李煜 Li Yu: 虞美人 Yu Meiren (Lady Yu, the Royal Beauty/Concubine)

Li Yu (937-978):  Yu Meiren (Lady Yu, the Royal Beauty/Concubine)  

1  Spring flowers and autumn moon, O when will all these end?

2  How much of my past I comprehend?

3  Last night, to my loft once more, the vernal east wind came;

4  In moonlight, I could not bear to look back towards my  

         homeland rid of my name.

5  Jade steps and carved railings may still as ever be there,

6  Though changed are the faces fair.

7  O how great, how grave, I ask, can my woe and sorrow be?

8  Just like the River’s swelling spring-tide waters

         rolling east to the sea.
      
Translated by Andrew W.F. Wong (Huang Hongfa)        譯者: 黃宏發

10^th May 2012 (revised 15.5.12; 16.5.12; polished 14.5.13; 15.5.13)

Translated from the original - 李煜:  虞美人

1  春花秋月(葉)何時了

2  往事知多少

3  小樓昨夜又東風

4  故國不堪回首  月明中

5  雕欄玉砌應猶在

6  只是朱颜改

7  問君能有幾多愁

8  恰似一江春水  向東流

Notes:

*    The original poem is in two 4-line stanzas each made up of 2 rhyming couplets of different line-lengths in a  7-5-7-9 (characters/words) pattern.  The length pattern and rhyme scheme of the whole poem can be diagrammatically represented as 7A/ 5A/ 7B/ 9B// 7C/ 5C/ 7D/ 9D//.  In my English rendition, I have adhered to the AABB/CCDD rhyme scheme.  For line-length, I have used hexameter (6 beats) for the four 7-character lines, tetrameter (4 beats) for the two 5-character lines, and octameter (8 beats) for the two 9-character lines.  Here, the octameter (rare in English poetry) is made less breathless by breaking it up into a pentameter (5-beat) line followed by a trimester (3-beat) line.  This, in essence, accords with the natural reading of the original poem’s 9-character line as a line of 6 plus 3 characters.

*    Line 1:  I had originally rendered it as “Spring flow’rs then autumn moon: O when will the cycle end?” which lays bare (with the addition of the word “cycle”) an interpretation akin to Hawkes’ “seasons still roll on” (David Hawkes, p. 30 in  Alice W. Cheang ed. “A Silver Treasury of Chinese Lyrics”, Hong Kong: Renditions of The Chinese University Press, 2003) and also similar to Msckintosh and Ayling’s “cease their come and go” (Alan Ayling and Duncan Mackintosh, p. 63 in their “A Collection of Chinese Lyrics”, London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1965), but have now decided to retain all the ambiguities of the original poem, thus “Spring flowers and autumn moon, O when will all these end?”

*    Line 2:  I had originally penned “Of my past, how much I comprehend?” but have decided that “How much of my past I comprehend?” sounds much better.  For the word “comprehend”, both “com-” and “-hend” should be read stressed.

*    Lines 1 and 2:  I have faithfully translated both lines as rhetorical questions.

*    Line 3:  I had considered adding “from home” and make the second half of the line to read “from home the east wind came”, but have decided for “the vernal east wind came” to make clear that the “east wind” 東風 in the line refers to “spring wind”.

*    Line 4:  I have taken 月明中 to mean “in moonlight there and then” (where the poet was supposed to be).  I have, therefore, rejected interpreting 故國…月明中 as “moonlit homeland” and have reversed the order of 月明中 “In moonlight” (from the end to the front to begin the line) and 故國 “my homeland rid of my name” (from the front to the end to end the line).  I had considered “a homeland stripped of my name”, “a homeland now rid of my name” and “my homeland I lost in shame”, and have now decided for “my homeland rid of my name”.  I had considered turning the line into a rhetorical question by translating 不堪 “I could not bear” as if it were 何堪 “how could I bear” but have decided to be faithful to the original line 4 which concludes the first stanza of the poem.

*    Line 5:  I had originally penned “Carved railings and jade steps” following the original order, but have new decided for “Jade steps and carved railings”.  I have taken 應猶在 to mean “I think must still be there” and have therefore used “may” instead of “must” or “should”.  I have added “as ever” primarily to complete the hexameter (6-beat) line, which fortuitously adds weight to the idea that “steps and railings” do not change in contrast to “the faces fair” in line 6.

*    Line 6:  The 2 words “changed” and “are” should be read stressed to make the line tetrametric (4-beat).  The word “changed” can be read in 2 syllables as “chan-ged” or at least elongated.

