. In view of the patent impossibility of any translation attaining total communicative equivalence in the TL, perhaps it would be fairer to call the competent translator a ‘trader’ instead of a ‘traitor’. S/he must be an experienced, qualified—ideally 39 also a gifted—wordsmith to begin with; otherwise, the attempt to produce a literary version is doomed at the very outset. Second, s/he should be a skillful ‘trader’ in the sense that s/he must be able to exchange or substitute one critical feature of the original text (choosing from among form, content, and intent) in order to gain, preserve, or approximate another, more desirable (selected) aspect of ‘meaning’ in the translation—as determined by the guiding project Skopos. Granted that no translation is ever fully ‘complete’ either semantically or pragmatically, the question is this: How close can we possibly come to the original text and by which method(s)? This crucial query can be answered only on the basis of a thorough pre-project research program that carefully investigates the intended user-group (their needs, interests, desires, capabilities, available resources, etc) along with the particular use for which the present version is being made (i.e., what is intended to be the primary purpose and in which socio-religious setting). Such audience-focused information is essential in the planning of any translation project today, no matter what the type. 4.3 Further reflections on functional issues The examples above would tend to indicate that the lyric rendition of the Lord’s Prayer is a reasonably acceptable instance of the ndakatulo genre in Chichewa. It may be regarded as an example of ‘restrained literariness’ in view of the sacred character of the biblical text. A full application of lyric devices could well take the text ‘over the top’ stylistically, thus rendering it inappropriate for devotional and confessional, let alone liturgical use. Some informal testing of the PR text at various stages during its compositional development has confirmed its general acceptability, especially for the target audience comprising a younger constituency.17 Just exactly how acceptable and in which specific respects are matters requiring further research. But the process of evaluating the relative success of this production raises a number of other interesting, but rather complex issues: Why, for example, were more poetic features (artistic devices) not utilized in the vernacular version? This in turn brings up the interrelated questions of function and usage, for these more than anything else 40 serve to determine the form—and to a lesser degree also the content—of a particular communicative event. When does a poet reach the point of going too far in creatively heightening, either artistically or rhetorically, a religious text, especially one that cites the words of Jesus? And what about those instances where one can point to some concrete stylistic justification for this in the original text? It is evident that an assessment of a literary work’s relevance and appropriateness is not just a matter of quality or quantity with regard to its textual structure and verbal style. Concerns that are much more important are largely contextual in nature—that is, they pertain to the envisaged situational setting and interpersonal circumstances of the act of communication. Here, the principal issue, simply, is this: what was the intended purpose of the text in its original setting, and how does that compare with its contemporary utilitarian goal? Furthermore, to what extent does the factor of genre play into this: in other words, what effect does the style of petitionary prayer have on the discourse features of the original text? How much consideration needs to be given then to the fact that Matthew 6:9-13 is a written prayer, embedded as part of a much larger literary composition (a ‘gospel’ narrative), as opposed to being an independent oral rendition (transcribed exactly)? In addition, how do these associated variables of form and function correspond (by way of similarity or difference) from one language to the next, in this case, from Greek to Chichewa? It is not possible to consider all of the pertinent factors here. Suffice it to say that, given the prominent prayer tradition in Chewa culture, already well established long before the first Christian missionaries and proselytes first arrived, the genre itself is functionally very familiar. Prayers addressed directly to the supreme Deity (to ‘God’, though not necessarily ‘Father’) were certainly much rarer, but indirect appeals to Mulungu or Chauta through the ancestral spirits were (and perhaps still are) very common indeed. Moreover, they were offered for a correspondingly wide variety of purposes—that is, in many ways similar to those of biblical prayer: to make requests in times of illness, danger, or need; to thank and praise God for blessings received; and to remain in personal fellowship with him (or departed relatives) through such verbal, often coupled with ritual, sacrificial contact. Indigenous religious prayers were oral of course, and hence they 41 differed stylistically in certain respects from the prayers that are recorded in the Bible or which Christians commonly use today, for example, in terms of the degree of overt verbal repetition, including mentioning the name of God in the vocative, or with respect to the amount of intertextual lexical influence from other biblical prayer passages. But as far as the function and setting of usage goes, there is a considerable overlap that links the prayers of Scripture, including the Lord’s