A Secluded Flower
How it flashes when I poke the leaves open!
This tiny flower, pinkish and heart-shaped,
Determined enough to show its nakeness before my eyes.
So delicate that I almost will it not to survive the daylight
In the summer's end.
Only in the forest, out of the path, can it be seen, alone.
March 28, 2008
隐的花
看它多么耀眼，在我拨开的叶子后。
这朵小花，嫩粉色的心形，
这么娇弱，却坚定地将赤裸展现在我眼前，毫无羞耻。
我几乎宁愿它无法承受日光，
只有在森林，下了小径，才能被我看到，
单独开放，而夏天行将结束。
2008年3月28日
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Ogaden Nash: A Word for Husbands
A Word for Husbands
Ogaden Nash (1902-1971)
To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you're wrong, admit it;
Whenever you're right, shut up.
给丈夫们进一言
奥伽顿·纳什
tr. Fan Jinghua
要想你婚姻之爱的杯盏
爱情的甘醇溢满
错误时你得勇于承认
正确时你应默不作声
Ogaden Nash (1902-1971)
To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you're wrong, admit it;
Whenever you're right, shut up.
给丈夫们进一言
奥伽顿·纳什
tr. Fan Jinghua
要想你婚姻之爱的杯盏
爱情的甘醇溢满
错误时你得勇于承认
正确时你应默不作声
Walt Whitman: So Long
So Long
Walt Whitman
4
My songs cease—I abandon them;
From behind the screen where I hid I advance personally, solely to you.
Camerado! This is no book;
Who touches this, touches a man;
(Is it night? Are we here alone?)
It is I you hold, and who holds you;
I spring from the pages into your arms—decease calls me forth.
O how your fingers drowse me!
Your breath falls around me like dew—your pulse lulls the tympans of my ears;
I feel immerged from head to foot;
Delicious—enough.
Enough, O deed impromptu and secret!
Enough, O gliding present! Enough, O summ’d-up past!
作别
沃尔特·惠特曼
tr. Fan Jinghua
4
我的歌不再――我将它们抛了；
从藏身的幕后我真面走出来，独自向你。
同道们！这不是书本而已；
触摸它，也就是触摸一个人；
（入夜了吗？这儿只有我们了吗？）
你拥着的是我，拥着你的也是我；
我从书页间跳出，跳进你的怀抱——死亡将我唤了出来。
你的手指令我昏昏欲睡！
你的呼吸犹如露水洒滴在我周围――你的脉动抚慰我的耳膜；
我感觉自己沉浸其中，从头到脚；
甜美――足矣！
足矣，这即兴而秘密的契约！
足矣，稍纵即逝的此刻！足矣，归结起来的过去！
Walt Whitman
4
My songs cease—I abandon them;
From behind the screen where I hid I advance personally, solely to you.
Camerado! This is no book;
Who touches this, touches a man;
(Is it night? Are we here alone?)
It is I you hold, and who holds you;
I spring from the pages into your arms—decease calls me forth.
O how your fingers drowse me!
Your breath falls around me like dew—your pulse lulls the tympans of my ears;
I feel immerged from head to foot;
Delicious—enough.
Enough, O deed impromptu and secret!
Enough, O gliding present! Enough, O summ’d-up past!
作别
沃尔特·惠特曼
tr. Fan Jinghua
4
我的歌不再――我将它们抛了；
从藏身的幕后我真面走出来，独自向你。
同道们！这不是书本而已；
触摸它，也就是触摸一个人；
（入夜了吗？这儿只有我们了吗？）
你拥着的是我，拥着你的也是我；
我从书页间跳出，跳进你的怀抱——死亡将我唤了出来。
你的手指令我昏昏欲睡！
你的呼吸犹如露水洒滴在我周围――你的脉动抚慰我的耳膜；
我感觉自己沉浸其中，从头到脚；
甜美――足矣！
足矣，这即兴而秘密的契约！
足矣，稍纵即逝的此刻！足矣，归结起来的过去！
Afaa Weaver: Lovers and Flowers
Lovers with Flowers
Afaa Weaver
Can you contain my most intimate whisper,
settle it down after it has entered you,
make it a part of you and still cling
to my hand as gently as your eyes hold me?
Something must protect our weakness,
our mortality, and I choose the petal
and the leaf for their own transcience,
as life is emboldened by mortal fear.
In this light through this glass and wood,
I sleep confidently in your murmurs and dreams,
deaf to significance, delighting
in our petty island of flowers and silences.
You have turned my soul to blazing pith.
情侣与花
阿发·韦佛尔（蔚雅風）
tr. Fan Jinghua
你能否接纳我最亲密的低语，
在它进入你之后为它安家，
让它成为你的一部分，而依然粘着
我的手，轻柔如你的眼神将我拥抱？
某种东西必然要守护我们的怯弱，
我们难免一死，而我选择做花瓣
与叶子，因为它们独有的转生术，
生，借着凡人对死的畏惧而勇敢。
这片光穿过这玻璃与木头，而我
安睡其中，坦然沉入你的呢喃与梦，
对意义充耳不闻，只是欣悦于
花朵与沉默营造出我们不足道的岛屿。
你已将我的灵转化成炽灼的精髓。
Note: I was invited to Afaa Weaver's first Simmons International Chinese Poetry Conference in 2004 at which I met him for the first time. I was reading a paper on language issues in translation, especially the impact of the so-called translation style upon modern and contemporary Chinese poetry writing, and also read some of my poems.
Afaa Weaver
Can you contain my most intimate whisper,
settle it down after it has entered you,
make it a part of you and still cling
to my hand as gently as your eyes hold me?
Something must protect our weakness,
our mortality, and I choose the petal
and the leaf for their own transcience,
as life is emboldened by mortal fear.
In this light through this glass and wood,
I sleep confidently in your murmurs and dreams,
deaf to significance, delighting
in our petty island of flowers and silences.
You have turned my soul to blazing pith.
情侣与花
阿发·韦佛尔（蔚雅風）
tr. Fan Jinghua
你能否接纳我最亲密的低语，
在它进入你之后为它安家，
让它成为你的一部分，而依然粘着
我的手，轻柔如你的眼神将我拥抱？
某种东西必然要守护我们的怯弱，
我们难免一死，而我选择做花瓣
与叶子，因为它们独有的转生术，
生，借着凡人对死的畏惧而勇敢。
这片光穿过这玻璃与木头，而我
安睡其中，坦然沉入你的呢喃与梦，
对意义充耳不闻，只是欣悦于
花朵与沉默营造出我们不足道的岛屿。
你已将我的灵转化成炽灼的精髓。
Note: I was invited to Afaa Weaver's first Simmons International Chinese Poetry Conference in 2004 at which I met him for the first time. I was reading a paper on language issues in translation, especially the impact of the so-called translation style upon modern and contemporary Chinese poetry writing, and also read some of my poems.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Fan Jinghua: Rape
Rape
When I went away, myself cut off
Believing nothing hurtful could reach
I was broken in by rapist dreams about you
March 27, 2008
强暴
当我远离，将自己割断
以为再没什么痛苦能够触及
强暴的梦侵入了我，对你
2008年3月27日
When I went away, myself cut off
Believing nothing hurtful could reach
I was broken in by rapist dreams about you
March 27, 2008
强暴
当我远离，将自己割断
以为再没什么痛苦能够触及
强暴的梦侵入了我，对你
2008年3月27日
Fan Jinghua: Gravity
Gravity
Perhaps overstuffed
My head is bent toward the ground
To prevent a nervous breakdown
And then I find
everything is too busy trying
going upward
to notice those happily lying down
March 26, 2008
重力
或许因为填得太满
我的头
为了阻止一场神经崩溃
向大地低垂
这时我才发现
一切都在忙于上升
根本看不到那躺倒的幸福
2008年3月26日
Perhaps overstuffed
My head is bent toward the ground
To prevent a nervous breakdown
And then I find
everything is too busy trying
going upward
to notice those happily lying down
March 26, 2008
重力
或许因为填得太满
我的头
为了阻止一场神经崩溃
向大地低垂
这时我才发现
一切都在忙于上升
根本看不到那躺倒的幸福
2008年3月26日
Fan Jinghua: Too Tired
Too Tired
I am too tired to love you any more,
But I am too tired to be out of it.
March 25, 2008
太累
我爱你爱得太累，难以为继，
累得无力走出来，难以不爱。
2008年3月25日
I am too tired to love you any more,
But I am too tired to be out of it.
March 25, 2008
太累
我爱你爱得太累，难以为继，
累得无力走出来，难以不爱。
2008年3月25日
Fan Jinghua: Half Moon
Half Moon
The moon is only half left, hanging beneath the clouds,
Still bright, like my mutilated love
Hanging itself on the crotch of your limbs.
March 25, 2008
半个月亮
月亮还剩一半，挂在云层下，
依然明媚，有如我肢残的爱
要将自己吊死在你肢体的杈上。
2008年3月25日
The moon is only half left, hanging beneath the clouds,
Still bright, like my mutilated love
Hanging itself on the crotch of your limbs.
March 25, 2008
半个月亮
月亮还剩一半，挂在云层下，
依然明媚，有如我肢残的爱
要将自己吊死在你肢体的杈上。
2008年3月25日
Fan Jinghua: Roadside Tigerlilies
Roadside Tigerlilies
Over the weekend, they uprooted and removed
The tigerlilies I used to pass by every morning
Before I could pluck any
Even though it could never be for you
Passing-by the bush reminds me of the life and love of yours
Something else is now planted there
Someone else would love to associate it with someone or something else
Now it is raining, and I am sure the new plant will grow
But I could not even imagine
Whether we could ever get drenched in rains together
March 26, 2008
路旁的虎纹百合
我每个清晨路过的那丛虎纹百合
在周末被拔除了
我还没来得及摘下一朵
虽然不可能是为你而采
但是每次路过，我都会想到你的生活与爱
今天，那儿已被种上了别的植物
会有人乐于将它与别的人或别的事联系起来
此刻正下雨，新植物定会长得很好
而我甚至不记得
我们是否曾在雨中一同淋湿
2008年3月26日
Over the weekend, they uprooted and removed
The tigerlilies I used to pass by every morning
Before I could pluck any
Even though it could never be for you
Passing-by the bush reminds me of the life and love of yours
Something else is now planted there
Someone else would love to associate it with someone or something else
Now it is raining, and I am sure the new plant will grow
But I could not even imagine
Whether we could ever get drenched in rains together
March 26, 2008
路旁的虎纹百合
我每个清晨路过的那丛虎纹百合
在周末被拔除了
我还没来得及摘下一朵
虽然不可能是为你而采
但是每次路过，我都会想到你的生活与爱
今天，那儿已被种上了别的植物
会有人乐于将它与别的人或别的事联系起来
此刻正下雨，新植物定会长得很好
而我甚至不记得
我们是否曾在雨中一同淋湿
2008年3月26日
Fan Jinghua: So Much Like in This World
So Much Like in This World
My heart is where it’s always been
My head is somewhere in between
--U2, “Even Better Than the Real Thing”
Along the drainage gurgling after rain, I walk in palish dawn light.
The construction site is quiet, apartment houses-to-be are still
Standing columns of reinforcing steel bars with half-filled concrete.