*    Line 7:  I had originally used the far from literal “how far, how wide” to translate 幾多 (how many/much) but have now decided for “how great, how grave” which is closer to, though still not, the literal meaning. 

*    Line 8:  I had considered “’Tis just like” and “’Tis like”, but have decided for “Just like”.  I had originally penned “a river of swollen spring flood waters”, but have now decided for “the River’s swelling spring-tide waters” (with “swelling” chosen over “swollen” for the sound, and “spring-tide” chosen over “spring flood” to suggest a lot of water but not to the extent of flooding)..  I have interpreted 一江 not as “a river” or “one river” but as “the whole River”.  “R” is capitalized because it refers to the mighty 長江 (Long/Grand River) or 揚子江 (Yangtse River) on whose south bank stands the poet’s former imperial capital.  At the end of the line and the poem, I have added “to the sea” (not in the original) to complete the “be (7), sea (8)” rhyme..

*    Lines 7 and 8:  If, after all, “how far, how wide” is considered more appropriate, the lines may read:

7    O how far, how wide, I ask, do my woes and sorrows go?

8a   Just like the River’s swelling springtide waters

8b      forever eastwards flow.

  

崔顥 Cui Hao: 長干曲 4首 其1 其2 Song of Chang'gan 1 and 2 of 4

Following my August post of a Chinese love poem of the 13th century, I am posting today 2 more Chinese love poems of the 8th century by the Tang dynasty poet Cui Hao, which I have recently translated.  Cui Hao had written a total of 4 poems of the same title.  These 2 are the more popular ones and are complete in telling the story of the beginnings of a courtship with the woman of Hengtang (part of Changgan) taking the initiative in Song I and the man, in Song II, responding gingerly (but not unfavourably) as he, though born in Changgan, now lives in Jiujiang some distance away.  I now give you my rendition of Cui Hao's originals:- 

I. Cui Hao (704?-754): Song of Chang'gan 1 of 4 (The Woman's Song) 

1  (Yourself and folks, sir, where do you live?)

   Your folks, yourself, sir, where do you live?  (revised 3.9.13)

2  Myself I live, sir, in embanked Hengtang.

3  I’m staying my boat to ask you this, we

4  May well belong to the same home town.

Translated by Andrew W.F. Wong (Huang Hongfa)   譯者: 黃宏發

24^th June 2013 (revised 25.6.13; 26.6.13; 27.6.13; 28.6.13; 29.6.13; touched up 28.8.13)
Translated from the original - 崔顥: 長干曲(行) 4首 其1

1   君家何處住

2   妾住在橫塘

3   停船暫借問

4   或恐是同鄉

Notes on Song 1 (The Woman's Song):-

*    This English rendition is in tetrameter (4 metrical feet) while the original is in 5-character lines.  The rhyme scheme is XAXA as in the original. 
*    Title:  Changgan 長干 is the district along the Qinhuai River 秦淮河 (in present day Nanjing 南京, Jiangxu Province 江蘇省).  曲 or 行 means “song”.  The title of the poem “Song of Changgan” refers to a verse (words or lyrics) written to the music or tune of the song.  The poet had written 4 poems of the same title, this being the first which is supposed to be the song of a woman.  I have, for clarity, added to the title “The Woman’s Song” in brackets.
*    Line 1:  I have rendered 家 not as “home” but as “folks”.  I have translated 住 simply and literally as “live”. The word “sir” translates 君 more or less perfectly.  Both the original 君 and the translation as “sir” are masculine and serve to hint at but not really revealing the feminine identity of the person speaking. 
*    Line 2:  The word 妾 (together with the word 君 in line 1) in the Chinese original fully reveals the speaker’s feminine identity.  As I am unable to find an equivalent for 妾 in English, I had considered “I’m a girl who lives, sir,” but found it inadequate as the female concerned could be a “spinster”, “widow” or any sort of “woman”.  I have, therefore, decided for “Myself I live, sir” hoping that the mere repetition of the word “sir” will work the magic of further strengthening the hint suggested in line 1, if not completing it.  As for 橫塘 “Hengtang”, it was the name of a place in Changgan (in present day Nanjing) along the Qinhuai River where embankments had been built and so named.  I had originally penned “in Hengtang renown” so as to complete the “renown-home town” rhyme.  I have now decided for “in embanked Hengtang” with the word “embanked” added to explain in the English rendition the meaning of 橫塘  despite the less than perfect rhyme of “Hengtang-home town”.
*    Line 3:  I had originally penned “I stay my boat just to ask you this” but have now revised it to “I’m staying my boat to ask you this,” with the word “we” moved up from line 4 to create an enjambment instead of end-lining it. .
*    Line 4:  I have translated 同鄉  as “the same home town”.  To make up the whole line, I had considered various combinations of “perhaps, maybe, may, may well” and “are from, have come from, belong to” and have decided for “(we) May well belong to the same home town” with the word “belong” suggesting a closer affinity.