Prayer, with those of the ancient Chewa tradition of worship. One potentially important topic for future research needs to be mentioned in closing. A poetic translation pushes the resultant text a considerable way in the direction of a sing-able rendition. Thus it would not take much textual development to adapt the PR version of the Lord’s Prayer to a musical format, either a pre-existing melody or better perhaps, one that is composed specifically to suit its particular lyric style and functional purpose.18 The individual or group composition and singing of Bible texts is very popular among the Chewa people (especially the younger generation) in relation to various religious occasions and settings. Poetic, coupled with musical, translations would certainly stimulate as well as facilitate the learning (memorization) and dissemination of certain key portions of Scripture, especially in local communities that are still strongly oral-aural in their communicative competence and preference. 5 SOME IMPLICATIONS OF THIS STUDY By way of summarizing the results of this experiment in creative, poetic text design, I have listed five factors below that relate to improving the quantity (degree of incidence) and quality (level of excellence) of audience-oriented, compositional and hermeneutical practice in Africa as it is applied specifically to Scripture translation. The particular aim of these proposals is to encourage the trial production of more idiomatically expressed, rhetorically phrased, artistically constructed translations of the Bible in Bantu languages—whether a complete book (such as the Psalms) or only a well-known portion (such as Psalm 23, or the Lord’s Prayer). These recommendations would need to be carefully considered and perhaps modified (supplemented, limited, reworded, etc.) during the planning and development of a joint, community-supported Brief, or set of project guidelines concerning theoretical principles, practical procedures, and pragmatic 42 objectives. These general goals would find more detailed expression in a comprehensive, but flexible, context-sensitive Skopos, or statement of purpose, which must be prepared and adopted at the very onset of a given translation project (to be periodically reviewed and revised later as necessary). • Concerning project organization: The establishment of good management principles and team working procedures is essential for any translation project to be conducted successfully. This would be an operational structure that gives translators enough time and guidance to do the job along with the necessary encouragement for their work, but a framework that is also directed by a definite goal-oriented and quality-controlled strategy. Such a program would include being monitored, administered, and facilitated by a capable project ‘coordinator’ along with a committee composed of key members of the sponsoring target constituency. With regard to the choice of translators, only the best (in terms of competence and commitment) are good enough for Bible translation, a poetic, oratorical rendering in particular. Such a version requires proven verbal crafts(wo)men and experienced TL rhetoricians, in both speech and writing. Therefore, considerable attention must be devoted to the process of discovering, motivating, and enlisting such potential artistes. In addition, the translation team will have to include an academically qualified, but also congenial and cooperative SL ‘exegete’, whose job it is to ensure an appropriate measure of translational fidelity in relation to the original text, yet without stifling the creative initiative and spirit of the TL composer(s). • Concerning transmission strategy: From the very beginning of a local Scripture translation program, local Bible societies, national churches, and mission agencies should plan together and budget for the preparation of stylistically distinct versions which are intended to serve different audience segments within the total population by means of diverse media and modes of transmission (e.g., standard-print publication, specially formatted and illustrated portion, a ‘narrativized’ version, ‘new reader’ selection, audio [+/visual] text, musical/sung rendition, electronic ‘hypertext’, dramatized multimedia production).19 A popular media format would certainly be desirable, for example, to correspond with and to complement a more dynamic manner of text presentation, such as we have in the lyric version of the Lord’s Prayer (making use of a colorfully illustrated tract, for example, or accompanying the text with a contemporary, but dignified, musical background).20 Before project implementation, however, the specific need or sufficient demand for a poetic rendering should be clearly established by means of a thorough pre-project audience research exercise to determine the answers to crucial questions such as these: What is the designated targetgroup to be served by this particular type of translation? In what socioreligious situation(s) will the text be used? Which particular audience needs or desires will it meet? How much initial support does such a version have? Who 43 is actually available to do the work—i.e., poetically inclined Bible scholars or biblically informed poets? • Concerning translation style: The different versions referred to above will necessarily manifest important stylistic variations in several dimensions and on a number of distinct linguistic levels, such as: the amount of formal correspondence or functional equivalence that is demanded/desired/allowed in relation to the original text; the degree of artistry and/or