I walk between two compartmentation walls of coated iron sheets,
The future corridors linking barbeques pits, chalets and swimming-pools.
Imagine! I am descending and ascending marble steps between courtyards
Bordering different quarters of concubines and ladies-in-waiting.
I turn as delicately carved corridors turn, incense towers stand alone
Washed in the moonlight that shines through the low-cut windows,
And I have been walking like this as a vampire for many centuries.
What can I understand and attain? If I think, is my mind impeded?
The moon is always found full and bright when one is alone, or vice versa.
The great moonlight is compartmented by temporary walls into a simple maze,
And I walk to take up some of the filled space of light with my body.
March 25, 2008
何似在人间
转朱阁，低绮户，照无眠。
——苏轼《水调歌头·中秋有怀子由》
沿着雨后潺潺的排水沟，我在苍白的晨光里
穿行于一个建筑工地，一片宁静，将来的公寓楼
仍然是竖着的钢筋柱，混凝土填到了半截。
我走在油漆了的铁皮分隔墙之间，想到这儿
将是游廊，连接着烧烤台、凉亭与游泳池。
我走着走着，就踏上了庭院的玉阶，拾级而上、暖步而下，
两侧有偏殿与厢房，而亭阁独立，披着冷冷的月光，
沿着雕砌的栏杆，左折右拐，那儿通往嫔妃隐秘的宫闱。
沿途看低开的窗户下龙凤纠缠于祥云与藤蔓之间，
而我这样走着，就走了好几个世纪，像吸血鬼一样。
月亮总在人们独自的时刻又圆又亮，或者反之。
我有何得何智？若我有所思，我的心是否已有挂碍？
巨大的月光被临时的隔墙划成简单的迷宫，我走
在其中，以运动着的身体占有注满了光线的空间。
2005年3月26日
My heart is where it’s always been
My head is somewhere in between
--U2, “Even Better Than the Real Thing”
Along the drainage gurgling after rain, I walk in palish dawn light.
The construction site is quiet, apartment houses-to-be are still
Standing columns of reinforcing steel bars with half-filled concrete.
I walk between two compartmentation walls of coated iron sheets,
The future corridors linking barbeques pits, chalets and swimming-pools.
Imagine! I am descending and ascending marble steps between courtyards
Bordering different quarters of concubines and ladies-in-waiting.
I turn as delicately carved corridors turn, incense towers stand alone
Washed in the moonlight that shines through the low-cut windows,
And I have been walking like this as a vampire for many centuries.
What can I understand and attain? If I think, is my mind impeded?
The moon is always found full and bright when one is alone, or vice versa.
The great moonlight is compartmented by temporary walls into a simple maze,
And I walk to take up some of the filled space of light with my body.
March 25, 2008
何似在人间
转朱阁，低绮户，照无眠。
——苏轼《水调歌头·中秋有怀子由》
沿着雨后潺潺的排水沟，我在苍白的晨光里
穿行于一个建筑工地，一片宁静，将来的公寓楼
仍然是竖着的钢筋柱，混凝土填到了半截。
我走在油漆了的铁皮分隔墙之间，想到这儿
将是游廊，连接着烧烤台、凉亭与游泳池。
我走着走着，就踏上了庭院的玉阶，拾级而上、暖步而下，
两侧有偏殿与厢房，而亭阁独立，披着冷冷的月光，
沿着雕砌的栏杆，左折右拐，那儿通往嫔妃隐秘的宫闱。
沿途看低开的窗户下龙凤纠缠于祥云与藤蔓之间，
而我这样走着，就走了好几个世纪，像吸血鬼一样。
月亮总在人们独自的时刻又圆又亮，或者反之。
我有何得何智？若我有所思，我的心是否已有挂碍？
巨大的月光被临时的隔墙划成简单的迷宫，我走
在其中，以运动着的身体占有注满了光线的空间。
2005年3月26日
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Fan Jinghua: A Potted Flower
A Potted Flower
You recline on your mother’s couch, supine half-nude
The soul of a potted begonia rajah growing on the rococo windowsill
Like Bach’s adagio, tiny flowers of heart, pinkish in thought
Is there difference between the deceased and the bygone
March 24, 2008
盆中花
你倚躺在你妈妈留下的睡榻上，仰卧的半裸
一盆秋海棠王的灵在洛可可纹的窗台上生长
如巴赫的柔板，心型的小花，白中带粉的念头
长已矣的逝者与有缘无分的生者有何区别
2008年3月25日晨
You recline on your mother’s couch, supine half-nude
The soul of a potted begonia rajah growing on the rococo windowsill
Like Bach’s adagio, tiny flowers of heart, pinkish in thought
Is there difference between the deceased and the bygone
March 24, 2008
盆中花
你倚躺在你妈妈留下的睡榻上，仰卧的半裸
一盆秋海棠王的灵在洛可可纹的窗台上生长
如巴赫的柔板，心型的小花，白中带粉的念头
长已矣的逝者与有缘无分的生者有何区别
2008年3月25日晨
Fan Jinghua: Song of Pain
Song of Pain
When you bloom you are a healed wound of my love;
When you wither, you are a sad note to my life.
My scar exhales from under its smooth new skin
A moisture that even dampens autumn things in the sun...
Don't tell, don't break open and make me learn anew,
Even if your womb itches to hold me like a crowing cock.
Please don’t tell! I am too mortal to be born again.
After so many years, I know how to fuck myself...
March 24, 2008
痛的歌
看你花开艳丽，愈合我爱情的伤口；
看你萎败凋谢，脚注我人生的悲愁。
我的旧伤从它光洁无毛的新皮下
蒸发出一种潮湿，令一切沮丧、令阳光照射下的秋天也不会松脆……
别说，别说！不要逼着我重学一遍！
即使你的子宫痒痒地想吸我进去，犹如我是一只啼叫的雄鸡，
哦！拜托！不要说破！我已凡俗得不会投胎转世。
这么多年了，我自己也已学会如何操我自己。
2008年3月24日晨
When you bloom you are a healed wound of my love;
When you wither, you are a sad note to my life.
My scar exhales from under its smooth new skin
A moisture that even dampens autumn things in the sun...
Don't tell, don't break open and make me learn anew,
Even if your womb itches to hold me like a crowing cock.
Please don’t tell! I am too mortal to be born again.
After so many years, I know how to fuck myself...
March 24, 2008
痛的歌
看你花开艳丽，愈合我爱情的伤口；
看你萎败凋谢，脚注我人生的悲愁。
我的旧伤从它光洁无毛的新皮下
蒸发出一种潮湿，令一切沮丧、令阳光照射下的秋天也不会松脆……
别说，别说！不要逼着我重学一遍！
即使你的子宫痒痒地想吸我进去，犹如我是一只啼叫的雄鸡，
哦！拜托！不要说破！我已凡俗得不会投胎转世。
这么多年了，我自己也已学会如何操我自己。
2008年3月24日晨
Fan Jinghua: A Dying Cat
A Dying Cat
I am closing my eyes and breathing through the cuts on my neck,
My whiskers will not measure narrow holes but to drive any mosquitoes.
The stuffy air that I have shared with rats I will not take any more,
In the tabernacle between banyan roots, I lie down, among ants,
Wishing my life will be given to tonight’s starlight or tomorrow’s sun.
March 21, 2008
一只垂死的猫
我闭上眼睛，以我脖子上的伤口呼吸，
胡须不再用来测量窄洞，而是驱赶蚊虫。
我再也不必和老鼠们分享污浊的空气，
此时，我躺在菩提树下，如在蚂蚁崇拜的神龛，
祈求自己的生命是交付给了星光或太阳。
2008年3月21日
I am closing my eyes and breathing through the cuts on my neck,
My whiskers will not measure narrow holes but to drive any mosquitoes.
The stuffy air that I have shared with rats I will not take any more,
In the tabernacle between banyan roots, I lie down, among ants,
Wishing my life will be given to tonight’s starlight or tomorrow’s sun.
March 21, 2008
一只垂死的猫
我闭上眼睛，以我脖子上的伤口呼吸，
胡须不再用来测量窄洞，而是驱赶蚊虫。
我再也不必和老鼠们分享污浊的空气，
此时，我躺在菩提树下，如在蚂蚁崇拜的神龛，
祈求自己的生命是交付给了星光或太阳。
2008年3月21日
Fan Jinghua: An Elegy for Love
The first draft of last posting "Song of a Suicidal Lover"
An Elegy for Love
It is a hurt to seek a love that attempts to pay for another;
if a love is to be measured in terms of heart and soul
there will be no love at all, for love exists only when unrequited.
That taste I began to know and enjoy was cut short,
and it left behind all the bitterness I’ve been trying in vain to forget
and in fear I cannot help but bringing its pungency back to mind.
Any single hurt is unlimited. It befalls and falls unstoppable
into all the nights without your body or image near.
Your words of farewell to a fare-thee-well, which the eroticized
spring breezes cannot bring to flower again, are so undead
that even the bees of my life will not sting for honey.
They are wax, guiltily pleasant to fondle,
when the slit eye of the moon slants through the window
or when morning birds are testing their eager songs somewhere outside.
March 11, 2008
爱情挽歌
苦追试图与爱者匹配的爱情，那是自求伤害；
如果爱情企图折换成心与灵的读数，
爱情就已消失，因为爱只有在单恋之中存在。
那个中滋味我刚开始体略，就被立即斩断，
留下所有的苦涩给我徒然地遗忘，令我
恐惧于遗忘，而不得不在信中回味那种刺激。
任何单独的伤都有无穷的伤害力。一旦落下
将无法阻挡地进入所有没有你的深夜。
你告别的话说得美好，连春情萌动的风
也难以令它们开出花来，那么毫无生机，
甚至连我生命的蜜蜂也不会叮咬的花心。
这是蜡，抚摸起来会带来令人愧疚的愉快，
而月亮的小眯眼总在这时斜斜地射进窗户，
或者晨鸟急不可耐地在外面某处初试它们的嗓音。
2008年3月16日
An Elegy for Love
It is a hurt to seek a love that attempts to pay for another;
if a love is to be measured in terms of heart and soul
there will be no love at all, for love exists only when unrequited.
That taste I began to know and enjoy was cut short,
and it left behind all the bitterness I’ve been trying in vain to forget
and in fear I cannot help but bringing its pungency back to mind.
Any single hurt is unlimited. It befalls and falls unstoppable
into all the nights without your body or image near.
Your words of farewell to a fare-thee-well, which the eroticized
spring breezes cannot bring to flower again, are so undead
that even the bees of my life will not sting for honey.
They are wax, guiltily pleasant to fondle,
when the slit eye of the moon slants through the window
or when morning birds are testing their eager songs somewhere outside.