II. Cui Hao (704?-754): Song of Chang'gan 2 of 4 (The Man's Song)

1  I live in Jiujiang, or Rivers Nine; 
2  To it and through it, a sailboat I ply.
3  From birth to youth we never met, yet
4  Natives of Changgan, both you and I.

Translated by Andrew W.F. Wong (Huang Hongfa)      譯者: 黃宏發
9^th July 2013 (revised 10.7.13; 16.8.13; touched up 28.8.13)
Translated from the original - 崔顥: 長干曲(行) 4首 其2

1  家臨九江水
2  來去九江側
3  同是長干人
4  生小不相識

Notes on Song 2 (The Man's Song):-

*    This English rendition is in tetrameter (4 metrical feet) while the original is in 5-character lines.  The rhyme scheme is XAXA as in the original.

*    Title:  Please see my note on the Title in my rendition of Cui Hao’s “Song of Changgan I (The Woman’s Song), this being “II (The Man’s Song)”.

*    Line 1:  Jiujiang 九江 is in present day Jiangxi Province 江西省 on the south-west border of the Jiangxu Provinve 江蘇省 where Nanjing 南京 and Changgan長干 are located.  Literally, the line should be “My home is by the waters of (a place called) Jiujiang (nine rivers)” which effectively means “My home is in Jiujiang” or simply “I live in Jiujiang”.    I have, therefore, rendered it as “I live in Jiujiang, or Rivers Nine)” with “I live” instead of “My home is” to translate 家 and with “or Rivers Nine” added to explain the name of Jiujiang which also helps to compensate for the omission of 水 “the waters of” in my rendition.  I had considered adding “now” to “I live … in Jiujiang …” to make clear that the man no longer lives in Changgan, but have decided against it.

*    Line 2:  I have again taken Jiujiang 九江 to be a place and not, literally, nine rivers, and have refrained from repeating it but have translated it simply as “it”.  來去 is effectively translated by “ply” together with “To it and through it”.  I had considered “To it and from it” but have decided for “through it” hoping this will somehow cover the word 側 “by the side of”.  I have added “a sailboat” which, though not present in the original, is implied in the context and is required to complete the 4-beat meter.

*    Lines 3 and 4:  I have reversed the order of these 2 lines primarily to complete the “ply-I” rhyme, but       also to strengthen my optimistic interpretation of lines 3 and 4. These 2 songs (the woman’s Song I and this, the man’s Song II) are clearly courting love songs.  To further strengthen this interpretation, I have added the open-ended word “yet” instead of the rather neutral if not pessimistic “though” to link up the 2 lines.  生小 is rendered as “from birth to youth” and 不相識, simply as “we never met” instead of the literal “never knew each other/one another” which will make it sound  impersonal and aloof..        

管道昇 Guan Daosheng: 我儂詞 Song of Me and You/ Clay Figures

This is a love poem purportedly written by a lady painter named 管道昇 Guan Daosheng (Kuan Tao-Sheng) wife of the famed calligraphist 趙孟頫 Zhao Menghu in the early years of the 元 Yuan (Mongols) dynasty (1271-1368).

Legend has it that Zhao was considering marrying a second wife (a concubine) which was a commonplace practice in China in those days particularly among the rich and powerful and Zhao was a very high-ranking government official.  Though Guan was unhappy, she did not create a row but simply wrote this little love poem.  Zhao found the poem and was so moved that he at once dropped all such thoughts.  After Guan passed away, Zhao never re-married and chose to be buried with Guan.

The famed American poet and translator of Chinese poetry Kenneth Rexroth did a superb translation of this poem which he has entitled "Married Love" from which I have borrowed, specifically the idea of "figure".  I will reproduce here his rendition at the end of my notes below.  www.bopsecrets.org/rexroth/translations/chinese.htm 

Here is my rendition:-      

Guan Daosheng (1262-1319): Song of Me and You/ Clay Figures)

1  (You and I, O I and you, so much in love are we;)

    You and me, and me and you, so much in love are we;
    (revised 27.8.13)
2  So much in love, like bathing in fire are we.

3  We knead and shape a clod of clay into figures of you and me:
4  We smash, trash our two figures, add water to admix the debris
5  To again knead and shape fresh figures of you and me;
6  In my clay then, you'll abide, and in yours, there I'll be.

