The Hebrew in Psalm 18:5 that is translated as “the cords of Sheol” in some English versions is rendered in Medumba with the existing expression “the odor of death.” (Source: Jan de Waard in The Bible Translator1974, p. 107ff )
In the Contemporary Chichewa translation (2002/2016) it is translated as In “the ropes from the grave.” In Chewa culture these are used to descend a coffin with a dead body into the grave. These ropes are kept at the grave or in some communities at the house of one of the people who take care of the grave. Being tied by these ropes is considered to be a big misfortune as they are associated with death. (Source: Mawu a Mulungu mu Chichewa Chalero Back Translation)
Following are a number of back-translations as well as a sample translation for translators of Psalm 18:5:
Chichewa Contempary Chichewa translation, 2002/2016:
“They tied me with ropes of the grave;
the snares of death contended with me.” (Source: Mawu a Mulungu mu Chichewa Chalero Back Translation)
Newari:
“The ropes of hell wrapped all around me.
The mouth of death was awaiting me.” (Source: Newari Back Translation)
Hiligaynon:
“Death seems like a cord/rope that entangles me and like a trap/snare on my way/path.
Destruction seems like a strong flood/that covers/washes-over me.” (Source: Hiligaynon Back Translation)
Eastern Bru:
“The knotted string of death coils around me constantly. Snares constantly set for me want to choke off my breath.” (Source: Bru Back Translation)
Laarim:
“The ropes of death wrapped me,
then death trapped me on my way.” (Source: Laarim Back Translation)
Nyakyusa-Ngonde (back-translation into Swahili):
“Kamba za katika wafu zilinifunga,
mitego ya kifo ilikuwa mbele yangu.” (Source: Nyakyusa Back Translation)
English:
“It was as though the place where dead people are had ropes that were wrapped around me,
or it was as though there was a trap that would seize and kill me.” (Source: Translation for Translators)
With verse 4 begins the long body of the psalm in the form of a review of the past, or a flashback recalling God’s great acts in rescuing the psalmist from his enemies. Although there is the occasional verse with static parallelism, the text is made up of parallel lines which enable a movement between lines and between verses so that the great moments of a story unfold. In this sense poetic lines are somewhat narrative without becoming an epic. The translator’s perception of the dynamics of the parallelism will help him to select those devices in his own language which will contribute to the heightening effect or the consequence in the second of two parallel lines.
The parallelism in verses 4 and 5 is not typical. Both the a and b lines of each verse have a metaphor. The more typical structure is for the metaphor to occur in the second line, which is more vivid and intensive. However, 18.4 is a clear case of intensification; in line a the cords of death merely encompass, but in line b they turn into violent action. Good News Translation‘s rendering, which substitutes “danger of death” in line a, intensifies line b with the figure “waves of destruction” and the active verb “rolled over me.” Verse 5 and the first two lines of verse 6, on the other hand, have parallel lines in which the second merely restates the first. There is no heightening of effect, no specification, and no consequence. The poet has simply chosen to introduce the flashback section by piling up images for the sake of emphasizing his threatened existence at some time in the past. With the second couplet in verse 6 begins the predominant structure of movement between parallel lines and between verses.
The phrase The cords of death in verse 4a is not quite synonymous with the torrents of perdition in line b, and some prefer to adopt for line a the text in 2 Samuel 22.5a, “the waves of death” (see New American Bible, New Jerusalem Bible, Bible de Jérusalem, Dahood). Cords of death portrays death as a hunter with a net trying to trap people, or with ropes trying to tie them up.
In the four lines of these two verses, death … perdition … Sheol … death are all parallel, all indicating the danger of sudden death, either through sickness, or at the hands of enemies, or in battle. The psalmist thought that death was imminent; he was as good as dead.
It is generally assumed that the word translated perdition is another name for Sheol (for which see comments on 6.5). The dangers that threatened the psalmist with death are likened to cords, torrents, and snares, all of which are metaphors for instruments of capture and destruction.
The four verbs are matched to the metaphors: (1) verse 4a, cords with encompassed, meaning “tie up, bind” (also 2 Sam 22.5; Psa 40.12; 116.3; “closed in” in Jonah 2.5); (2) verse 4b, torrents with assailed, meaning “fall upon, roll over, overwhelm”; some take the verb to mean “terrify”; (3) verse 5a, cords with entangled, meaning “be around,” that is, tie up (see the verb in 17.11); (4) verse 5b, snares with confronted, meaning “to face, to meet” (as in 17.13).
In many languages it is not natural to refer to death as The cords of death; however, other metaphors are often available: trap, snare, pit, and fire. One may sometimes say “the snares of death were around me” or “traps that kill were around me.”
Torrents of perdition may sometimes be substituted by “floods that destroy.”
