The trick with such translations is not to translate literally, as that often results in a rhythmically awkward or unwieldy expression, but to craft a suitably poetic equivalent.
Elohim was the name of God for the Israelite (northern) tribes.
IHVH was the name of the God of the Judeans (southern tribe).
Since both religions were based on the belief in a single, Creator, God, the two traditions were knitted into one when the refugees of the northern kingdom were absorbed into Judea following the destruction of the northern kingdom by the Assyrians around 725 BCE, at the instruction of the Judean King Ezekiah.
This is one of those fun questions, like “Mummy—how do babies come into the world?”, or “How does Santa deliver our presents when we have no chimney?” The actual history is a lot more prosaic but more interesting than the pat answers, such as that the Hebrew words for water (mayim) and sky (shamayim) are also seemingly plural but are not (actually they are, as they use plural adjectives as well, and if quacks like a duck and waddles like a duck—it’s a duck). Talmudic tradition of centuries ofis capable of much greater feats than that—such as why placing restrictions on women is really a sign of respect, or why there are several different answers to what happens when .
I saw a wall graffito once:
God is dead.
And just below it (in different handwriting, and clearly more recent):
Nietzsche is dead.