7  (O you and I, in life, one single quilt we share,)
    O me and you, in life, one single quilt we share,
    (revised 27.8.13)
8  In death, in the same coffin, please bury me.

Translated by Andrew W.F. Wong (Huang Hongfa)   譯者: 黃宏發

15^th July 2009 (revised 16.7.09; 17.7.09; 23.9.09; touched up 7.8.13; 27.8.13)
Translated from the original - 管道昇: 我儂詞

1  你儂我儂 忒煞情多

2   情多處 熱似火

3   把一塊泥 捻一個你 塑一個我

4   將咱兩個 一齊打破 用水調和

5   再捻一個你 再塑一個我

6   我泥中有你 你泥中有我

7   我與你 生同一個衾

8   死同一個槨

Notes:

*  I have arranged the original 17 lines (of varying lengths) into 8 lines (also of varying lengths) grouped in 3 stanzas to make easier reading.  The English rendition follows this arrangement.  The rhyme scheme is AA-AAAA-BA which follows the original under this arrangement.

*  Title and line 1:  The word 儂 usually means “you你/妳” but can also mean “I/me我” or even “he/she 他/她” depending on the context.  I have taken the first 儂 in line 1 to mean “I/me” hence你儂 means “You and I”.  As for the 儂 in the title and the second 儂 in line 1, the usual “you” meaning should be followed since the order of words is 我儂 which must mean “me and you”.

*    Line 2:  For 熱似火 I had considered the literal “as hot as fire are we” but have decided for the more poetic (I hope) “like bathing in fire are we”.

*    Line 3:  For 一塊泥 I had considered “a piece of clay” but have decided for “a clod of clay” for the alliteration. 

*    Lines 3 and 5:  Instead of putting 捻 ”knead” and 塑 “shape”( and 你 “you” and 我 “me”) in two segments of the line as separate segments, I have collapsed the two and have rendered them conjointly as “knead and shape… figures of you and me”.  In the context of “knead and shape”, “you and me” must mean “figures of you and me”.

*    Line 4:  Similar to “you and me” above, I have rendered 咱兩個 as “our two figures” and not literally as “the two of us”.  In the context of 打破 “smash, trash”, the expression must mean the two figures.  I have added the word “debris” (which is not in the original) for the rhyme.

*    Line 5:  To translate 再 I have used “again” and “fresh”.  I had considered “new” but have decided for “fresh” for the alliteration in “fresh figures”.

Kenneth Rexroth's translation of the poem:=
-

Kuan Tao-Sheng:  Married Love

You and I

Have so much love,

That it

Burns like a fire,

In which we bake a lump of clay

Molded into a figure of you 

And a figure of me.

Then we take both of them,

And break them into pieces, 

And mix the pieces with water,

And mold again a figure of you,

And a figure of me.

I am in your clay.

Your are in my clay.

In life we share a single quilt.

In death we will share one coffin.

Postscript 1 (dated 13.8.2013):  I have now changed the title from "I and You Song" to "Song of Me and You".  The poem was turned into a real song by 李抱忱 (1907-1979) who wrote the music and adapted the words of the poem to the music.  It became very popular in the 1970's and was sung by one and many song stars including 姚蘇蓉 which can be easily accessed, say on the "youtube".  I enjoy in particular the rendition by 包娜娜.  Link:: http://mojim.com/tw_search_u2_hBqzAyjif1U.html.  Hope you like it too.
I have learned from the web that 李抱忱 entitled this song 請相信我 subtitled 你儂我儂 which was first sung by 陳明律 and here is the link:  http://mojim.com/tw_search_u2_Z0wLiMQuEds.html?h=%E5%8C%85%E5%A8%9C%E5%A8%9C%2B%E4%BD%A0%E5%84%82%E6%88%91%E5%84%82.
I have further learned from the web that 李抱忱 also wrote the English lyrics of this song under the title of "Believe Me Dear", but have been unable to find the words.  Will anyone help, please? .

Postscript 2 (dated 27.8.2013):  Following my revision of the title in the last postscript, I have now also revised (a) line 1 to read "You and me, O me and you, so much in love are we" and (b) line 7 to read "O me and you, in life".  These revisions are effected in the post.  

