As a literary translator, I am often thinking translation as I read. It is, as we say in French, a déformation professionnelle, an occupational hazard of seeing the world through translator’s eyes. Sometimes this leads to actual translation.

When I began reading poems on Facebook by Innu poet Maya Cousineau Mollen, I couldn’t help but try my hand at translating some of them. I began collecting them too, since words published on Facebook can easily vanish from our sight (even though Facebook likely has them all stowed away somewhere). When she published her first collection (Bréviaire du matricule 082, Wendake: Éditions Hannenorak, 2019), I asked her about translating it, but someone else had already taken the initiative to find a publisher for his translation of the book.

I continued doing the occasional translation of her occasional poems published on Facebook. When I proposed to her that I submit some to ellipse, she sent me other poems that had not yet been published.

Natasha Kanapé Fontaine is another poet, also Innu, who often posts occasional poems online. I have published translations of three of her poetry collections with Mawenzi House, but I have also translated some of her more ephemeral poetry. Some of these are related to specific events. For example, she wrote a poem on the occasion of a visit to Ottawa on July 1 one year. It was a very political poem, a comment on that particular occasion, as well as more generally on the place of First Nations peoples within the borders of Canada. I have published some of her occasional poetry in the magazines Arc and Maisonneuve.

Maya’s poetry is sometimes political too, but tends to be more personal. The poems by Maya, which follow, are more related to the immediate changes and challenges in her life.

In general, I think that poetry is much more tied to the present than prose, which often relates the story of past events. Poetry can tell stories too, but it is often about immediate reactions to what is happening and what is felt in the present. Traditional Japanese haiku exemplifies this: an immediate observation that evokes a feeling. No plot, no character, other than the eyes and ears of the observer.

I often read wonderful poems of the past quoted on Twitter, but social media has become more and more the place for poetry of the present. Many people, of course, share their daily lives on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, but the most powerful of these messages, the ones that will perhaps have staying power, are often expressed in verse.

Much of the future of poetry, and poetry translation, seems to lie in online platforms, whether social media or online publications. We can only hope that once the current pandemic is behind us that poetry will reclaim its fundamental place in live presentations, but virtual publication and performance will continue to play a vital role.