George Szirtes saith:
The translator meets himself emerging from his lover’s bedroom. So much for fidelity, he thinks.
Je est un autre, said the translator. Try next door.
A poet and a translator walk into a bar. Give me a beer, says the poet. I suppose you’d better give him a beer, says the translator.
Via, bien sur, wood s lot; if you like the Szirtes, there’s more of it at the first link, and if you don’t, there’s more translation- and language-related material at the second link, and if you don’t like any of it, hang in there, another post will be along tomorrow.