idiomacity that is encouraged in order to promote a public ‘oratorical’ reading or performance of the discourse; the application of TL literary/poetic genres for (possibly novel) use in Scripture translation; careful textual adaptations to cater for a primary oral-aural medium, and the amount and kind of supplementary, para-textual ‘reader’s helps’ that are provided (e.g., footnotes, section headings, illustrations, cross references, book introductions, a glossary of key terms).21 My point is that the day of the ‘one-size-fits-all’ Bible translation is long past. More, research-supported, user and usage-governed versions are needed to cater for diverse potential ‘consumer’ groups. The literal BL, for example, would surely have its place within such a broader vision, as would the idiomatic BY and the lyric PR translations. To each his/her own style of Scripture—as long as the version at hand is well done, that is, with a specific target audience clearly in focus. • Concerning translator training: The more receptor-focused and settingsensitive that modern versions become, coupled with the higher standards of quality that are demanded nowadays, the more difficult it will be to find translation teams that are equal to the challenge. For example, any project aiming to prepare a poetic portion must perforce include, or have ready access to, personnel who are correspondingly more competent and creative (poetically ‘artistic’) in terms of their natural literary gifts and technical skills—whether as exegetes, stylists, drafters, illustrators, formatters, media experts, school educators, literacy advisers, PR promoters, or product designers. In addition to more intensive biblical training, the translators of today require supplementary courses in a variety of specific and specialized fields, such as: holistic education, multi-media technology, literary-poetics, indigenous art forms, ethnomusicology (for those producing a music-enhanced version), and intercultural communication. Some of these areas of learning and skill may be available only through more informal methods of instruction, such as local apprenticeship or some ‘in-service’ training with a recognized expert in the full communicative resources of the vernacular language. In any case, where excellence is the goal in terms of the final text, a commensurate level of excellence will have characterize the multi-faceted education of the text-producers to ensure the greatest possible success in this highly challenging endeavor. 44 • Concerning audience testing: As already suggested, an extensive and thorough investigation of the potential human domain of text reception must be carried out well before an expensive translation (+/- multi-media) project is embarked upon. Financial resources are too limited nowadays to waste on wishful thinking or subjective, provincial and denominational preferences. This is especially important where sacred texts (like the ‘Holy Scriptures’) are concerned. A systematic as well as educative sociolinguistic, religious, and aesthetic survey of the intended target audience should also be conducted while a given project is underway, to gauge whether or not it is hitting the mark, especially with regard to its subjective ‘felt’ and objective ‘real’ needs (physical, social, spiritual). Both formal (written) and informal (dialogic), directive as well as interactive, methods of assessing audience opinion among various segments of the potential target constituency would need to be applied in this exercise in order to ensure more credible results. Finally, a sufficient amount of corresponding post-production testing is necessary in order to determine a version’s relative success in achieving the particular goals that it set out to accomplish in relation to its primary user-group. Past mistakes must be avoided and achieved successes repeated when future Scripture productions are planned and implemented. While the preceding practical points relate more or less to all types of Bible translation, they may apply in particular, and with special rigor or intensity, to a specifically poetic rendition. This would be due to several critical factors—in particular, a PR’s relative novelty with respect to the envisioned audience, and the overall difficulty required to do a good job of it. It is necessary first of all to encourage as much local public relations and grass-root support of such a translation project as possible in order to stimulate and nourish the idea of joint responsibility and accountability. One has to generate a sense of community ‘ownership’, ‘management’, or ‘stewardship’ and to promote their immediate active usage of the version under preparation so that it will be fully accepted and utilized when it is finally published. A potentially controversial, stylistically ‘dynamic’ translation therefore needs to be popularized (made ‘reader/hearer friendly’ as well as textually familiar) among the target audience by means of periodically released illustrative samples for eliciting popular feedback well before the time it eventually appears in print or sound (audio cassettes). A more positive motivation for seeking to attain (also to retain) such verbal artistry and excellence in Bible translation is this: It concerns the great communicative potential that such a literary version would have to convey the manifold stylistic and 45 rhetorical dynamics of the Scriptures in a Bantu language—verbal beauty and power that is already encoded within the original text. This is a compositional ‘debt’ that can be paid only by the best a community has to offer in terms of human and financial resources. Finally, a recognizably artful—yet also semantically and pragmatically faithful— interlingual recreation of the biblical text may well turn out to be a ‘revelation’ also in formal terms. It would, by the Spirit, have the power to make a corresponding rhetorical impact on people who probably never realized or expected that the Word of God could speak to them so idiomatically, beautifully (‘lyrically’), and forcefully in their mother tongue. ‘Never has anyone spoken like this!’ … ‘And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language?’ (John 7:46 … Acts 2:8, NRSV) NOTES 1 The so-called ‘principle of relevance’ in communication balances the mental ‘cost’ of processing a given text with the potential ‘gain’ in conceptual (cognitive, emotive, and volitional) effects (cf Gutt 1992: ch 2). In other words, one seeks to reproduce the ‘target language’ (TL) text in a way that is both accurate with respect to the semantic content and pragmatic intent of the ‘source language’ (SL) text as well as being appropriate for and acceptable to the envisioned audience or readership. 2 The technical terms Brief and Skopos are diagnostic in the functionalist approach to translation known as Skopostheorie. According to one of its leading proponents, a translation project Brief explicitly sets forth ‘information about the intended target-text function(s), the target text addressee(s), the medium over which it will be transmitted, the prospective place and time and, if necessary, motive of production or reception of the text’ (Nord 1997:137). Within the framework of this Brief is stated the specific purpose for which a given translation is being prepared: ‘The Skopos rule thus reads as follows: translate/interpret/speak/write in a way that enables your text/translation to function in the situation in which it is used and with the people who want to use it and precisely in the way they want it to function’ (H Vermeer, cited in translation by Nord ibid: 1997:29). 3 This (from Chadza 1967:5) and all subsequent quotations are my own translations from an original Chichewa published text. The six booklets used for this study include the following: E Chadza, Nchito ya Pakamwa: Ndakatulo za m’Chinyanja, Lusaka, Zambia: The Zambia Publications Bureau, 1967; E Chadza, Tiphunzire Chichewa, Blantyre, Malawi: Christian Literature Association, 1970; J Gwengwe, Ndakatulo, Nairobi, Kenya: Oxford UP, 1967; B Malunga, Kuimba kwa Mlakatuli, Blantyre: Christian Literature Association, 1990; E Mvula (ed), Akoma Akagonera, Limbe, Malawi: Popular Publications, 1981; Ulendo Series: Mtunda 8 (Chichewa for Standard 8), Blantyre: Dzuka Publishing Co, 1982. Most ndakatulo authors are male; women seem to prefer other types of musical composition. 4 Chewa is a major southeastern Bantu language spoken as a first or second tongue by some ten million people in Malawi, Zambia, and Mozambique. Strictly speaking, that is, in the vernacular, the language is referred to as Chichewa and the people as Achewa (Mchewa, sg). In contrast to oral poetry in Africa (e.g., Finnegan 1992), not a great deal seems to have been published on the subject of written poetry—on Malawian authors in particular (cf Chimombo 1988). It may be that I simply have not come into contact with what is actually available in this regard, perhaps in unpublished form such as university dissertations and seminar presentations. 5 In the ‘classical’ dictionary of Chichewa (also called Chinyanja), the word ndakatulo is defined as follows: ‘something composed out of one’s head, as a nyimbo (poem) by a poet’ (Scott and Hetherwick 1929:369). This noun is related to the verb –lakatula ‘to utter oracular words … babble, be inspired, compose poems’ (ibid: loc cit). 6 I have published Scriptures primarily in mind, but it is very likely that the ndakatulo genre would work even better as a model for audio productions (e.g., on cassettes). 7 Another possible use of a ndakatulo-style translation would be to serve as the text of a Scripture ‘comic’ publication, which are very popular in south-central Africa. 8 It would appear that a similar set of features could be used to characterize the Tonga genre of written lyric poetry known as kweema. I recently obtained a copy of what to my knowledge is the first published collection of such poems: Cimbonimboni (‘Mirror’) by M E Shandele (Lusaka: Zambia Educational Publishing House, 2001). As described by 46 the author, ‘The lyricist (weema) can also employ a fitting word to touch (-guma) people. But really it is not the word itself that touches (someone), but the message and how it has been arranged—or the words, or the ideas. When speaking, one does not have a special choice of words (masalesale). But in lyricizing (kweema), that is the essential thing. Often lyricizing is like telling riddles (maambilambali)’ (v). My ten categories would seem to include all of the specific devices that Sitima lists as being ‘tools found in ndakatulo lyrics’ (zipangizo zopezeka mndakatulo), namely, metaphor, proverbs, similes, symbolism, hyperbole, onomatopoeia, biblical allusion, suspense, euphemism, metre, mood, personification, alliteration, repetition, satire, surface/deep meaning, prefixes, exclamation, and ideophone (following his Chinyanja listing, 2001:18-19). 9 For an important study of ‘the Gbaya ideophone in artistic oral discourse’, specifically with respect to ‘some of the ways in which verbal artists employ ideophones structurally and thematically’, see Noss 2001 (259). 