王之渙 Wang Zhihuan: 涼州詞/ 出塞 Song of Liangzhou/ Out to the Frontier

Looking through my old files, I found this 7-character quatrain by Wang Zhihuan which I translated in early 2009 and which I now wish to share with you.  I hope you will read the bleakness and desolateness of the landscape into the heart of the soldier stationed at the frontier.  The word 春 (spring) which metaphorically stands for "youth", "health" and "life" as in 回春 (return to health) is most telling which subtly suggests that line 4 means "there is no life beyond Yumen Pass" 

You may remember I posted here my rendition of another 7-character quatrain of the same title "Song of Liangzhou" by Wang Han.  It was in October 2009.  In this other poem, the imminence of battle and the approach of death are much more obvious in 醉卧沙場 "in battle drunk I lie" and 幾人回 "how many ... ever came home alright".  回 which should be "came home alive" had been rendered as "came home alright" just for the rhyme.  Could this be a perfect example of sacrificing (or, at least, jeopardizing) the meaning for the rhyme?  Mea culpa!   

Wang Zhihuan (688-742): Song of Liangzhou/ Out to the Frontier

1  Ascends the Yellow River, to afar where white clouds amass;

2  Forlorn, here lies a fortress, by the towering mountain mass.

3  O why, to the Tune of the Willow, must pipers ever bemoan?

4  Ah the genial winds of springtime cross not the Yumen Pass.

Translated by Andrew W.F. Wong (Huang Hongfa)  譯者: 黃宏發

16^th January 2009 (revised 19.1.09; 18.2.09; 4.7.11; polished 2.7.13)
Translated from the original - 王之渙:  涼州詞/ 出塞

1  黃河(沙)遠上白雲間

2  一片孤城萬仞山

3  羌笛何須怨楊柳

4  春風不度玉門關

Notes:

*  The original is in 7-character lines.  This English rendition is in hexameter (6 metrical feet).  The rhyme scheme is AAXA as in the original.

*  Line 1:  I have adopted the 黃河 (river) version instead of the 黃沙 (sand) one, and had originally penned the opening as “Hails the Yellow River, from afar” as I thought it more natural to speak of a river coming down than going up.  I have now decided for “Ascends the Yellow River, to afar” to literally correspond with 黃河遠上.  I had originally used “cumulus” to translate 白雲 but have now decided for “white clouds” for being more literal.  For 間 “in the middle of”, I have used “where … amass” which opens the rhyme. 

*  Line 2:  I had considered “Here lies a city solitary/a solitary citadel” and “Here lies a forlorn fortress”, but have decided for “Forlorn, here lies a fortress”.  I have simply used “towering” to describe how tall the mountains are instead of the unrealistic hyperbole of 萬仞 10,000 “yin” (a Chinese unit of measurement of about 2 metres).  I had considered “massif” to translate 山, but have decided for “mountain mass” to continue the rhyme.

*  Line 3:  楊柳 “willow” here means both the lack (or a scarcity) of willows and a tune entitled “The Willow”, and I have chosen the latter which would (together with the lack of genial spring winds in the next line) also include the former meaning (of bemoaning the lack of willows).  羌笛 means the pipe (more appropriate than flute) of the Qiang tribe (a north-western people), known for the melancholic quality of its sound.  I had originally used “the tribal pipes/pipers”, then considered the literal “Qiang tribe pipe/pipers” and the explanatory “sad/woeful pipes/pipers”, but have decided to drop them altogether in favour of the formulation “must pipers ever bemoan”.

*  Line 4:  I have added the word “genial” to highlight the geniality of spring and the harshness of the frontier.  “Ah, the genial winds of springtime cross not the Yumen Pass” is obviously an exaggeration but is, in fact, the hyperbole of the original. 

      

張旭 Zhang Xu: 桃花谿 The Peach-Blossom Brook

The anthology "300 Tang Poems" features only one single poem by Zhang Xu who was more famous for his cursive (草書, characters executed swiftly and with strokes flowing together) calligraphy than his poetry.  But the subject matter referred to in the poem is of great interest.  It is the story of a fisherman who found and lost his paradise of peach blossoms as told by the Jin 晉 dynasty poet Tao Qian 陶潛 or Tao Yuanming 陶淵明 (365-427) in his "The Peach-Blossom Springs: Poem and Chronicle" 桃花源：詩並記.  Please find the story in my Note on the Title.  Here goes my rendition of the poem:-

Zhang Xu (circa 711):  The Peach-Blossom Brook

1 In haze there hangs a beam bridge, the wilderness fog here ends;

2   By the west of a boulder, a fisher, to my query his ear he lends---

3   Down this clear brook from paradise, peach petals drift all day, but

4  Where is that cave, its gateway, ‘long the brook’s braes and bends?

Translated by Andrew W.F. Wong (Huang Hongfa)   譯者: 黃宏發

17^th April 2013 (revised 23.4.13; 25.4.13; 29.4.13; 29.5.13)
Translated from the original - 張旭:  桃花谿

1  隱隱飛橋隔野烟

2  石璣西畔問漁船

3  桃花盡日隨流水

4  洞在清溪何處邊

Notes:

*    This English rendition is in hexameter (6 metrical feet) while the original is in 7-character lines.  The rhyme scheme is AAXA as in the original.

