With Winter Wheat just around the corner, we asked our guest readers, Paula J. Lambert and Juan Rojas about their work, what they will be reading, and about their Winter Wheat experiences to share with our readers and participants.
Lambert and Rojas were asked to respond to the following questions via email and what follows is their written descriptions depicting the beautiful working relationship they have developed to produce their works of translation and the importance of their communication and understanding of each other.
Can you share with us a little bit about what you will be reading?
Paula & Juan: We’ll be reading poems excerpted from Juan’s full manuscript El camino que lleva nuestros nombres / The Path that Carries Our Names in the original Spanish and the translated English. The last section, as you know, was published in MAR as a featured translation chapbook, so we expect to finish the reading with that last section of the book in full. We also look forward to discussing the translation process itself, as time allows—how it unfolds, and the key elements that shape it.
Your work is a work in translation. Can you speak to the process of translation?
Paula: For us, the work was as much a process of editing as it was translation, as Juan came to me when he’d finished the first draft of the manuscript, and the poems needed quite a lot of work. I’m a very good editor, and many of the poems that were quite long and rather confusing were edited down to something far more concise. Additionally, some of the poems had already been translated to English by another poet who was not a native English speaker, and though that should have made things easier for me (I actually don’t speak or read Spanish) it actually made some things more difficult, as we had to sort out what was problematic from the original words Juan wrote and what may have been a problem with an inaccuracy in the first translation. So, ours was a sitting-side-by-side process, with me asking him over and over, “Is this what you really mean? Is this what you intended?” Sometimes that led to him realizing the drafted poem was not very clear, and sometimes it meant there was something in the language or the cultural references that I was not yet understanding. And of course once we got through all the individual poems, all translated fully and clearly into English so that I had a much clearer understanding of the overall story being told, we had to take a look at how the poems were working together—where there were redundancies, for example, or how some parallels needed to be highlighted.
Juan: The translation process involved four essential elements: excellent communication—between poet and poet, poet and editor, and poet and translator; a willingness to explore new creative possibilities; trust in our instincts and in the original poetic essence; and the courage to embrace transformation.
For me, it was crucial to truly listen to Paula—not only as a translator, but also as a poet and editor in her own right. I wanted to ensure that what I originally intended to “chant” could be creatively reimagined through translation. After all, every translation is its own new creation.
I made a point to reflect on the changes Paula suggested—not simply agreeing or disagreeing but engaging in meaningful discussion. Dialogue has been essential throughout—before, during, and even after the translation of the manuscript—especially as we’ve shared this work together in multiple conferences and literary festivals.
How did you come to collaborate and what was that process like collaborating?
Paula: We’ve been friends and colleagues for many years. I’m not honestly sure where we first met, but I’d heard him read on the local poetry scene and, as I was hosting Peripatetic Poets here in Columbus and a show called “Celebrating the Night Sky” at Perkins Observatory in Delaware, I invited him to read. When he read at the observatory, he brought his two children, very young at the time, who played “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” on the violin as he read his poems over their music. It was magical. When that event evolved into the Sun & Moon Poetry Festival, I invited him to take part in the Haiku Death Match. It was fascinating watching audiences respond to his performances. People literally swooned over his tiny, powerful poems. So, I invited him to do a little chapbook for Full/Crescent press, and that turned into De caña de maíz y miel: 12 haikus de Ohio / On Cornstalks and Honey: 12 Ohio Haiku. Haiku are very hard to write, and the original poems he gave me needed a lot of work, so the process was similar. “Is this really what you mean? Why did you use this image?” And so on. I was not yet his translator, but we found through that process that we worked very, very well together as poet and editor. It turned into a gorgeous little pocket-sized, hand-stitched chapbook with a cover that was just beautiful. And it sold out almost immediately. When he found himself in need of a new translator a few years ago, he told me he had a new manuscript and asked if I might like to try working together on that, to ensure the work was solid in both languages. And here we are. We’re co-workers and friends, able to be very honest with one another. I’m able to tell him when something is not working—and of course, when it’s working incredibly, beautifully well. He’s able to tell me that something needs to be a certain way and can’t be changed. It’s very give and take and very rewarding for both of us.
Juan: My collaboration with Paula has developed alongside our friendship. Not long ago, translation was often limited to the works of deceased authors. Today, the translation of contemporary poetry is increasingly common—and vital. Many poets now see their work published in multiple languages and take part in international festivals, a trend that reflects the global reach of poetry.
