dear arnon
i understand — and if you asked me translate something you've written i would be honoured, but i only work for love. all the work i do now is an act of love. if it's not an act of love i prefer to sit on my ass (as someone i love says) and watch an old episode of seinfeld or two, or to continue trying to write another book.
and it is not a transaction : if i love someone or something i don't expect them or it to love me in return. if it happens, or they do, so be it. love has to come by itself, to unfold, to become unconcealed, or, indeed, revealed — and you have to let it come when it comes and to let it go when it goes.
if you asked me to translate something you've written that i love, i would love translating it — even though, in the act of translating, i might also destroy it. but it often happens that we destroy things we love in the act of loving them. all that we can do is to be as careful as possible, to do everything within our power to not destroy it, but we may fail.
and sometimes, as dostoevski writes in 'notes from the underground' : soms wil een mens gewoon iets stukmaken.
love johannes