Kelley Tling

A Nightly Lullaby

His smile— a sharp knife.

That knife at his right-hand side.

Gentleness, he says, is fake.

He feigns cluelessness. She knows—

But follows the act

When she says she’s okay,

Her heart aches…

Broken sounds trembling out—

That fragile place…

A shoulder popping, pain rising

Flooding her cries

On the edge of fading, he watches

And she still plays along…

–Translated from Burmese by Kelley Tling

A Nightly Serenade

That tormenting, lingering smile…

Like a blade, whispering against her skin.

Brought to be held at his right-hand side,

Tenderness—an illusion

She turns away, unwilling

He averts his gaze

She’s whole, acting okay

But she’s not—inside, her heart shattered

The agonizing pain…

Fragments of silence begins to tremble,

A broken melody… spilling

Longing to disappear…

Her shoulder is twisted, torn—

A scream woven into flesh,

The night still whispers…

Each holding their unspoken truths

Neither willing to shatter the silent lie…

–Translated from Burmese by Kelley Tling

Lost Words:

(An erasure poem) 

Burmese: Dialect Zotung

My relatives

Zotung

I don’t know

          Nothing because no one said anything

Visiting friends, church, community

No

–Kelley

Translator’s Statement

Eaindra, a Burmese poet born in 1973, in Irrawaddy Delta, Myanmar (Eaindra), is “considered one of the leading voices of her generation.” She started publishing poetry at twenty and has since written extensively, with fifty poems and fifteen short stories in Burmese print media. She is living in Singapore, remaining active as a blogger and contributor to Burmese literary circles. Her first collected book of poems was published in 2012. She is also a founding member of the Aesthetic Light Foundation, which supports Burmese writers (Various Burmese Poets). 

Eaindra's “Lullaby for a Night" was published in The Kenyon Review in Spring 2013 (The Kenyon Review). During Myanmar's transition to democracy. After years of military rule, Burmese poets, including Eaindra, expressed identity, resistance, and hope while reflecting on past censorship and political struggles. Her poem likely uses free verse to create emotional depth. She often includes natural imagery to extract memory and resilience. The tone blends comfort, reflecting the uncertainty. Her work highlights Burmese artists’ perseverance and their efforts to capture their country’s changing landscape. 

Eaindra’s poem, “Lullaby for a Night”  is structured with 14 lines and maintains a serious, emotional tone without playing with shape. It relies on end-stopped lines, occasional enjambment, and ellipses to create pauses that emphasize sadness and reflection. There is no repetition, figurative language, except for one in the first stanza, which is “His smile/is like taking a knife. There aren't any allusions, making the expression straightforward and raw. The poem focuses on heartbreak and whether or not the man understands the speaker’s feelings. The act of pretending to be okay reinforces the emotional weight. In translating, I preserved the structure and pauses to retain the poem’s direct expression of grief.

I don’t understand Zotung as much as I did when I was younger. I always used to speak different phrases in Zotung, but as I got older, my parents gradually stopped speaking in their dialect and spoke more English. My mom also found it difficult to translate certain phrases into English in a way that can fully capture the meaning of each phrase. Despite this, I was able to get a literal translation, by telling her that it didn’t need to sound natural, I just needed the word-for-word translation. She did as I said and it sounded awkward in some places. But, it was a direct translation, some parts didn’t make perfect sense in English, but I accepted this, knowing that accuracy was more important than forcing it to sound natural. For each translation, I focused on different elements to bring out the poem’s meaning. 

In Translation 1, I emphasized emotional imagery, using direct descriptions of pain and distress. Words like "sharp knife" and "pain flooding" make the emotions intense and immediate. I also played with punctuation, like em-dashes, to create pauses and emphasize certain moments. In Translation 2, I aimed for poetic imagery, using more metaphors and fluid language to make the poem feel lyrical. This was a feature in the original poem, however, my mom didn’t really put any emotion when reading it, but with the title name, it says “A Night Song” so, some lines had lyrical features. Phrases like “a blade, whispering against her skin” create a softer, more haunting tone, while "a scream woven into flesh" adds depth and movement. This version feels more refined and literary compared to the raw emotion of the first one. The challenge was finding the right balance between accuracy and artistic expression. Some phrases didn’t translate naturally, like this line in my literal translation, “But her heart is painful now.” So I had to adjust wording while still keeping the meaning intact, and it came out better than I expected!