When a poem is translated, the process depends greatly on the poet’s involvement. If you know the language, you work closely with the translator. If not, you trust that the translator will remain faithful to your voice and vision. I feel very fortunate that Paula and I have spent countless hours together on this project—reviewing, discussing, and fine-tuning every line until we both felt completely satisfied.
I always know when Paula is truly moved by a poem—she gets goosebumps. That’s when I know we’ve done something right.
Paula: (Yeah, that goosebump part is absolutely true.)
As past participants, how does it feel to be coming to Winter Wheat as a reader this year? How might that experience feel different for you?
Paula: Well, I can say for myself that I’m thrilled, as I last read in Prout Chapel as an MFA student in 1995 and 1996. I was focused on fiction at the time and read both years with poet Tania Runyan, who is still a close friend. So to come back as an invited guest reader, and as a poet, and as part of a translation project, is deeply meaningful. It’s an honor to have been invited back to read, and it’s humbling to think of all the ways my work as a writer has changed in nearly 30 years!
Juan: It’s an honor—one I will always cherish—to have been invited to Winter Wheat. It’s a meaningful opportunity to engage with both regional and national writers, to learn from their work, and to share my own.
As a poet who writes primarily in Spanish, my mother tongue, I’m aware that language can sometimes limit access to new readers. But translation changes that. It opens doors, allowing English-speaking readers to connect with and appreciate my poetry.
I was genuinely thrilled to learn I’d been invited as a guest reader, alongside my friend, poet, and translator Paula J. Lambert. It feels like a living testament to the idea that poetry—shared across borders and languages—can make the world a better place.
Winter Wheat offers a moment to connect with other poets, to explore new paths, and to feel welcomed by the vibrant Ohio poetry community.
Can you speak to your experiences at Winter Wheat? What have you encountered/experienced? What has kept you returning?
Paula: I’ve heard so many extraordinary writers at Winter Wheat! Tyehimba Jess was a favorite, when Leadbelly was brand-new. That was a favorite poetry collection for so many years. Carl Phillips was just lovely, as was Camille Dungy. Allison Joseph…so many great writers and readers. For a while, several years after I graduated from the program, I came back to BGSU to teach, so it was easy to attend, and it always felt like a reunion of sorts, as many former students and faculty would come to town for it. In recent years, I’ve tried to come up more often again and though I recognize fewer attendees each time, it’s always great to meet new people, and it’s interesting to see what the current MFA students especially are interested in and wanting to teach. And of course it’s been a chance to think through whatever new project I’m working on, as when Juan and I together taught a workshop on the long poem. At the time, I was writing very, very long poems, and Juan and I had just started working on his manuscript, which is made up of short poems but together tell a single, long story. Teaching is always a wonderful discovery process as, if you’re going about it right, it makes you think hard, in explaining to someone else, about what exactly you’re doing and why. And of course you learn so much from your students in the questions they ask and what they share of the projects they’re working on. I think all writing, ultimately, and even all teaching, is at its core collaborative. It’s a discovery process for everyone.
Juan: Paula and I first participated in Winter Wheat two years ago. At that time, we presented some of our initial translations and reflected on the fresh, unfolding experience of co-creation. It is a true joy to return as invited guests—to share what has happened since, how the manuscript has evolved, and what we envision for the future of El camino que lleva nuestros nombres / The Path that Carries Our Names.
Winter Wheat has become, for us, a kind of homecoming—a return to the wellspring of language and creative energy. Like going back to the well to draw water, we return in search of poetry—expecting it, welcoming it, dreaming it.
There’s a poem in the manuscript that speaks to this feeling:
“Wandering my Dreams, I Find Direction”
We’ll drink water from the well.
We’ll meditate.
We’ll meditate within these dreams,
unraveling mysteries not yet revealed.
Paula J. Lambert and Juan Rojas’ translation chapbook, The Path that Carries Our Names, a collection of poetry written by Rojas translated from Spanish by Lambert, was published in the most recent issue of The Mid-American Review. Rojas is a Mexican-American transborder poet, essayist, and scholar. He currently serves as the President of the Hispanic Ohio Writers Association. Lambert is an alumna of Bowling Green’s MFA program and author of five full-length poetry collections. Lambert owns Full/Crescent Press, a small publisher of poetry books and broadsides, through which she has founded and supported numerous public readings and festivals that support the intersection of poetry and science. You can read our guest readers’ full bios here.