10 The ideophone presents its own unique problems of translation because it has no exact equivalent in terms of form and function in English. The main strategies for dealing with them are: (a) literal reproduction; (b) use of a functional equivalent, where available, mostly onomatopoeic; and (c) paraphrase by means of some dynamic expression of meaning. I have not been entirely successful in this endeavor, by any of these means. 11 An ‘oratorical’ composition is a literary text (and all that this entails in artistic terms) which is prepared specifically for an overt, oral-aural presentation (or indeed, a ‘performance’). Oratory is meant to be uttered (recited, chanted, sung) aloud—and correspondingly heard, not silently read to oneself from a page of print. 12 Sitima (2001:3-10) lists the following six ‘works’ (ntchito), or functions, of ndakatulo poems—that is: to praise and worship God (note: this was his first function), to teach or reprove someone, to manifest the good or bad character of someone, to express desire and love, to complain or lament about what has happened or will happen, and to describe, request, invite, or report something that has attracted the poet’s attention. 13 For lack of space, a rather large assumption will have to stand here unproven and not discussed—namely, the relative literary excellence of the original text of Scripture, both the Hebrew and also the Greek Testaments. I argue and illustrate this case in detail elsewhere (e.g., forthcoming: chapters 1-2). Similarly, it is not possible here to discuss the range of translation-types that organizers of a given project can choose from nowadays (again, see the preceding reference, chs 2 and 11). 14 This text was chosen for several reasons: a) it is well-known to most readers, a feature that might facilitate at least an implicit comparative analysis; b) its relatively short length and self-contained nature; and c) due to the fact that I had already analyzed it in both Greek and Chichewa for a different purpose. This choice is not ideal; its familiarity and liturgical or devotional usage does limit the freedom that one has in composing it in a colloquial, lyrical style—namely, for reasons of religious propriety. 15 For an extended discussion of various testing procedures in relation of Bible translation, see Wendland forthcoming: ch 10. Note that SL = ‘source language’, namely, that of the text from which a translation is being made; TL = ‘target language’, i.e., the language of the translation itself, the text being designated to cater for a particular ‘target’ constituency. 16 The notion of ‘foreignizing’ in translation means taking ‘the reader [presumably also the hearer] over to the foreign culture, making him or her see the (cultural and linguistic) differences’ between the text in the TL and the original (L Venuti, cited in Katan 1999:156. The problem with such a lax, laissez faire translation strategy is simply this: what is the untutored reader/hearer to make, if anything, of all these ‘differences’? How is s/he to recognize such a difference in the first place, that is, if s/he has no access to the original document? And what if s/he immediately construes the wrong meaning from the vernacular translation, or no sense at all—or what if the text is so foreign-sounding that it seems not worth the effort even to try to interpret it? Finally, were such ‘differences” so apparent, even glaring, also in the original text when read or heard by mother tongue speakers? In contrast to a ‘foreignized’ translation, a ‘domesticated’ version seeks to bring the alien original text ‘home’ to the reader/hearer in a way that seems most natural linguistically (i.e., in terms of normal TL lexical and syntactic usage) and pragmatically as well (i.e., sociocultural usage). This would not necessarily be the case semantically, however, that is, in terms of the concepts being communicated, for these must represent the SL message as accurately (faithfully) as possible, especially where ‘sacred’, religious texts are involved. 17 Several senior students at the seminary where I teach are mother-tongue (Malawian) Chichewa speakers; they assisted me and critically assessed my composition of the PR version of the Lord’s Prayer. 18 The current lines of the Chichewa PR could be extended to fit a musical line, for example, through the addition of deictic or intensifying suffixes; similarly, a line that is presently a bit too long could be reduced by means of ellipsis or vowel elision. For some significant research on this topic from a West African perspective, see Klem 1982. 19 This last-mentioned vehicle of communication brings up an interesting area where future research and testing is definitely needed. For example, in his survey of the Tamilnadu people of India with respect to the most effective ‘mode’ of audio-cassette production of a selected Scripture portion (Mark 1:21-28), J Sundersingh found that a ‘drama format’ (multi-voiced) won out over both a ‘story format’ (modulated intonation) and a straight ‘reading format’ (1999: 290). 20 For some excellent, up-to-date guidance with regard to Scripture productions via the audio medium, see Sogaard (ed), 2002. 47 21 These ‘readers helps’ could also be provided in an oral/audio ‘text’, though of course in different form. They would also need to be carefully distinguished from the actual words of Scripture, e.g., as oral ‘asides’ by means of a different speaking voice, background auditory shading, and/or a physical signal in sound (bell, drum beat, music, etc). (https://www.pinterest.com/pin/507780926719898609/ ) 48 (https://www.pinterest.com/pin/192951165262504780/ ) 49 (https://www.pinterest.com/pin/771311873656589364/ ) 50