At first, I thought a good translation had to be as close to the original wording as possible. But through this project, I realized that just translating words isn’t enough. It's also about capturing the emotion and meaning behind them. A good translation can balance the accuracy with artistic expression, making sure the message feels natural in another language while keeping its original meaning.This process also made me think about my relationship with Zotung. Since I don’t understand it, I felt frustrated and disconnected at times. However, working through this made me appreciate Zotung more and helped me see how language carries culture and identity. Even if I don’t speak it fluently, I now feel a deeper respect for my heritage language.

This process reinforced the idea that "Language is not just something to be recorded; it needs to be lived, spoken, and passed down. No amount of digital preservation can replace real-world speakers keeping a language alive." (Gibb) This assertion from scholar Lorna Gibb resonates deeply with my translation experience. Working with Zotung, a language I don’t speak, made me realize how much meaning can be lost when a language isn’t actively spoken and shared. My mom struggled to translate certain phrases into English, and even when we got a literal translation, it felt awkward. This process showed me that language is more than just words, it has history, culture, and identity. Without other speakers keeping it alive, a language is at risk of fading away. Even though I don’t fully understand Zotung, this translation experience made me appreciate its importance and reinforced the importance of passing languages down to future generations.

I also learned that some things are untranslatable, and that’s okay. I wanted to capture emotional imagery in one version of my translation and poetic imagery in another, knowing that each had limits. That’s why this quote from Antena also resonated with me. The manifesto argues that some meanings in language simply can’t be fully translated, but instead of trying to force them into another language, ultratranslation embraces and preserves those untranslatable elements. "Ultratranslation labors to translate the untranslatable, and also to preserve it: not to reduce the irreducible" (Antena, 2) I wasn’t just translating, I was making choices about what needed to be preserved and how to adapt it without losing meaning. This project changed the way I see language; it’s more than just communication.

Overall, the translation process was quite difficult in general. A whole rollercoaster ride at most, especially with the heritage language interview. Since the questions were too complex for my mom to answer. I was trying to say it in a simpler way and even put it into the translator. but still nothing worked. Though I did have a fun experience trying to explain to my mom what each question was trying to ask. However, with Eric’s help, I was able to modify the questions, which made the process much more manageable.

My erasure poem shows how I feel about Zotung: disconnected. The short lines reflect the silence around my heritage language. I don’t know it, and no one really talked about it when I was growing up. The phrase "Nothing because no one said anything" captures the absence perfectly. Even in places like church or community gatherings, where language should be shared, I still don’t feel any connections. By erasing most of the words, I show how Zotung is there, but it’s distant. Something I should know, but don’t.

Works Cited

Antena. A Manifesto for Ultratranslation. 2013, 

https://antenaantena.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/ultratranslation_eng.pdf. Accessed 2 June 2025

Eaindra. Arc Publications, 2025,

 https://www.arcpublications.co.uk/writers/eaindra. Accessed 2 June 2025

Gibb, Lorna. Why Linguistic Diversity Matters. Princeton University Press, 29 Apr. 2025, https://press.princeton.edu/ideas/why-linguistic-diversity-matters. Accessed 2 June 2025

Eaindra, Lullaby for a Night, Translated by Thett & Bryne, The Kenyon Review, 2013

https://kenyonreview.org/contributor/eaindra/, Accessed 9 June 2025

Thett & Bryne, Lullaby for a Night, By Eaindra, Kenyon Review, 2013,

https://kenyonreview.org/contributor/eaindra/, Accessed 9 June 2025

“Various Burmese Poets.” Asymptote Journal, 2010, https://www.asymptotejournal.com/poetry/various-burmese-poets-bones-will-crow/. Accessed 30 May 2025.