Cords of Sheol may sometimes be replaced by such figures as “the traps of death catch me” or “the traps which kill take hold of me.”
Quoted with permission from Bratcher, Robert G. and Reyburn, William D. A Handbook on the Book of Psalms. (UBS Helps for Translators). New York: UBS, 1991. For this and other handbooks for translators see here .
John Wu Ching-hsiung (1899-1986) was a native of Ningbo, Zhejiang, a renowned jurist who studied in Europe and the United States, and served as a professor of law at Soochow University, as a judge and the Acting President of the Shanghai Provisional Court, and as the Vice President of the Commission for the Drafting of the Constitution of the Republic of China, before becoming the Minister of the Republic of China to the Holy See. Wu has written extensively, not only on law but also on Chinese philosophy, and has also written his autobiography, Beyond East and West, in English. Wu was a devout Catholic and had a personal relationship with Chiang Kai-shek (1887-1975). Wu began translating the the Psalms in 1938, and was encouraged by Chiang to translate the entire New Testament, which he corrected in his own handwriting. (…) John Wu Ching-hsiung’s translation of the Psalms (first draft in 1946, revised in 1975) was translated into Literary Chinese in the form of poetic rhyme, with attention paid to the style of writing. According to the content and mood of the different chapters of the original psalm, Wu chose Chinese poetic forms such as tetrameter, pentameter, heptameter [4, 5 or 7 syllables/Chinese characters per stanza], and the [less formal] Sao style, and sometimes more than two poetic forms were used in a single poem. (Source: Simon Wong)
John Wu Ching-hsiung himself talks about his celebrated and much-admired (though difficult-to-understand) translation in his aforementioned autobiography: (Click or tap here to see)
“Nothing could have been farther from my mind than to translate the Bible or any parts of it with a view to publishing it as an authorized version. I had rendered some of the Psalms into Chinese verse, but that was done as a part of my private devotion and as a literary hobby. When I was in Hongkong in 1938, I had come to know Madame H. H. Kung [Soong Ai-ling], and as she was deeply interested in the Bible, I gave her about a dozen pieces of my amateurish work just for her own enjoyment. What was my surprise when, the next time I saw her, she told me, “My sister [Soong Mei-ling] has written to say that the Generalissimo [Chiang Kai-shek] likes your translation of the Psalms very much, especially the first, the fifteenth, and the twenty-third, the Psalm of the Good Shepherd!”
“In the Autumn of 1940, when I was in Chungking, the Generalissimo invited me several times to lunch with him and expressed his appreciation of the few pieces that he had read. So I sent him some more. A few days later I received a letter from Madame Chiang [Soong Mei-ling], dated September 21, 1940, in which she said that they both liked my translation of the few Psalms I had sent them. ‘For many years,’ she wrote, ‘the Generalissimo has been wanting to have a really adequate and readable Wen-li (literary) translation of the Bible. He has never been able to find anyone who could undertake the matter.’ The letter ends up by saying that I should take up the job and that ‘the Generalissimo would gladly finance the undertaking of this work.’
“After some preliminary study of the commentaries, I started my work with the Psalms on January 6, 1943, the Feast of the Epiphany.
“I had three thousand years of Chinese literature to draw upon. The Chinese vocabulary for describing the beauties of nature is so rich that I seldom failed to find a word, a phrase, and sometimes even a whole line to fit the scene. But what makes such Psalms so unique is that they bring an intimate knowledge of the Creator to bear upon a loving observation of things of nature. I think one of the reasons why my translation is so well received by the Chinese scholars is that I have made the Psalms read like native poems written by a Chinese, who happens to be a Christian. Thus to my countrymen they are at once familiar and new — not so familiar as to be jejune, and not so new as to be bizarre. I did not publish it as a literal translation, but only as a paraphrase.
“To my greatest surprise, [my translation of the Psalms] sold like hot dogs. The popularity of that work was beyond my fondest dreams. Numberless papers and periodicals, irrespective of religion, published reviews too good to be true. I was very much tickled when I saw the opening verse of the first Psalm used as a headline on the front page of one of the non-religious dailies.”
A contemporary researcher (Lindblom 2021) mentions this about Wu’s translation: “Wu created a unique and personal work of sacred art that bears the imprint of his own admitted love and devotion, a landmark achievement comparable to Antoni Gaudi’s Basilica of the Sagrada Família in Barcelona, Spain. Although its use is still somewhat limited today, it continues to attract readers for the aforementioned qualities, and continues to be used in prayers and music by those who desire beauty and an authentic Chinese-sounding text that draws from China’s ancient traditions.”
The translation of Psalm 18 from the 1946 edition is in the so-called Sao style (even though it’s titled a Fu style poem) and the rhyme schemes are -ian and -ang (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):
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