Let's think about tiny happiness of people who work as a translator. They, especially on literature, seem to be in such a lucky place to have an privilege. They can stand by a writer most closely aside, behind or whatever. They look as if they were a couple or two siblings alone. If a translator spends all his or her time on the work for years, they as good as take each other for better or for worse. They are doing a three-legged race, well, more than that! They are one person together and the person plays two roles.
During this time, the translator can undergo funny "metamorphosis". It's a reward that sustains the work which doesn't pay off considering its hardship. For myself, I translated some novels of the writer of "The Metamorphosis" . In those days, there were a lot of scenes of Kafka: he was writing smoothly, agonizing, pondering with his pen down on his desk... On every scene, I stood by, witnessed and even became Kafka himself.
If I was asked for my name during the work at that time, I would possibly answer in a whisper, "I am Franz Kafka".