March 11, 2008
爱情挽歌
苦追试图与爱者匹配的爱情，那是自求伤害；
如果爱情企图折换成心与灵的读数，
爱情就已消失，因为爱只有在单恋之中存在。
那个中滋味我刚开始体略，就被立即斩断，
留下所有的苦涩给我徒然地遗忘，令我
恐惧于遗忘，而不得不在信中回味那种刺激。
任何单独的伤都有无穷的伤害力。一旦落下
将无法阻挡地进入所有没有你的深夜。
你告别的话说得美好，连春情萌动的风
也难以令它们开出花来，那么毫无生机，
甚至连我生命的蜜蜂也不会叮咬的花心。
这是蜡，抚摸起来会带来令人愧疚的愉快，
而月亮的小眯眼总在这时斜斜地射进窗户，
或者晨鸟急不可耐地在外面某处初试它们的嗓音。
2008年3月16日
Fan Jinghua: Song of a Suicidal Lover
Song of a Suicidal Lover
It is a beautiful dream, with a sad refrain.
Allan Taylor “Kerouac’s Dream”
It is suicidal to requite love, to make both
hope for a balance in uncertain motion,
as if two drops of dew roll toward each other
along a grass blade in the morning breeze
and merge at the broadest part
before they evaporate.
What attraction has that precision and will?
Does it have a special language or a unique tool?
Could a love which can be expressed in words be
the love that houses intact content of its own?
What desire can be so exclusive and differentiable
that it conveys a heart and soul
not in the terms of shared shallowness
but in place of an absent body?
The moment a love is known and enjoyed between two,
it starts to stale, as one will take it
to the street, to give it a name.
The other is left alone in the bathroom, to get drowned,
like a razor blade in the foamy tub
before it makes a final cut on the smooth white ceramic
as the body slides into its warmth.
The temples will shine, wet with a lonely name tag
of “a consummate lover,” whose love snows as proudly
as a sailboat in a crystal ball.
What cold climate may be called one’s own?
What cold hole exists in the moisture?
The bitterly flavorless aftertaste will last longer, which
to remember is vain and to forget is fear.
Any cut, if isolated, hurts without limit,
as if a desperate one cut on the board of a boat
to mark the spot where an overboard chest of treasures falls.
The cut is always present,
while the cutter is borne away on the water,
and he can do nothing but adding another cut to make a cross.
Everything is now in the wound, sappy, and it speaks
a subliminal language that no human receptive organs are up to.
One has to feel it with flesh and internals, but words, once said,
become airborne, and none will return to the budding impulse.
Love exists forever and only
when unbalanced, and I love you, with
no “see you later,” like you have never existed.
March 11-16, 2008
自杀的情歌
那是一个美丽的梦，有悲伤的叠句。
---阿伦·泰勒《凯鲁亚克的梦》
回报， 令彼此总能
在不确定的移动中取得平衡，
这是自杀的企图，犹如希望两滴露珠
沿着晨风中的草叶滚向彼此，
在最宽处的中线上融为一体，在蒸发之前。
怎样的吸引力具有那样的精确与意志？
它是否有一种特别的语言和专用的工具？
被语言表示出去的爱
是否无损于它原本拥有的内容？
怎样的欲望能够如此无所不包而又精细入微，
传达一棵心、一尾灵
不是漂浮在人人共享的横面
而是替代那缺席的身体？
一旦爱情与两个人相知相识，它将被
一个人会带到大街上，给它
一个名字，然后，它便能满街漂浮。
另一个人被留在浴室，
犹如剃刀片切入浴缸里堆积的泡沫，
随着那身体滑进温暖，
在白瓷边缘留下最后的刻痕。
太阳穴，歪着，闪着湿湿的干净的光，
一只孤独的标签，注明这是“一个完满的情人”，
雪一样自傲地爱着一种纯粹，犹如水晶球中的帆船。
怎样的寒冷可以称之为惟我自己拥有？
怎样的洞穴存在于这弥漫的雾气中？
惟有那无味得苦涩的余味持久不散，
记起，是虚妄，忘却，是恐惧。
每道单独的伤口都是无尽的深渊，
正如一个人将百宝箱扔进海里，另一个人
在船舷上刻下记号，表明那坠落的地点。
刻痕永远在眼前，
而那刻的人已经被水载走，
绝望中，那人只能在原处又刻一道，
那记号变成了十字。
一切都蕴涵在伤口，流出液汁，说
听阈之下的语言，人类的感应器官无法企及。
必须以肉与内脏感受，而字，一旦说出口，
便委身于空气，再也不会回到含苞的冲动。
爱，永远只存在于不平衡中；
我爱你，没有“来日再见”，
犹如你从未存在于此世。
2008年3月18-19日
It is a beautiful dream, with a sad refrain.
Allan Taylor “Kerouac’s Dream”
It is suicidal to requite love, to make both
hope for a balance in uncertain motion,
as if two drops of dew roll toward each other
along a grass blade in the morning breeze
and merge at the broadest part
before they evaporate.
What attraction has that precision and will?
Does it have a special language or a unique tool?
Could a love which can be expressed in words be
the love that houses intact content of its own?
What desire can be so exclusive and differentiable
that it conveys a heart and soul
not in the terms of shared shallowness
but in place of an absent body?
The moment a love is known and enjoyed between two,
it starts to stale, as one will take it
to the street, to give it a name.
The other is left alone in the bathroom, to get drowned,
like a razor blade in the foamy tub
before it makes a final cut on the smooth white ceramic
as the body slides into its warmth.
The temples will shine, wet with a lonely name tag
of “a consummate lover,” whose love snows as proudly
as a sailboat in a crystal ball.
What cold climate may be called one’s own?
What cold hole exists in the moisture?
The bitterly flavorless aftertaste will last longer, which
to remember is vain and to forget is fear.
Any cut, if isolated, hurts without limit,
as if a desperate one cut on the board of a boat
to mark the spot where an overboard chest of treasures falls.
The cut is always present,
while the cutter is borne away on the water,
and he can do nothing but adding another cut to make a cross.
Everything is now in the wound, sappy, and it speaks
a subliminal language that no human receptive organs are up to.
One has to feel it with flesh and internals, but words, once said,
become airborne, and none will return to the budding impulse.
Love exists forever and only
when unbalanced, and I love you, with
no “see you later,” like you have never existed.
March 11-16, 2008
自杀的情歌
那是一个美丽的梦，有悲伤的叠句。
---阿伦·泰勒《凯鲁亚克的梦》
回报， 令彼此总能
在不确定的移动中取得平衡，
这是自杀的企图，犹如希望两滴露珠
沿着晨风中的草叶滚向彼此，
在最宽处的中线上融为一体，在蒸发之前。
怎样的吸引力具有那样的精确与意志？
它是否有一种特别的语言和专用的工具？
被语言表示出去的爱
是否无损于它原本拥有的内容？
怎样的欲望能够如此无所不包而又精细入微，
传达一棵心、一尾灵
不是漂浮在人人共享的横面
而是替代那缺席的身体？
一旦爱情与两个人相知相识，它将被
一个人会带到大街上，给它
一个名字，然后，它便能满街漂浮。
另一个人被留在浴室，
犹如剃刀片切入浴缸里堆积的泡沫，
随着那身体滑进温暖，
在白瓷边缘留下最后的刻痕。
太阳穴，歪着，闪着湿湿的干净的光，
一只孤独的标签，注明这是“一个完满的情人”，
雪一样自傲地爱着一种纯粹，犹如水晶球中的帆船。
怎样的寒冷可以称之为惟我自己拥有？
怎样的洞穴存在于这弥漫的雾气中？
惟有那无味得苦涩的余味持久不散，
记起，是虚妄，忘却，是恐惧。
每道单独的伤口都是无尽的深渊，
正如一个人将百宝箱扔进海里，另一个人
在船舷上刻下记号，表明那坠落的地点。
刻痕永远在眼前，
而那刻的人已经被水载走，
绝望中，那人只能在原处又刻一道，
那记号变成了十字。
一切都蕴涵在伤口，流出液汁，说
听阈之下的语言，人类的感应器官无法企及。
必须以肉与内脏感受，而字，一旦说出口，
便委身于空气，再也不会回到含苞的冲动。
爱，永远只存在于不平衡中；
我爱你，没有“来日再见”，
犹如你从未存在于此世。
2008年3月18-19日
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Fan Jinghua: Spring Evening
Spring Evening
Those phoenix trees hold the last rays of the sun,
they transfix you, and a halo rises out of your head.
Two swallows glide in, hooking your eyes.
They make two arches, almost parallel, the longest in the world,
as if at each end someone hangs heavy, dangling.
* * * * * * * *
Words can describe what you see, but they won’t convey the sight.
In this warmth, you mutter, one even has no tempers to lose.
So you walk backward along the outmost track on the playing field.
The kids are still playing football, five-a-side, on a basket court.
You stand by, watching, till a straying ball comes by,
and you stop it and kick it back.
The boy after the ball gives you a big sunny smile.
Your man has his business dinner, which means
he will not come back before the late night show of romance
makes you sick of the bedroom.
You are walking on driveway to the apartment buildings,
in the heated theme song of a TV drama about some emperor.
March 18-19, 2008
春暮
梧桐的树梢上，夕阳的残辉
浓、暗，你的灵魂在头上盘旋。
而两只燕子，划出平行的弧线，
钩住你的眼睛。
这是世界上最长的线，或许
两头都挂着人，晃悠悠地垂着。
＊ ＊ ＊ ＊
看到的物体，你可以描述，
但是没有语言可以传达景象。
在这氤氲的春暖中，你退着走，
在操场最外一圈的跑道上。
男孩们还在踢球，在篮球场上，
五人一方。你站在一边，看，
直到一只踢歪了球滚向你的方向；
你挡住，踢了回去，
那个追过来的男孩笑得很阳光。
今晚，你的男人仍然是应酬，不可能
在夜场言情剧令你厌恶卧室之前回来。
而此刻你走在公寓院子里的行车道上，
门卫的小房间传出帝王剧亢奋的主题歌。
2008年3月19日
Those phoenix trees hold the last rays of the sun,
they transfix you, and a halo rises out of your head.
Two swallows glide in, hooking your eyes.
They make two arches, almost parallel, the longest in the world,
as if at each end someone hangs heavy, dangling.
* * * * * * * *
Words can describe what you see, but they won’t convey the sight.
In this warmth, you mutter, one even has no tempers to lose.
So you walk backward along the outmost track on the playing field.
The kids are still playing football, five-a-side, on a basket court.
You stand by, watching, till a straying ball comes by,
and you stop it and kick it back.
The boy after the ball gives you a big sunny smile.
Your man has his business dinner, which means
he will not come back before the late night show of romance
makes you sick of the bedroom.
You are walking on driveway to the apartment buildings,
in the heated theme song of a TV drama about some emperor.
