Poetry is one of the hardest pieces of writing to translate into different languages. Poetry is written to sound a certain way, built together with crisp letters, and fractured words. When you transfer it into a different language, you lose some of that special creativity. Most languages have a hard time transferring correctly, some meanings and words are lost in this process. After understanding this, I realized I was not able to grasp the full concept of this piece of writing. In this poem, A Gloomy Face, Anuj Ghiimire uses words and phrases like “Like a light bending in the path of a black hole… everything around me turning gloomy” I can only imagine that that Anuj went through an event, missing someone or having an illness, lead her to feel these dark and heavy feelings. Some syntax used in this piece include “a black hole, a dark hole, inside me, a hole” along with “no smile, no jokes can fill the void”. Our author is greatly in need of something, something important that she needs filled in her life. Culturally, I can make connections to her feelings and it helps me realize that we are all humans and we all share similar feelings. I enjoyed sharing this connection with someone all the way across the world.

The story, on the other hand, was a bit different. When this was translated into English, I think we misinterpreted some things. I found myself lost and confused, but this could have been to my fault, and lack of knowledge with literature with this genre. Rane and Seti are neighbors to a man they can hardly get along with. Lahure is very loud, brings home a lot of girls, and argues with Seti on the daily. One night, Rane and Seti wake to an uncomfortable feeling and sounds that something might be wrong across the hall at Lahure’s. Seti and Rane run to check through the peep hole to see a woman leave Lahures room and no more movement or noise. Seti fears something ,ight be wrong with Lahure and rushes over. Seti and Rane find him dead, mudered. The rest of the story takes place as Rane makes the decision to run in fear that he might be blamed, or to stick it out and tell the truth. Pushkar Shamsher perfectly gave good word choice like “His eyes stared steadfastly into the void.” I can see Rane, sitting and staring, as any of us would if we were to find someone dead, on the floor with a pool of blood. Culturally, it made me stop and think about if this was something that happened often. In poorer countries, death is more frequent and dealt with more than we experience here. It intrigues me, and I will increase my knowledge about Nepal and it’s everyday lives among the citizens there, as I do plan to take a trip there next May.

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