*    Title:  桃花 rendered as “peach-blossom” (in the title) and as “peach petals” (in line 3) and the word 洞 “cave” in line 4 of the poem clearly indicate this poem follows from a much earlier poem and, particularly, its chronicle, i.e. the 桃花源：詩並記 “The Peach-Blossom Springs: Poem and Chronicle” by 陶淵明 Tao Yuanming (365-427) of the 晉 Jin dynasty.  Tao’s chronicle tells of a fisherman who followed through a “peach- blossom” grove to the source springs of the brook or stream, found a “cave” and went through it to discover a “paradise” of a land whose people had been living there happily since 5 centuries ago completely cut off from the outside world.  After enjoying their warm hospitality for a few days, he left, marking his way out, thinking he could always return, but was never able to find his way again.  The poem is about the people and their life in that heaven on earth.  I had originally rendered 谿 (in the title) and 溪 (in line 4) as “stream” but have now decided for “brook”

*    Line 1:  (a) 隱隱飛橋:  I had considered “half-hidden” or “haze-hidden” (for the “h” alliteration) and “haze-veiled” or “veiled in haze” (for the “ei” assonance) to translate 隱隱 but have now decided for the simple “in haze”.  I have taken 飛, literally “fly”, to figuratively mean “high/tall” but have, instead of using any such words, rendered the idea of 飛 as “hangs”.  I take this “high” bridge to be a beam bridge spanning from one side of the brook or stream (probably a ravine) to the other, hence, “there hangs a beam bridge”.  I hope the “h” alliteration in “haze” and “hangs” proves adequate to represent the beauty of the reiterative 隐隱.  (b) 隔野煙:  I have taken 隔 to primarily mean 阻隔 “cut off’ and not 分隔 “divide”.  The latter gives a visually impossible picture of a hazy bridge “dividing” the fog/mist/haze in the wilderness into 2 halves, to the left and right.  The former, on the other hand, gives a clear foreground of a stream, a hazy bridge in the middle, and a background of a blurred, misty, foggy wilderness.  I had considered translating 野煙 as “foggy wilderness” but have decided to stick to the literal “wilderness fog”..

*    Line 2:  I had considered interpreting 石磯西畔 as “boulder on the west bank (of the stream)” but have decided for “west of a boulder (whether on the east bank or mid-stream)”.  I have turned 問 “I ask a question” to “he listens to my question”, hence, “to my query his ear he lends”.  I could have followed Shakespeare’s “lend me your ears” (Mark Antony’s famous speech in “Julius Caesar”) and used the plural “ears” but have decided to follow my friend Barry Dalton’s advice to stick to the proverbial “lend an ear” in the singular.  漁船 is rendered as “fisher” which, though means “fisherman”, can also mean “fishing boat”. 

*    Line 3:  In order to make clear the meaning of the poem, I have added the word “paradise” (not in the original), which idea (of a “heaven on earth”) is the essence of the poem,  I have, therefore, rendered 隨 as “drift” and 流水 as “down this (clear) brook” with “from paradise” added and have translated 桃花盡日 literally as “peach petals” and “all day”.  The word “clear” 清 (shown in parenthesis above) is moved up from line 4 where I can find no space for it, as explained in the note below.

*    Line 4:  As the poem is about a man on the same quest as the Jin dynasty fisherman   in Tao’s chronicle, I find it necessary to build  into the line the idea that the “cave” 洞  is the “way in” 入口  for which  I had considered variously “entrance”, “entry”, “passage”, “portal”, etc. and have now decided for “gateway” and have rendered the word 洞 as “that cave, its gateway”.  In order to complete the “ends-lends” rhyme,  After considering adding either “ascends” or “bends” (neither word in the original) and penned the second half of the line as “as my boat on the clear brook ascends” (with “boat” and “ascends” added) or “’long the clear brook’s banks and bends” (with only “bends” added) so as to cover 清溪  “clear brook”, I have decided to move the idea of “clear” 清 to line 3 to read “Down this clear brook”.  Hence, for this second half of line 4, I have decided for “’long(=along) the brook’s braes(=banks) and bends”.   For 何處邊 I had originally leaned toward 何邊 “which bank/side” as the primary meaning but have now decided for 何處 “where” which, in colloquial Cantonese, is 邊處.  Although I suspect the poet might have added 邊 just to complete his rhyme, I have retained the “bank/side” idea in “braes and bends”.  My rendering the “where” idea as “… but (line 3)/ Where is … (line 4)” makes it possible for “Where” to be read accented to represent a plain question but also for “is” to be accented, instead, to show frustration or scepticism.  This retains the ambiguity of the original.    