March 18-19, 2008
春暮
梧桐的树梢上，夕阳的残辉
浓、暗，你的灵魂在头上盘旋。
而两只燕子，划出平行的弧线，
钩住你的眼睛。
这是世界上最长的线，或许
两头都挂着人，晃悠悠地垂着。
＊ ＊ ＊ ＊
看到的物体，你可以描述，
但是没有语言可以传达景象。
在这氤氲的春暖中，你退着走，
在操场最外一圈的跑道上。
男孩们还在踢球，在篮球场上，
五人一方。你站在一边，看，
直到一只踢歪了球滚向你的方向；
你挡住，踢了回去，
那个追过来的男孩笑得很阳光。
今晚，你的男人仍然是应酬，不可能
在夜场言情剧令你厌恶卧室之前回来。
而此刻你走在公寓院子里的行车道上，
门卫的小房间传出帝王剧亢奋的主题歌。
2008年3月19日
Niu Han: Two Poems
牛汉诗两首
夜
关死门窗
觉得黑暗不会再进来
我点起了灯
但黑暗是一群狼
还伏在我的门口
听见有千万只爪子
不停地撕袭着我的窗户
灯在颤抖
在不安的灯光下我写诗
诗不颤抖！
Night
by Niu Han tr. Fan Jinghua
Seal the door and shut the window
And I feel that darkness is screened off
I light my lamp
But darkness is a pack of wolves
Lurking outside my door
Thousands of claws
Scratching and mauling my windows
My lamp trembles
Under its quivering light I write
My poems don’t tremble
半棵树
真的，我看见过半棵树
在一个荒凉的山丘上
像一个人
为了避开迎面的风暴
侧着身子挺立着
它是被二月的一次雷电
从树尖到树根
齐楂楂劈掉了半边
春天来到的时候
半棵树仍然直直地挺立着
长满了青青的枝叶
半棵树
还是一整棵树那样高
还是一整棵那样伟岸
人们说
雷电还要来劈它
因为它还是那么直那么高
雷电从远远的天边就盯住了它
A Half Tree
by Niu Han tr. Fan Jinghua
Truly, I used to see
A half tree standing on a bleak hilltop
Like a man
Avoiding the frontal assaults of storms
It erects in profile
After a February thunderbolt
It split up into halves
One half of its trunk entirely chopped off
When the following spring came
The remnant still stood
Bolt upright with lush leaves on new twigs
Half a tree stands
As lofty and majestic
As the one that was whole
People say
Thunderbolts would hack it again
As it still stands so high and straight
It makes a conspicuous target for the distant thunderbolts
About the Author:
牛汉(1923-)，原名史成汉，出版的诗集有《彩色的生活》(1951)、《爱与歌》(1954)、《温泉》(1984)、《海上蝴蝶》(1985)、《沉默的悬崖》(1986)、《牛汉诗选》(1998)。
NIU Han (1923-), a.k.a. SHI Chenghan, has published poetry books Colorful Life (1951), Love and Songs (1954), Hot Springs (1984), Butterflies On the Sea (1985), Silent Cliffs (1986), Selected Poems (1998) etc.
夜
关死门窗
觉得黑暗不会再进来
我点起了灯
但黑暗是一群狼
还伏在我的门口
听见有千万只爪子
不停地撕袭着我的窗户
灯在颤抖
在不安的灯光下我写诗
诗不颤抖！
Night
by Niu Han tr. Fan Jinghua
Seal the door and shut the window
And I feel that darkness is screened off
I light my lamp
But darkness is a pack of wolves
Lurking outside my door
Thousands of claws
Scratching and mauling my windows
My lamp trembles
Under its quivering light I write
My poems don’t tremble
半棵树
真的，我看见过半棵树
在一个荒凉的山丘上
像一个人
为了避开迎面的风暴
侧着身子挺立着
它是被二月的一次雷电
从树尖到树根
齐楂楂劈掉了半边
春天来到的时候
半棵树仍然直直地挺立着
长满了青青的枝叶
半棵树
还是一整棵树那样高
还是一整棵那样伟岸
人们说
雷电还要来劈它
因为它还是那么直那么高
雷电从远远的天边就盯住了它
A Half Tree
by Niu Han tr. Fan Jinghua
Truly, I used to see
A half tree standing on a bleak hilltop
Like a man
Avoiding the frontal assaults of storms
It erects in profile
After a February thunderbolt
It split up into halves
One half of its trunk entirely chopped off
When the following spring came
The remnant still stood
Bolt upright with lush leaves on new twigs
Half a tree stands
As lofty and majestic
As the one that was whole
People say
Thunderbolts would hack it again
As it still stands so high and straight
It makes a conspicuous target for the distant thunderbolts
About the Author:
牛汉(1923-)，原名史成汉，出版的诗集有《彩色的生活》(1951)、《爱与歌》(1954)、《温泉》(1984)、《海上蝴蝶》(1985)、《沉默的悬崖》(1986)、《牛汉诗选》(1998)。
NIU Han (1923-), a.k.a. SHI Chenghan, has published poetry books Colorful Life (1951), Love and Songs (1954), Hot Springs (1984), Butterflies On the Sea (1985), Silent Cliffs (1986), Selected Poems (1998) etc.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Taneda Santoka Free-Verse Haiku
Taneda Santoka Free-Verse Haiku
to the sound
of flowing water
found my way down to the village
向着
流水声
找到小路通到村
not a cloud in sight
off comes my hat
满眼无云
斗笠掉
clear bright morning
straw sandals
feel just right
晨光清明
草鞋
正合脚
sound of waves
far off close by
how much longer to live?
潮音
时远时近
还能活多久
not a scrap of cloud in it
sky lonelier than ever
满天不见一丝云
天空可曾更孤独
at times
I stop begging
looking at mountains
偶尔
懒得讨
驻足只看山
no more houses
to beg from
clouds on the mountain
再无人家
可去讨
群山之上白云飘
windy night
a sound of tapping
at the door
有风之夜
传来
一声叩门
autumn
already reddening
the leaves of the mountain sumac
秋
已红了
山上的漆树叶
I don’t care
if it does rain—
it rains
我不在乎
是否真的下雨
反正下了
to the sound
of flowing water
found my way down to the village
向着
流水声
找到小路通到村
not a cloud in sight
off comes my hat
满眼无云
斗笠掉
clear bright morning
straw sandals
feel just right
晨光清明
草鞋
正合脚
sound of waves
far off close by
how much longer to live?
潮音
时远时近
还能活多久
not a scrap of cloud in it
sky lonelier than ever
满天不见一丝云
天空可曾更孤独
at times
I stop begging
looking at mountains
偶尔
懒得讨
驻足只看山
no more houses
to beg from
clouds on the mountain
再无人家
可去讨
群山之上白云飘
windy night
a sound of tapping
at the door
有风之夜
传来
一声叩门
autumn
already reddening
the leaves of the mountain sumac
秋
已红了
山上的漆树叶
I don’t care
if it does rain—
it rains
我不在乎
是否真的下雨
反正下了
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Fan Jinghua: Word-Eaters
Word-Eaters
Words have their own god, and it walks
its land, a kingdom, whose boundary forms
a spread-out noose, of fiberglass.
The lot who live on them is doomed,
like a banyan tree, whose roots are
too densely interlocked to let in the dirt
from the previous life, and whose crown is
too umbrageous for the daylight.
But the winking stars and inconstant moon
can easily procure, being in the dark.
The savage god of words has deprived the word-eaters
of the right to stand on their feet, for he who walks about
cannot bear the sight of walking thinkers.
They would appear too like incarnated ghosts.
So they are condemned to squat down, chewing for the juice,
and their crotches and neck grow mosses,
verdant and lowly virile,
but they cannot afford to concentrate on love or hatred.
Such passions
will never become their death wishes; they are parasites
to keep them itchy
so that they have to scratch. This
makes them feel for the bodies they are living in
and know the place to put up themselves,
for the time being.
They do excrete, like a duck that is swallowing a big clam,
making ugly sounds; but if there are pearls,
they are left behind its the night soil.
Two-legged animals will not see during night.
March 14, 2008
食词者
词有自己的神，行于
它的大地，这王国，边界
围成一个套索，玻璃纤维的。
以词语为主食的那帮
是命中注定，犹如一棵菩提树，
根，虬结得太紧密，
前生的泥无法漫上来，
冠，太浓密，今世的日照无法透过。
只有媚眼的星星与多变的月亮
总能轻易就勾引得手，
因为处于黑暗。
词语的神是凶残的，它剥夺了以词为生者
站立的权利，因为它要随意行走，
不能忍受行走着的思考者，
他们太像附上了身体的幽灵。
所以他们注定只能蹲下，咀嚼词的液汁，
腿弯、腿裆连同颈项，都长出
葱绿的苔藓，虽有卑微的阳气，
却不能专心于爱与恨。这样的激情
永不会成为他们的死亡之欲，它们只是寄生者，
令他们瘙痒，需要不时抓挠。
这令他们体恤自己赖以生存的身体，了解
这个暂时存放自己的所在。
他们也要排泄，正如吞下了一只大河蚌的
鸭子，发出更加难听的闷叫。
如果有珍珠，那也是在它遗留于身后的粪便中；
而在夜晚，两条腿的动物是看不见的。
2008年3月14日
Words have their own god, and it walks
its land, a kingdom, whose boundary forms
a spread-out noose, of fiberglass.
The lot who live on them is doomed,
like a banyan tree, whose roots are
too densely interlocked to let in the dirt
from the previous life, and whose crown is
too umbrageous for the daylight.
But the winking stars and inconstant moon
can easily procure, being in the dark.
The savage god of words has deprived the word-eaters
of the right to stand on their feet, for he who walks about
cannot bear the sight of walking thinkers.
They would appear too like incarnated ghosts.
So they are condemned to squat down, chewing for the juice,
and their crotches and neck grow mosses,
verdant and lowly virile,
but they cannot afford to concentrate on love or hatred.
Such passions
will never become their death wishes; they are parasites
to keep them itchy
so that they have to scratch. This
makes them feel for the bodies they are living in
and know the place to put up themselves,
for the time being.
They do excrete, like a duck that is swallowing a big clam,
making ugly sounds; but if there are pearls,
they are left behind its the night soil.
Two-legged animals will not see during night.
March 14, 2008
食词者
词有自己的神，行于
它的大地，这王国，边界
围成一个套索，玻璃纤维的。
以词语为主食的那帮
是命中注定，犹如一棵菩提树，
根，虬结得太紧密，
前生的泥无法漫上来，
冠，太浓密，今世的日照无法透过。
只有媚眼的星星与多变的月亮
总能轻易就勾引得手，
因为处于黑暗。
词语的神是凶残的，它剥夺了以词为生者
站立的权利，因为它要随意行走，
不能忍受行走着的思考者，
他们太像附上了身体的幽灵。
所以他们注定只能蹲下，咀嚼词的液汁，
腿弯、腿裆连同颈项，都长出
葱绿的苔藓，虽有卑微的阳气，
却不能专心于爱与恨。这样的激情
永不会成为他们的死亡之欲，它们只是寄生者，
令他们瘙痒，需要不时抓挠。
这令他们体恤自己赖以生存的身体，了解
这个暂时存放自己的所在。
他们也要排泄，正如吞下了一只大河蚌的
鸭子，发出更加难听的闷叫。
如果有珍珠，那也是在它遗留于身后的粪便中；
而在夜晚，两条腿的动物是看不见的。
2008年3月14日
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Fan Jinghua: No Hold
No Hold
A black cat squats, congenial, like a small temple
Propped up on the Doric column of its foreleg.
Upon washing its fae, it raises the paw,
And an invisible LCD before my eyes is touched.
I look around and see a wall displaying a tropical landscape,
White clouds in the azure sky above green seas
Lined with gracefully arched coconut trees,
The wind from a TV commercial flaring up your long hair
And your frontal silhouette contoured by the blue flowered dress.
This sight is more than real and I can put my hands into it,
But I can hold nothing, no matter how hard or light I grasp.
