Yesterday’s session at Fulham Library Creative Writing Group brought unexpected validation. I decided to share a new poem, translating it myself during the workshop rather than preparing beforehand. The spontaneous translation process revealed layers in my work I hadn’t previously noticed.
The workshop leader’s response caught me off guard. She described my piece as ‘excellent example of classical British poetry’ – praise that felt both encouraging and slightly surreal. Having someone recognise classical elements in work originally conceived in Russian suggests something about how language shapes poetic structure, even across cultural boundaries.
Translating aloud forced immediate decisions about word choice and rhythm that silent preparation would have allowed me to overthink. Some phrases emerged more naturally in English than I’d expected, whilst others required complete reconstruction to maintain the original’s emotional core.
The group’s feedback focused on technical craft rather than thematic content. They responded to formal elements – metre, sound patterns, image progression – in ways that reminded me how much classical training influences contemporary British poetry appreciation.
What struck me most was realising my work functions differently when filtered through translation process in real time. The poem became simultaneously more and less familiar – recognisably mine, yet shaped by English language constraints I’m still learning to navigate.
The leader’s comment about classical British poetry made me consider how immigration shapes artistic identity. My Russian literary background apparently translates into something recognisable within British poetic tradition, even when I’m not consciously drawing those connections.
The session confirmed something I’d suspected about finding my voice in English – sometimes the most authentic expression emerges through constraint rather than complete freedom.
— Writer Anastasia Dubinina