Translate & Images in Google Sheets

Translate Text
& Import Images
in Google Sheets
LINC-405: Assignment #2
Peter Y. Chou
March 5, 2023

Preface: On February 8, 2023, 6:00-6:30 pm, LINC-405 Zoom class Skills Workshop, Will Cavada showed how to import image "Concert" into Google Sheets; Translate text from Italian to English for Assignment #2. I recalled a poem "The Albatross" (1857) that poet classmate Mary Fry shared with me when we went to Adrienne Rich's Poetry Reading at San Jose State University (1991). The translation Mary gave me was by Richard Wilbur. Will see how Google translate this poem. For importing images to Google Sheets, decided on two postage stamps— France 666 "Charles Baudelaire" (issued 10-29-1951) and French Antarctica C3 "Albatross" (issued 10-1-1959). Cavada also showed Sharing files in Column 3 of Google Sheets

France 666: Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867)
(issued 10-29-1951)
French Antarctica C3 "Albatross"
(issued 10-1-1959).

L'ALBATROS from Les Fleurs du Mal (1857)
Souvent, pour s'amuser, les hommes d'équipage
Prennent des albatros, vastes oiseaux des mers,
Qui suivent, indolents compagnons de voyage,
Le navire glissant sur les gouffres amers.

A peine les ont-ils déposés sur les planches,
Que ces rois de l'azur, maladroits et honteux,
Laissent piteusement leurs grandes ailes blanches
Comme des avirons traîer à côté d'eux.

Ce voyageur ailé, comme il est gauche et veule!
Lui, naguère si beau, qu'il est comique et laid!
L'un agace son bec avec un brûle-gueule,
L'autre mime, en boitant, l'infirme qui volait!

Le Poëte est semblable au prince des nuées
Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l'archer;
Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées,
Ses ailes de géant l'empêchent de marcher.

THE ALBATROSS from The Flowers of Evil
Often, for pastime, mariners will ensnare
The albatross, that vast sea-bird who sweeps
On high companionable pinion where
Their vessel glides upon the bitter deeps.

Torn from his native space, this captive king
Flounders upon the deck in stricken pride,
And pitiably lets his great white wing
Drag like a heavy paddle at his side.

This rider of winds, how awkward he is, and weak!
How droll he seems, who lately was all grace!
A sailor pokes a pipestem into his beak;
Another, hobbling, mocks his trammeled pace.

The Poet is like this monarch of the clouds,
Familiar of storms, of stars, and of all high things;
Exiled on earth amidst its hooting crowds,
He cannot walk, borne down by his giant wings.

— translated by Richard Wilbur