The cat sits in the midair, beckoning, while you walk
In slow motion on the beach, without any translocation.
These words of mine are still too concrete to blow in the wind.
March, 2008
无执
一只黑猫蹲坐着 和善的 像一座小神庙 拄着
一条前腿 当另一只洗过脸的爪子提起来
一面不可见的液晶屏幕就在我眼前被触摸了
我环顾 四周围着热带海岛的风景——
碧海青天白云 椰子树平行的优美弧线
一段广告片中的风吹起你的长发与蓝花的裙子
真切的 在我眼前 伸手可以插入却只能空握
那只猫坐在半空中招手 你走在沙滩的慢镜头中始终没有移位
而我这些字都太实了 无法在风中飘
2008年3月12日
A black cat squats, congenial, like a small temple
Propped up on the Doric column of its foreleg.
Upon washing its fae, it raises the paw,
And an invisible LCD before my eyes is touched.
I look around and see a wall displaying a tropical landscape,
White clouds in the azure sky above green seas
Lined with gracefully arched coconut trees,
The wind from a TV commercial flaring up your long hair
And your frontal silhouette contoured by the blue flowered dress.
This sight is more than real and I can put my hands into it,
But I can hold nothing, no matter how hard or light I grasp.
The cat sits in the midair, beckoning, while you walk
In slow motion on the beach, without any translocation.
These words of mine are still too concrete to blow in the wind.
March, 2008
无执
一只黑猫蹲坐着 和善的 像一座小神庙 拄着
一条前腿 当另一只洗过脸的爪子提起来
一面不可见的液晶屏幕就在我眼前被触摸了
我环顾 四周围着热带海岛的风景——
碧海青天白云 椰子树平行的优美弧线
一段广告片中的风吹起你的长发与蓝花的裙子
真切的 在我眼前 伸手可以插入却只能空握
那只猫坐在半空中招手 你走在沙滩的慢镜头中始终没有移位
而我这些字都太实了 无法在风中飘
2008年3月12日
Thursday, March 13, 2008
17 Translations of One Poem by Wang Wei
My Three Versions of One Poem by Wang Wei
鹿柴
（唐）王维
空山不见人
但闻人语响
返景入深林
复照青苔上
Deer Village
Wang Wei
In the mountain, human voices resound,
Although not a soul is found.
Striking through the dense woods,
Sunrays spotlight the verdant moss.
tr. FAN Jinghua
Not a soul is spotted in the mountain,
Human voices are heard, though.
Striking through the dense woods,
Sunrays spotlight the verdant moss.
tr. FAN Jinghua
In the mountain, human voices resound,
Although not a soul is found.
Striking through the dense woods,
Sunrays spotlight the verdant moss.
tr. FAN Jinghua
Different Renditions:
So lone seem the hills; there is no one in sight there.
But whence is the echo of voices I hear?
The rays of the sunset pierce slanting the forest,
And in their reflection green mosses appear.
tr. W.J.B. Fletcher, 1919
There seems to be no one on the empty mountain...
And yet I think I hear a voice,
Where sunlight, entering a grove,
Shines back to me from the green moss.
tr. Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu, 1929
An empty hill, and no one in sight
But I hear the echo of voices.
The slanting sun at evening penetrates the deep woods
And shines reflected on the blue lichens.
tr. Soame Jenyns, 1944
Through the deep woods, the slanting sunlight
Casts motley patterns on the jade-green mosses.
No glimpse of man in this lonely mountain,
Yet faint voices drift on the air.
tr. Chang Yin-nan & Lewis C. Walmsley, 1958
On the lone mountain
I meet no one,
I hear only the echo
At an angle the sun's rays
enter the depth of the wood
And shine
upon the green moss.
tr. C.J. Chen & Michael Bullock, 1960
On the empty mountains no one can be seen,
But human voices are heard to resound.
The reflected sunlight pieces the deep forest
And falls again upon the mossy ground.
tr. James J.Y. Liu, 1962
Deep in the mountain wilderness
Where nobody ever comes
Only once in a great while
Something like the sound of a far-off voice.
The low ray of the sun
Slip through the dark forest,
And gleam again on the shadowy moss.
tr. Kenneth Rexroth, 1990
Empty hills, no on in sight,
only the sound of someone talking;
late sunlight enters the deep wood,
shining over the green moss again.
tr. Burton Watson, 1971
Empty mountain: no man is seen,
But voices of men are heard.
Sun's reflection reaches into the woods
And shines upon the green moss.
tr. Wai-lim Yip, 1972
Hills empty, no one to be seen
We hear only voices echoed -
With light coming back into the deep wood
The top of the green moss is lit again.
tr. G.W. Robinson, 1997
In empty mountains no one can be seen.
But here might echoing voices cross.
Reflecting rays
entering the deep wood
Glitter again
on the dark green moss.
tr. William McNaughton, 1974
Not the shadow on a man on the deserted hill-
And yet one hears voices speaking;
Deep in the seclusion of the woods,
Stray shafts of the sun pick out the green moss.
tr. H.C. Chang, 1977
Empty mountains:
no one to be seen.
Yet- hear-
human sounds and echoes.
Returning sunlight
enters the dark woods;
Again shining
on the green moss, above.
tr. Gary Snyder, 1978
Deer Enclosure
Empty mountain, no man is seen.
Only heard are echoes of men's talk.
Reflected light enters the deep wood
And shines again on blue-green moss.
tr. Pauline YU
鹿柴
（唐）王维
空山不见人
但闻人语响
返景入深林
复照青苔上
Deer Village
Wang Wei
In the mountain, human voices resound,
Although not a soul is found.
Striking through the dense woods,
Sunrays spotlight the verdant moss.
tr. FAN Jinghua
Not a soul is spotted in the mountain,
Human voices are heard, though.
Striking through the dense woods,
Sunrays spotlight the verdant moss.
tr. FAN Jinghua
In the mountain, human voices resound,
Although not a soul is found.
Striking through the dense woods,
Sunrays spotlight the verdant moss.
tr. FAN Jinghua
Different Renditions:
So lone seem the hills; there is no one in sight there.
But whence is the echo of voices I hear?
The rays of the sunset pierce slanting the forest,
And in their reflection green mosses appear.
tr. W.J.B. Fletcher, 1919
There seems to be no one on the empty mountain...
And yet I think I hear a voice,
Where sunlight, entering a grove,
Shines back to me from the green moss.
tr. Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu, 1929
An empty hill, and no one in sight
But I hear the echo of voices.
The slanting sun at evening penetrates the deep woods
And shines reflected on the blue lichens.
tr. Soame Jenyns, 1944
Through the deep woods, the slanting sunlight
Casts motley patterns on the jade-green mosses.
No glimpse of man in this lonely mountain,
Yet faint voices drift on the air.
tr. Chang Yin-nan & Lewis C. Walmsley, 1958
On the lone mountain
I meet no one,
I hear only the echo
At an angle the sun's rays
enter the depth of the wood
And shine
upon the green moss.
tr. C.J. Chen & Michael Bullock, 1960
On the empty mountains no one can be seen,
But human voices are heard to resound.
The reflected sunlight pieces the deep forest
And falls again upon the mossy ground.
tr. James J.Y. Liu, 1962
Deep in the mountain wilderness
Where nobody ever comes
Only once in a great while
Something like the sound of a far-off voice.
The low ray of the sun
Slip through the dark forest,
And gleam again on the shadowy moss.
tr. Kenneth Rexroth, 1990
Empty hills, no on in sight,
only the sound of someone talking;
late sunlight enters the deep wood,
shining over the green moss again.
tr. Burton Watson, 1971
Empty mountain: no man is seen,
But voices of men are heard.
Sun's reflection reaches into the woods
And shines upon the green moss.
tr. Wai-lim Yip, 1972
Hills empty, no one to be seen
We hear only voices echoed -
With light coming back into the deep wood
The top of the green moss is lit again.
tr. G.W. Robinson, 1997
In empty mountains no one can be seen.
But here might echoing voices cross.
Reflecting rays
entering the deep wood
Glitter again
on the dark green moss.
tr. William McNaughton, 1974
Not the shadow on a man on the deserted hill-
And yet one hears voices speaking;
Deep in the seclusion of the woods,
Stray shafts of the sun pick out the green moss.
tr. H.C. Chang, 1977
Empty mountains:
no one to be seen.
Yet- hear-
human sounds and echoes.
Returning sunlight
enters the dark woods;
Again shining
on the green moss, above.
tr. Gary Snyder, 1978
Deer Enclosure
Empty mountain, no man is seen.
Only heard are echoes of men's talk.
Reflected light enters the deep wood
And shines again on blue-green moss.
tr. Pauline YU
Niu Han: Enormous Rootstocks
Enormous Rootstocks
by Niu Han tr. Fan Jinghua
Behind the village
On the rolling hills
Year after year
Copses grow into new contours.
Deep into every autumn
Children wield sickles
Tree would be cracked down
And only truncated stumps remain.
The copses grow year
After year, and year after year
Their stems are chopped off.
For several decades they are still dwarfs.
Each year the corpses have only half of the time
To breathe with the lowly stubbles.
Anguished and suffocated as they may feel
But decidedly they are not to be smothered.
Their invincible will of life
Steers their growth toward the depth of the earth
Enormous nodes have grown on the underground stems
Which make their rootstalks
Harder and huger than
Any of those of the giant trees
People in the country south of the Yangtze
Would straddle them over the charcoals in the fireplace
And they would prove their worth
As the most durable fuel
Inexhaustible for a whole night and day
Because their lives contain ingrown heat and flame
Of several decades old
巨大的根块
牛汉
村庄背后
起伏的山丘上
每年，每年
长满密密的灌木丛
一到深秋时节
孩子们挥着柴刀
咔嚓，咔嚓
斫光了它们
只留下短秃秃的树桩
灌木丛
年年长，年年被斫
挣扎了几十年
没有长成一棵大树
灌木丛每年有半年的时光
只靠短秃秃的树桩呼吸
它们虽然感到憋闷和痛苦
但却不甘心被闷死
灌木丛顽强的生命
在深深的地底下
凝聚成一个个巨大的根块
比大树的根
还要巨大
还要坚硬
江南阴冷的冬夜
人们把珍贵的根块
架在火塘上面
一天一夜烧不完
根块是最耐久的燃料
因为它凝聚了几十年的热力
几十年的光焰
About the poet:
NIU Han (1923-), a.k.a. SHI Chenghan, has published poetry books Colorful Life (1951), Love and Songs (1954), Hot Springs (1984), Butterflies On the Sea (1985), Silent Cliffs (1986), Selected Poems (1998) etc.
牛汉（1923- ），原名史成汉，出版的诗集有《彩色的生活》（1951）、《爱与歌》（1954）、《温泉》（1984）、《海上蝴蝶》（1985）、《沉默的悬崖》（1986）、《牛汉诗选》（1998）。
by Niu Han tr. Fan Jinghua
Behind the village
On the rolling hills
Year after year
Copses grow into new contours.
Deep into every autumn
Children wield sickles
Tree would be cracked down
And only truncated stumps remain.
The copses grow year
After year, and year after year
Their stems are chopped off.
For several decades they are still dwarfs.
Each year the corpses have only half of the time
To breathe with the lowly stubbles.