李白 Li Bai: 望天門山 View of Tianmen Mountain

We are back to Li Bai again.  This is a beautiful little poem I translated some 3 years ago, which has never seen the light of day.  Here we go.  Let us enjoy it.  And share with me your views kind or otherwise.

Li Bai (701-762): View of Tianmen Mountain

1  Through Tianmen’s twin-peak portal, the mighty River churns;

2  East rolls its water all turquoise, till here, its course it turns.

3  Why, green cliffs burst into sight, on banks both left and right;

4  From afar where the sun adjourns, O my solitary sail returns.

Translated by Andrew W.F. Wong (Huang Hongfa)   譯者:黃宏發

4^th June 2010 (revised 11.6.10; polished 2.5.13)
Translated from the original - 李白:  望天門山

1  天門中斷楚江開

2  碧水東流至此回

3  兩岸青山相對出

4  孤帆一片日邊來

Notes:

*    This English rendition is in hexameter (6 metrical feet) while the original is in 7-character lines.  The rhyme scheme is AAXA as in the original.

*    Title and line 1:  天門, literally “Heavenly/Heaven’s Portal” is  the name of a 山 “Mountain”, hence “Tianmen Mountain” in the title.  In line 1, it is simply rendered as “Tianmen(‘s)” with the ideas of “heaven” and “mountain” covered in my rendering 中斷 as “twin-peak portal”.  The said mountain, in present day Anhui 安徽 Province, assumes the appearance of being “cut” 斷 in the “middle” 中 into two peaks by the “Long” 長 (or “Yangzi” 揚子) “River” 江.  The 楚江 “Chu River” referred to in the poem was the name of this section of the Long River.  I have translated 開 (meaning open/break open) as “through” and have picked “churns” both for the meaning of agitated water movement and for the rhyme.

*    Line 2:  For 碧 I had considered variously “aquamarine”, “aqua”, “bluish”, “aqua-blue”, "of turquoise" and "a-turquoise" but have now decided  for “all turquoise”.  回 here does not mean “return” but should be taken as 迴 which means “turn/twist/meander”.  I had considered “the river-course turns”, “it meanders, it turns”, “it meanders and turns”, “meandering, it turns” and “due north it turns”, but have now decided for “its course it turns”.

*    Line 3:  This is a motion picture of sailing downstream (generally eastwards) on the Long River through Tianmen Mountain passing cliff after cliff.  相對 (facing) 出 (appear/emerge) should be visualized not as cliffs facing each other but as facing the sailboat and its passenger and is, therefore, rendered as “burst (or thrust/rush) into sight”.

*    Line 4:  日邊 is open to interpretation.  Although I do not believe it means where the sun rises or sets, but simply “far/afar/faraway” and is equivalent to 天邊/際 (literally the fringe/edge of the sky/heaven), I have nonetheless added “where the sun adjourns” (to stand for the west from where the poet sailed) for the internal rhyme of “adjourns-returns” to parallel the internal rhyme of “sight-right” in line 3.  來 which means "come/arrive" is narrowed down to mean 回來 "returns" both for the rhyme and for the mood of returning to a land of the poet's pleasant memories.

岑參 Cen Shen: 逢入京使 On Meeting an Official Courier to the Capital

First, yesterday was the day of the traditional Chinese festival of 清明 Qingming.  This year it happens to fall on the 4th (rather than the usual 5th) day of April.  This has prompted me to make some revisions to my rendition of a 杜牧 Du Mu poem entitled 清明 "Qingming" which I posted here 3 years ago in April 2010.  The most significant change is in the title and the first line.  The title now reads "Qingming, Early April" instead of "Qingming, the Fifth of April" and line 1, therefore, reads "It is Qingming, early April, a season of mizzles and gloom".  I have now taken away reference to 5th day but have retained the solar month of April.  Please visit:  http://chinesepoemsinenglish.blogspot.hk/2010_04_01_archive.html

Now, for this month, I am posting my latest translation completed only a week ago.  This is a beautiful quatrain by Tang dynasty poet 岑参 Cen Shen (7 poems collected in the classic anthology "300 Tang Poems"), particularly famous for his frontier poems.  

