L’exil m’érode, tige dans la tempête de duneLes vertiges, nausées du sevrage, me renversentchiffon que le vent agitesur les piquets des campements désertés
Umberto Eco once pessimistically said that “translation is the art of failure”. In contrast, I say that this precious craft is the art of success because without literary translation, we are all separate dots in an ocean of failures.