Anguished and suffocated as they may feel
But decidedly they are not to be smothered.
Their invincible will of life
Steers their growth toward the depth of the earth
Enormous nodes have grown on the underground stems
Which make their rootstalks
Harder and huger than
Any of those of the giant trees
People in the country south of the Yangtze
Would straddle them over the charcoals in the fireplace
And they would prove their worth
As the most durable fuel
Inexhaustible for a whole night and day
Because their lives contain ingrown heat and flame
Of several decades old
巨大的根块
牛汉
村庄背后
起伏的山丘上
每年，每年
长满密密的灌木丛
一到深秋时节
孩子们挥着柴刀
咔嚓，咔嚓
斫光了它们
只留下短秃秃的树桩
灌木丛
年年长，年年被斫
挣扎了几十年
没有长成一棵大树
灌木丛每年有半年的时光
只靠短秃秃的树桩呼吸
它们虽然感到憋闷和痛苦
但却不甘心被闷死
灌木丛顽强的生命
在深深的地底下
凝聚成一个个巨大的根块
比大树的根
还要巨大
还要坚硬
江南阴冷的冬夜
人们把珍贵的根块
架在火塘上面
一天一夜烧不完
根块是最耐久的燃料
因为它凝聚了几十年的热力
几十年的光焰
About the poet:
NIU Han (1923-), a.k.a. SHI Chenghan, has published poetry books Colorful Life (1951), Love and Songs (1954), Hot Springs (1984), Butterflies On the Sea (1985), Silent Cliffs (1986), Selected Poems (1998) etc.
牛汉（1923- ），原名史成汉，出版的诗集有《彩色的生活》（1951）、《爱与歌》（1954）、《温泉》（1984）、《海上蝴蝶》（1985）、《沉默的悬崖》（1986）、《牛汉诗选》（1998）。
Wu Qingshui: My 2004
My 2004
by Wu Qingshui tr. Fan Jinghua
…mir aber ist die Ferne voll Figur
--- Rilke, Der Einsame
Except for the year, my love comes too, but no one comes to share yet.
Not able to sort out my thoughts, not able to find the one who lends an ear
For me to whisper into, I surrender my heart to the days passing irretrievably by.
The lonely steps of the passer-by are not what light can illuminate
Bound to the incomplete things and have to stagger on
This augury is Rilke’s lament; … there would be never another here being trodden…
Is this the world we are pre-settled in?
The lily on the windowsill is withering. No one can hold her hand,
And from the pliable waist ooze out crystal teardrops,
That roll down all the way from her flossy legs.
Dented leaves hold some of their moisture, and air takes away
Some of their glittering.
Thrown off the eyesight,
Over the window,
It rests in the net of the entertainers’ toot.
And a solitary traveler always arrives easily,
Just like time would never vanish.
The poet’s note (rephrased by me, original at the end of this posting)
Poetry, as the oldest way of human existence, is a sun-flower-like vegetable in the form of words breathing the sunshine. Its potential to multiply and grow is remarkable. Poetry is a two-fold discovery of both language and spirit, and of a demystification of human existence. Poets have always been foreigners from another world, who clean the language windows of the lighthouse during stormy nights and rediscover and reaffirm the vast field of meaning and meaningful sound of words.
In this poem, I have tried to make the language clear and pure as well as ambiguous and veiled. What I hope for the language is the quicksilver quality that looks transparent but essentially still and elusive. I try to achieve in this poem is the maximum opening-up and presentation of the imaginary sphere, as if by using an engraving knife to mould a shape. The artistry of a poet is neither cutting nor etching. Maybe both or between.
诗作为一门古老的人类生存方式，其语言是充满呼吸的向阳生长之物，它的繁殖和增生能力是惊人的。诗是对语言与灵魂的双重涉险与发现，是对存在的澄明去蔽。诗人，是从外乡跋涉而来，在黑暗冰冷的雨夜擦亮语言灯塔之窗的人，他重新发现了语言背后阔大场阈中被遮蔽的意义和声音的指向。
在这首诗歌的创作中，我试图让语言做到澄澈、明净，但同时也是隐晦的、朦胧的、多义的。这正如水银看似透明静止实则隐晦，变动不居。我在这首诗中期待将想象的世界得以最大限度地呈现和敞亮出来，犹如用一把雕刀给诗歌塑型。诗人之艺既非刻划又非剥啄。也许都是，也是介于其间。
Original
2004年
吴情水
充盈的形象却是我的远方
——里尔克
除此以外这一年出现了我的爱情，没有分享，没有能整理我的思想
没有找到与我秘密耳语的那一个
我向沿途的日子交出的心，没有可归回的地点。往者如许孤独
的步容也不是光所能照耀的
“捆绑于未完成的事物，而且还要继续蹒跚”
这句谶语的悲叹声来于里尔克；……再没有如此走过的这里……
就是为我们所设席的世界？
窗台的百合渐渐枯萎，没有人能握住她的手。这形体多变的腰肢
几滴闪亮的泪珠沁出来
从她闭拢、绒毛浮动的长腿上
一直下滑，被齿叶挽留住一点顺便湿润它，空气再带走一点
闪动。
向眼外荡去。
直到越出那道窗户，
鼓手的吹拉弹唱衔接住它。
而一个人上路总归是最好的抵达
而时间不会消失。
创作附言：
“诗作为一门古老的人类生存方式，其语言是充满呼吸的向阳生长之物，它的繁殖和增生能力是惊人的。诗是对语言与灵魂的双重涉险与发现，是对存在的澄明去蔽。诗人，是从外乡跋涉而来，在黑暗冰冷的雨夜擦亮语言灯盏的人，他重新发现了语言背后阔大场阈中被遮蔽的意义和声音的指向。诗人，是在板结梗硬的寒冬，撬开冰层和土壤，在不懈的挖掘中提早与语言在鲜活的春天照面和打量的挥汗者。在这个长久而可贵的语言向度和弯身劳作的姿势上，诗人才维持了诗之为诗的本体依据和可能性诉求，才持有了一个手艺人的道德良知和基本责任感。
在这首诗歌的创作中，我试图让语言做到澄澈、明净，但同时也是隐晦的、朦胧的、多义的。这正如水银看似透明静止实则隐晦，变动不居。如《2004》的语言就是力图使其精准而到位的，这犹如有一把雕刀，在刻划和剥啄间，真实的想象的世界得以最大限度地呈现和敞亮出来。”
by Wu Qingshui tr. Fan Jinghua
…mir aber ist die Ferne voll Figur
--- Rilke, Der Einsame
Except for the year, my love comes too, but no one comes to share yet.
Not able to sort out my thoughts, not able to find the one who lends an ear
For me to whisper into, I surrender my heart to the days passing irretrievably by.
The lonely steps of the passer-by are not what light can illuminate
Bound to the incomplete things and have to stagger on
This augury is Rilke’s lament; … there would be never another here being trodden…
Is this the world we are pre-settled in?
The lily on the windowsill is withering. No one can hold her hand,
And from the pliable waist ooze out crystal teardrops,
That roll down all the way from her flossy legs.
Dented leaves hold some of their moisture, and air takes away
Some of their glittering.
Thrown off the eyesight,
Over the window,
It rests in the net of the entertainers’ toot.
And a solitary traveler always arrives easily,
Just like time would never vanish.
The poet’s note (rephrased by me, original at the end of this posting)
Poetry, as the oldest way of human existence, is a sun-flower-like vegetable in the form of words breathing the sunshine. Its potential to multiply and grow is remarkable. Poetry is a two-fold discovery of both language and spirit, and of a demystification of human existence. Poets have always been foreigners from another world, who clean the language windows of the lighthouse during stormy nights and rediscover and reaffirm the vast field of meaning and meaningful sound of words.
In this poem, I have tried to make the language clear and pure as well as ambiguous and veiled. What I hope for the language is the quicksilver quality that looks transparent but essentially still and elusive. I try to achieve in this poem is the maximum opening-up and presentation of the imaginary sphere, as if by using an engraving knife to mould a shape. The artistry of a poet is neither cutting nor etching. Maybe both or between.
诗作为一门古老的人类生存方式，其语言是充满呼吸的向阳生长之物，它的繁殖和增生能力是惊人的。诗是对语言与灵魂的双重涉险与发现，是对存在的澄明去蔽。诗人，是从外乡跋涉而来，在黑暗冰冷的雨夜擦亮语言灯塔之窗的人，他重新发现了语言背后阔大场阈中被遮蔽的意义和声音的指向。
在这首诗歌的创作中，我试图让语言做到澄澈、明净，但同时也是隐晦的、朦胧的、多义的。这正如水银看似透明静止实则隐晦，变动不居。我在这首诗中期待将想象的世界得以最大限度地呈现和敞亮出来，犹如用一把雕刀给诗歌塑型。诗人之艺既非刻划又非剥啄。也许都是，也是介于其间。
Original
2004年
吴情水
充盈的形象却是我的远方
——里尔克
除此以外这一年出现了我的爱情，没有分享，没有能整理我的思想
没有找到与我秘密耳语的那一个
我向沿途的日子交出的心，没有可归回的地点。往者如许孤独
的步容也不是光所能照耀的
“捆绑于未完成的事物，而且还要继续蹒跚”
这句谶语的悲叹声来于里尔克；……再没有如此走过的这里……
就是为我们所设席的世界？
窗台的百合渐渐枯萎，没有人能握住她的手。这形体多变的腰肢
几滴闪亮的泪珠沁出来
从她闭拢、绒毛浮动的长腿上
一直下滑，被齿叶挽留住一点顺便湿润它，空气再带走一点
闪动。
向眼外荡去。
直到越出那道窗户，
鼓手的吹拉弹唱衔接住它。
而一个人上路总归是最好的抵达
而时间不会消失。
创作附言：
“诗作为一门古老的人类生存方式，其语言是充满呼吸的向阳生长之物，它的繁殖和增生能力是惊人的。诗是对语言与灵魂的双重涉险与发现，是对存在的澄明去蔽。诗人，是从外乡跋涉而来，在黑暗冰冷的雨夜擦亮语言灯盏的人，他重新发现了语言背后阔大场阈中被遮蔽的意义和声音的指向。诗人，是在板结梗硬的寒冬，撬开冰层和土壤，在不懈的挖掘中提早与语言在鲜活的春天照面和打量的挥汗者。在这个长久而可贵的语言向度和弯身劳作的姿势上，诗人才维持了诗之为诗的本体依据和可能性诉求，才持有了一个手艺人的道德良知和基本责任感。
在这首诗歌的创作中，我试图让语言做到澄澈、明净，但同时也是隐晦的、朦胧的、多义的。这正如水银看似透明静止实则隐晦，变动不居。如《2004》的语言就是力图使其精准而到位的，这犹如有一把雕刀，在刻划和剥啄间，真实的想象的世界得以最大限度地呈现和敞亮出来。”
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Fan Jinghua: Breaking Open the Spring
Breaking Open the Spring
Those trees straighten up merely for those budding leaves, and they
Point their fingers to the sky. It happens
There are clouds for men to focus on and this makes the blue beyond them
Bluer and higher. Distances are made relative too.
People then begin to believe
Imaginary love will start to bloom in March
As all creatures are crawling out of their caves.