This is a very simple poem about a man going to the frontier (to war?), meeting on his way a courier returning from the frontier and asking this courier to tell his family that he is safe.  It is, therefore, important that the words 龍鍾 should not be taken as "old" or "senile" which is the definition in (I think) all Chinese-English dictionaries (this being the prime and usual meaning), but should be understood in the context of the whole poem and particularly of line 2 itself.  The 雙袖 "pair of sleeves" in 雙袖龍鍾 should be understood literally and not be taken as a metonymy for the pair of arms as soon as we know 龍鍾 can also and should, in this context, mean "wet/dampened".  I am afraid the great Chinese translator 許淵沖 Prof. Xu Yuanzhong (XYZ) might have slipped in translating line 2 as "My old arms tremble and my sleeves are wet with tears" (on p. 202 of Xu, Loh, Wu (eds) "300 Tang Poems: A New Translation" Commercial Press 1987) in which he has covered "sleeves" but has, in addition, probably used it to stand for "arms".   

I will leave it to you readers of this poem to share with Cen Shen his "tears" on "sleeves" (with no handkerchief in hand) which I hope I have kept within limits with the words "sleeves all dampened" and "tears still rolling away".   I had originally penned "My pair of sleeves all dampened" as "My sleeves are all but dampened", but have now found this too controlled, too dry, thanks to the views of my pub friend Mr. Barry Allan Dalton, English Language and Literature master of the St. Rose of Lima's College, Sha Tin, Hong Kong.  Cen Shen, here we go.

Cen Shen (715-770):  On Meeting an Official Courier to the Capital

1        East I look to my homestead, O long, long is the way; 

2        My pair of sleeves all dampened, my tears still rolling away.

3        Here we meet on horseback, no paper nor pen in hand,     

4        So I say: I’m safe and well, sir--- O, tell them this, I pray.

Translated by Andrew W.F. Wong (Huang Hongfa)    譯者: 黃宏發

21^st March 2013 (revised 22.3.13; 24.3.13; 25.3.13; 26.3.13; 27.3.13)
Translated from the original - 岑參:  逢入京使

1        故園東望路漫漫

2        雙袖龍鍾淚不乾

3        馬上相逢無纸筆

4        憑君傳語報平安

Notes:

*    This English rendition is in hexameter (6 metrical feet) while the original is in 7-character lines.  The rhyme scheme is AAXA as in the original.

*    Line 1:  For 故園 which is literally “old fields” but meaning “home”, I have come to consider “homestead” to be most appropriate as this word means “the place of one’s home; the town/village where one’s dwelling is; a dwelling; a house with its dependent buildings … esp(ecially) a farm-stead”.  (Shorter Oxford)  I can of course change it to the more literal “home fields” but would rather not as it is a bit too pompous.  For 東 in 東望, I had considered variously “Eastwards”, “Back east”, “Due east” and have now decided for the simple “East”, hence “East I look”.   I had considered using “road” to translate 路 but have decided for “way”  in order to make the “way, away, pray” rhyme possible.  It appears “O long, long is the way is preferable to “long, O long is the way” as the former sounds a bit longer.

*    Line 2:  龍鍾 should not be taken to mean “old” or “senile”.  The poem is about a man sent and on his way to the western frontier, and this context dictates that he cannot be too old.  I have, therefore, adopted the meaning of 沾濡濕潤 “wet” (definition “1-3” in the Chinese dictionary 辭源) and have rendered it as “all dampened”.  I had considered but rejected other formulations such as “soaked and drenched” and “drenched and dripping”.  For 雙袖 I had considered variously “My sleeves”, “My two sleeves”, “Both my sleeves” and “My sleeves both” but have now decided for the most literal “My pair of sleeves”.  I beg to invoke poetic licence for omitting, in the interest of brevity, the 2 verbs “sleeves [are] all dampened” and “tears still [keep] rolling” in the first and second halves of the line respectively.  

*    Line 3:  I had considered the addition of the 2 ideas of “happen or chance to (meet)” and “(meet) here” which are logically implied in the words 相逢 of the original , i.e. “We chance to meet here (on horseback)”, but have decided to keep it simple and have dropped the “chance” idea, hence, simply “Here we meet on horseback”.  For 無纸筆 I had considered “no paper nor brush” as the Chinese pen is technically a “brush”, but have chosen “no paper nor pen” as I take “pen” to be generic of “brush” and for the rather poetic “p” alliteration          

*    Line 4: 平安, being the message to be conveyed, is rendered as “safe and well” (over “safe and sound”) and is advanced to the forefront.  憑君傳語報, being the request for the spoken message to be conveyed, is rendered as “So I say … sir” and “O, tell them this, I pray”.  I had originally penned the line as “Sir, I’m safe, I’m sound, I say, please tell them this, I pray”, but have now, after a couple of revisions, decided for “So I say: I’m safe and well, sir--- O, tell them this, I pray”.