But if I had been melt with the snow patches on the sun-facing riverbank
When the spring was breaking open,
Would the grass-shoots have been black upon worming out of the ground?
March 2008
开春
那些树是为了鼓胀的叶子苞才再次挺直，它们
岔开手指，恰好指向散居的云朵
人们有了可视的焦点，便看到那后面的蓝色
更高更蓝。所有的距离也都变得相对
接着，人们开始相信
想象的爱情将始于三月
随着所有生灵撩开洞穴的门帘
而假若在开春前我与向阳河坡上的雪一同融化了
那些草芽钻出地面时是否会是黑的
2008年3月9日
Those trees straighten up merely for those budding leaves, and they
Point their fingers to the sky. It happens
There are clouds for men to focus on and this makes the blue beyond them
Bluer and higher. Distances are made relative too.
People then begin to believe
Imaginary love will start to bloom in March
As all creatures are crawling out of their caves.
But if I had been melt with the snow patches on the sun-facing riverbank
When the spring was breaking open,
Would the grass-shoots have been black upon worming out of the ground?
March 2008
开春
那些树是为了鼓胀的叶子苞才再次挺直，它们
岔开手指，恰好指向散居的云朵
人们有了可视的焦点，便看到那后面的蓝色
更高更蓝。所有的距离也都变得相对
接着，人们开始相信
想象的爱情将始于三月
随着所有生灵撩开洞穴的门帘
而假若在开春前我与向阳河坡上的雪一同融化了
那些草芽钻出地面时是否会是黑的
2008年3月9日
Joy over Lu’s Visit When I’m Bedfast by a Lake
湖上卧病喜陆鸿渐至
李冶
昔去繁霜月，今来苦雾时。
相逢仍卧病，欲语泪先垂。
强劝陶家酒，还吟谢客诗。
偶然成一醉，此外更何之。
Joy over Lu’s Visit When I’m Bedfast by a Lake
Li Ye [Tang Dynasty]
Last time in frosty moonlight you went away,
This time in bitter fog you come to pay a visit.
Upon meeting when I am still bed-confined,
Before I could greet, my tears well up and drop.
You are persuaded into a wine favored by Helmet Tao,
Then we compose lines in the light of Landscapist Hsie.
This occasion is rare, so let’s get drunk,
What else to do when there is nowhere to go?
Word-by-word Exegesis:
湖lake 上on卧lie病sick喜happy陆鸿渐Lu Hongjian至arrive
昔past 去go 繁luxuriant 霜frost 月moon
今today 来come 苦bitter 雾fog 时time
相each other 逢meeting 仍still 卧lie 病sick
欲want 语speak 泪tears 先first 垂drop
强hard 劝persuade 陶Tao 家family 酒wine
还furthermore 吟recite/ compose 谢Xie 客guest 诗verse
偶然occasionally 成make 一one 醉drunk
此here 外except 更more 何where 之go
About the Author:
Li Ye李冶, courtesy name Ji Lan季兰, was one of the three most famous female poets in Tang Dynasty (the other two being Yu Xuanji (鱼玄机Yu Hsuan-chi) and Xue Tao (薛涛Hsüeh T'ao). The friend Lu Hongjian (Lu Yu) who came to visit her authored a book on tea Classsic of Tea (Tea Sutra). Li Ye was a very liberal beauty, but eventually she became a Taoist nun. She was called to serve at the Imperial court later in her life, but unfortunately she was put to death in 784 BC because one of her poet friends at the court was found guilty. One story about her goes like this.
Once she was reported to have a dialogue with another famous poet Liu Changqing. Liu was suffering hernia and had to use a cloth bag to hold up his scrotum to ease himself. One day, she asked about his health by quoting a line from Tao Yuanming: 山气日夕佳, which literally means “Mountain air is good morning and dusk”. However, the “mountain air” in Chinese is homophonic to 疝气 hernia. Liu responded by quoting another line by Tao: 众鸟欣有託, which literally means “All the birds are happy to have trust”. In this response, “the birds” refers in slang to the male genital, while the word “trust” is homophonic to “hold” (codpiece).
The last couplet of this five-word regular verse (four five-word couplets, with a rhyme scheme of ABAA) is usually read to be feminine, as being drunk could be usual among male poets while here the poetess appeared to find excuses for getting drunk. In the poem, Tao refers Tao Yuanming (陶渊明Tao Qian, T’ao Ch’ien 365-427 a most influential pre-Tang poet), a helmet poet, and Xie refers to Xie Lingyun (谢灵运Hsieh Lingyün 385-433), a poet about landscape.
李冶
昔去繁霜月，今来苦雾时。
相逢仍卧病，欲语泪先垂。
强劝陶家酒，还吟谢客诗。
偶然成一醉，此外更何之。
Joy over Lu’s Visit When I’m Bedfast by a Lake
Li Ye [Tang Dynasty]
Last time in frosty moonlight you went away,
This time in bitter fog you come to pay a visit.
Upon meeting when I am still bed-confined,
Before I could greet, my tears well up and drop.
You are persuaded into a wine favored by Helmet Tao,
Then we compose lines in the light of Landscapist Hsie.
This occasion is rare, so let’s get drunk,
What else to do when there is nowhere to go?
Word-by-word Exegesis:
湖lake 上on卧lie病sick喜happy陆鸿渐Lu Hongjian至arrive
昔past 去go 繁luxuriant 霜frost 月moon
今today 来come 苦bitter 雾fog 时time
相each other 逢meeting 仍still 卧lie 病sick
欲want 语speak 泪tears 先first 垂drop
强hard 劝persuade 陶Tao 家family 酒wine
还furthermore 吟recite/ compose 谢Xie 客guest 诗verse
偶然occasionally 成make 一one 醉drunk
此here 外except 更more 何where 之go
About the Author:
Li Ye李冶, courtesy name Ji Lan季兰, was one of the three most famous female poets in Tang Dynasty (the other two being Yu Xuanji (鱼玄机Yu Hsuan-chi) and Xue Tao (薛涛Hsüeh T'ao). The friend Lu Hongjian (Lu Yu) who came to visit her authored a book on tea Classsic of Tea (Tea Sutra). Li Ye was a very liberal beauty, but eventually she became a Taoist nun. She was called to serve at the Imperial court later in her life, but unfortunately she was put to death in 784 BC because one of her poet friends at the court was found guilty. One story about her goes like this.
Once she was reported to have a dialogue with another famous poet Liu Changqing. Liu was suffering hernia and had to use a cloth bag to hold up his scrotum to ease himself. One day, she asked about his health by quoting a line from Tao Yuanming: 山气日夕佳, which literally means “Mountain air is good morning and dusk”. However, the “mountain air” in Chinese is homophonic to 疝气 hernia. Liu responded by quoting another line by Tao: 众鸟欣有託, which literally means “All the birds are happy to have trust”. In this response, “the birds” refers in slang to the male genital, while the word “trust” is homophonic to “hold” (codpiece).
The last couplet of this five-word regular verse (four five-word couplets, with a rhyme scheme of ABAA) is usually read to be feminine, as being drunk could be usual among male poets while here the poetess appeared to find excuses for getting drunk. In the poem, Tao refers Tao Yuanming (陶渊明Tao Qian, T’ao Ch’ien 365-427 a most influential pre-Tang poet), a helmet poet, and Xie refers to Xie Lingyun (谢灵运Hsieh Lingyün 385-433), a poet about landscape.
A Piece of Social News
A Piece of Social News
Note: The following words are all taken from an item of social news entitled “On the Great Goose Pagoda Plaza in Xi’an Prostitutes of 40 to 50 Years Old Solicit Openly.” Except for versifying the text, the author alters almost nothing. My translation tries to be as faithful to the original words as possible, to the point that some of them do not read very idiomatic in English.
Xi’an. Aug. 8, 2007. Around 4pm., our correspondent
Came to The Great Goose Pagoda Plaza, where there are
Many people hanging around in the northern part.
It was burning hot, and people sat on chairs in the park
In the arbors, among whom there are several middle-aged women
Who were looking around all the time. Whenever there appeared
Single men, they would sneaked behind them to where
there were fewer people. The women would accost the men.
Our correspondent sneaked near the chair and sat
On a nearby stone for no more than five minutes
When a woman around 40 came by and patted on his shoulder
Saying “Hi, Young brother, alone?” and picked up a chat.
After an initial small talk, she elbowed our journalist
With such suggestive words: In such a hot day, what’s the point
In dry gossip? Don’t you want to play with an elder sister like me
Who can surely make you happy?” Our correspondent pretended
Innocence by asking “To play what?” and the woman whispered
To his ear in a mystical air: “What can a man and a woman play?
I see you are young and I only ask for 30 yuan. How about that?”
After a pretended bargain, our correspondent followed the woman
To a peasant’s house at Kuanyin Village. The house is small and dim
as a shed, with a double bed, an old TV set and an electric fan.
Upon entering, the woman started undressing, and our journalist
Saw on the bed stains of semen. He immediately stepped out, saying
He was going to pee and messaging his colleague to call back.
Therefore, our correspondent escaped upon his wife’s phone call.
A few days later, our correspondent came to the Greater Pagoda
And did an investigation there. No sooner did he take his feet
When getting off a bus than he was surrounded by a circle of women
Who asked in low voices: "Hi, Young man, play or not? 30 yuan only."
They were all around 30 to 40 of age, standing by the bus stops.
Whenever a lone man gets off or passes by, they approached.
Our correspondent pretended to be interested and picked up
A chat with a woman, and they sat on a step and talked.
This woman told him that she was from a Li family, coming
To Xi’an from the southern part of the province, "to make money."
They all rented small houses in the ghettos in the downtown,
And she has also a kid at her care. Puzzled, our journalist asked:
"With a kid, how can you do business with a guest?" She smiled:
"That’s easy! When a guest comes, the kid is asked to go away."
"Are you not afraid that your business will make your kid learn the bad?"
"What else to do? My family is poor, and his dad is out to do odd jobs;
The kid is too young, and no one would take care of him at home."
"How much could you make in a month, with each business of 30 yuan?"
"For a woman of my age which is a little old, 30 yuan is quite reasonable;
The monthly net income may be a little over 2000, rent and food paid.
I am more than satisfied, as this sum is much bigger than I can get
Through laboring at home. You know, I do all this for our kid."
After a few days’ observation around the Greater Pagoda area,
Our correspondent found the prostitutes usually target at men
Who are in the middle age or over and appear to be alone.
According to investigations, the reason for them to seek business there is
that the men found there are usually those spending their spare time.
About this phenomenon, many citizens frequenting there feel disgusted;
They think that the Greater Pagoda Plaza is a "Cultural Spectacle"
And "Image" of the Province, and those who dare to procure sexual business
So openly on the most majestic fountain and waterscape plaza in Asia
Are really a pollution to the harmonic graceful environment of our society.
A Mister Liu, who is a retired cadre, lives near the Xian Film Studio Road.
He said that he liked going there, not only often doing morning exercise there,
But also taking his grandson with him when he took a walk after dinner.
"Never did I think that once a woman approached me and asked 'do you want
To play, at only 30 yuan, and I will make you really comfortable…'
And to think that my grandson is at my side! And he kept asking later
What the auntie wanted me to play. Can you tell me what I should answer?"
Mister Liu was really angry: "The government has put in a lot for the renovation
Of the Greater Pagoda Plaza and made it especially attractive.
It has become the Business Card of Xi’an Image. But see how shameless
These people are, so brazenly open! The relevant departments of government
Should make great efforts to administer and control, to drive them away
And wipe them out. Otherwise, this city will be really blemished."
P.S. by me: This piece of "news" is more than a fly in my dish. It is not the prostitution that makes me sick, as poverty-stricken farmers had nothing left to sell. What really rapes my mind is the way the news is written. Damned are the correspondents who are too shit-minded not to investigate the reasons behind the prostitution.
一条社会新闻
按：以下文字来自一篇题为《西安大雁塔广场四五十岁卖淫女公然拉客（组图）》的新闻报道；除了分行分节方式之外，几乎没有改动。
8月8日下午4时左右，本报记者
来到大雁塔北广场西侧的休闲区，
天气炎热，很多人来此纳凉和休息。
凉亭附近的长椅上，几位中年妇女
不停地环顾四周，每当有单身男性路过，
她们便悄悄跟着男士走到人少的地方，
然后不失时机地主动上前搭话。
记者凑近那长椅，在附近的石头上坐下，
不到5分钟，一名40来岁的女人走来，
轻轻拍一下记者的肩膀：“小伙子，你一个人？”
然后便靠着记者聊了起来。几句闲话之后，
她用肩膀碰了一下记者，暧昧地说道：
“这么热，在这儿聊天有啥意思？想不想
跟姐去姐姐那里玩玩？包你开心。”
记者假装不解地问：“玩什么呢？”
她神秘地凑近记者的耳朵，轻声地说：
“男人和女人能玩什么？看你年轻，
姐姐只收你30块钱，你看怎么样？”
记者假装了一番讨价还价之后，跟着那妇女
来到位于观音村内的一处民房。
房子很小，很阴暗，里面摆放着一张双人床，
一台破旧的电视机和一台电风扇。
一进屋子，那个女人就开始脱衣服，记者
看到那张床上精液斑斑，连忙以上厕所为由
退出了房子，发短信给候在外面的同事，
于是记者接到了妻子的电话，得以脱身。
记者日后再次来到大雁塔，对周围进行探访。
刚在公交站旁下车，他就被几名妇女拦住；
她们低声询问：“小伙子，玩不玩？三十块而已！”
她们都在三、四十岁左右，都在公交站牌附近停留，
每看到有单身男子下车或经过，她们都这样上前询问。
记者装作很感兴趣的样子，与其中的一个妇女
坐在车站旁边的台阶上聊了起来。这位妇女
告诉记者，她姓李，从陕南来西安这边“赚钱”。
她们都在附近的城中村租住房子，她还带着孩子。
记者奇怪地问道：“有孩子同住，你带客人过去怎么办？”
她笑着回答：“客人来的时候，叫娃出去玩就行了！”
“你带着孩子出来赚这钱，不怕孩子学坏？”
“那有什么办法？家里穷啊，他爸出去打工，
孩子太小，家里没人照看，只能我带他出来。”
“像你们这样，每次30元，一个月能赚多少？”
“像我这年龄已经大了，所以只能收人家30元，
每个月交了房租，吃了饭，最后还能落下2000多块；
我很满足，这比我在老家闲着高强。都是为了娃啊。”
经过在大雁塔附近观察几天，记者发现，
拉客妇女将目标锁定在一些上了年纪的单身男性。
据调查，她们之所以在这里拉客，是因为
来这儿的人以一些没有事情的休闲人为主。
对于这种现象，很多常来此地休闲的市民十分厌恶；
他们认为，大雁塔广场是陕西省的“文化景点”
和“形象景点”，这些人竟然大白天
也敢在这个亚洲最大的喷泉广场和水景广场上
公然拉客，实在是污染了和谐优美的社会环境。
刘先生是一名退休干部，就在西影路附近居住。
他说他很喜欢那儿，不仅常去那儿晨练，
而且常在晚饭后带着小孙子去那里消食散步。
“没想到，有一次，那些妇女竟然对我说：
玩不玩，30块，保证让你舒服……；
而我的小孙子就在我身边，后来他还一直问我
那些阿姨让我玩什么。你说叫我该如何回答？”
他气愤地说：现在政府花钱把大雁塔广场
修得非常迷人，已经成了西安的‘城市名片’，
而这些人竟然不知廉耻，如此明目张胆；
相关的职能部门应该下大力度整治一下，
将她们赶走，不然真的会给这座城市抹黑。”
2007年8月14日
Note: The following words are all taken from an item of social news entitled “On the Great Goose Pagoda Plaza in Xi’an Prostitutes of 40 to 50 Years Old Solicit Openly.” Except for versifying the text, the author alters almost nothing. My translation tries to be as faithful to the original words as possible, to the point that some of them do not read very idiomatic in English.
Xi’an. Aug. 8, 2007. Around 4pm., our correspondent
Came to The Great Goose Pagoda Plaza, where there are
Many people hanging around in the northern part.
It was burning hot, and people sat on chairs in the park
In the arbors, among whom there are several middle-aged women
Who were looking around all the time. Whenever there appeared
Single men, they would sneaked behind them to where
there were fewer people. The women would accost the men.
Our correspondent sneaked near the chair and sat
On a nearby stone for no more than five minutes
When a woman around 40 came by and patted on his shoulder
Saying “Hi, Young brother, alone?” and picked up a chat.
After an initial small talk, she elbowed our journalist
With such suggestive words: In such a hot day, what’s the point
In dry gossip? Don’t you want to play with an elder sister like me
Who can surely make you happy?” Our correspondent pretended
Innocence by asking “To play what?” and the woman whispered
To his ear in a mystical air: “What can a man and a woman play?
I see you are young and I only ask for 30 yuan. How about that?”
After a pretended bargain, our correspondent followed the woman
To a peasant’s house at Kuanyin Village. The house is small and dim
as a shed, with a double bed, an old TV set and an electric fan.
Upon entering, the woman started undressing, and our journalist
Saw on the bed stains of semen. He immediately stepped out, saying
He was going to pee and messaging his colleague to call back.
Therefore, our correspondent escaped upon his wife’s phone call.
A few days later, our correspondent came to the Greater Pagoda
And did an investigation there. No sooner did he take his feet
When getting off a bus than he was surrounded by a circle of women
Who asked in low voices: "Hi, Young man, play or not? 30 yuan only."
They were all around 30 to 40 of age, standing by the bus stops.
Whenever a lone man gets off or passes by, they approached.
Our correspondent pretended to be interested and picked up
A chat with a woman, and they sat on a step and talked.
This woman told him that she was from a Li family, coming
To Xi’an from the southern part of the province, "to make money."
They all rented small houses in the ghettos in the downtown,
And she has also a kid at her care. Puzzled, our journalist asked:
"With a kid, how can you do business with a guest?" She smiled:
"That’s easy! When a guest comes, the kid is asked to go away."
"Are you not afraid that your business will make your kid learn the bad?"
"What else to do? My family is poor, and his dad is out to do odd jobs;
The kid is too young, and no one would take care of him at home."
"How much could you make in a month, with each business of 30 yuan?"
"For a woman of my age which is a little old, 30 yuan is quite reasonable;
The monthly net income may be a little over 2000, rent and food paid.
I am more than satisfied, as this sum is much bigger than I can get
Through laboring at home. You know, I do all this for our kid."
After a few days’ observation around the Greater Pagoda area,
Our correspondent found the prostitutes usually target at men
Who are in the middle age or over and appear to be alone.
According to investigations, the reason for them to seek business there is
that the men found there are usually those spending their spare time.
About this phenomenon, many citizens frequenting there feel disgusted;
They think that the Greater Pagoda Plaza is a "Cultural Spectacle"
And "Image" of the Province, and those who dare to procure sexual business
So openly on the most majestic fountain and waterscape plaza in Asia
Are really a pollution to the harmonic graceful environment of our society.
A Mister Liu, who is a retired cadre, lives near the Xian Film Studio Road.
He said that he liked going there, not only often doing morning exercise there,
But also taking his grandson with him when he took a walk after dinner.
"Never did I think that once a woman approached me and asked 'do you want
To play, at only 30 yuan, and I will make you really comfortable…'
And to think that my grandson is at my side! And he kept asking later
What the auntie wanted me to play. Can you tell me what I should answer?"
Mister Liu was really angry: "The government has put in a lot for the renovation
Of the Greater Pagoda Plaza and made it especially attractive.
It has become the Business Card of Xi’an Image. But see how shameless
These people are, so brazenly open! The relevant departments of government
Should make great efforts to administer and control, to drive them away
And wipe them out. Otherwise, this city will be really blemished."
P.S. by me: This piece of "news" is more than a fly in my dish. It is not the prostitution that makes me sick, as poverty-stricken farmers had nothing left to sell. What really rapes my mind is the way the news is written. Damned are the correspondents who are too shit-minded not to investigate the reasons behind the prostitution.
一条社会新闻
按：以下文字来自一篇题为《西安大雁塔广场四五十岁卖淫女公然拉客（组图）》的新闻报道；除了分行分节方式之外，几乎没有改动。
8月8日下午4时左右，本报记者
来到大雁塔北广场西侧的休闲区，
天气炎热，很多人来此纳凉和休息。
凉亭附近的长椅上，几位中年妇女
不停地环顾四周，每当有单身男性路过，
她们便悄悄跟着男士走到人少的地方，
然后不失时机地主动上前搭话。
记者凑近那长椅，在附近的石头上坐下，
不到5分钟，一名40来岁的女人走来，
轻轻拍一下记者的肩膀：“小伙子，你一个人？”
然后便靠着记者聊了起来。几句闲话之后，
她用肩膀碰了一下记者，暧昧地说道：
“这么热，在这儿聊天有啥意思？想不想
跟姐去姐姐那里玩玩？包你开心。”
记者假装不解地问：“玩什么呢？”
她神秘地凑近记者的耳朵，轻声地说：
“男人和女人能玩什么？看你年轻，
姐姐只收你30块钱，你看怎么样？”
记者假装了一番讨价还价之后，跟着那妇女
来到位于观音村内的一处民房。
房子很小，很阴暗，里面摆放着一张双人床，
一台破旧的电视机和一台电风扇。
一进屋子，那个女人就开始脱衣服，记者
看到那张床上精液斑斑，连忙以上厕所为由
退出了房子，发短信给候在外面的同事，
于是记者接到了妻子的电话，得以脱身。
记者日后再次来到大雁塔，对周围进行探访。
刚在公交站旁下车，他就被几名妇女拦住；
她们低声询问：“小伙子，玩不玩？三十块而已！”
她们都在三、四十岁左右，都在公交站牌附近停留，
每看到有单身男子下车或经过，她们都这样上前询问。
记者装作很感兴趣的样子，与其中的一个妇女
坐在车站旁边的台阶上聊了起来。这位妇女
告诉记者，她姓李，从陕南来西安这边“赚钱”。
她们都在附近的城中村租住房子，她还带着孩子。
记者奇怪地问道：“有孩子同住，你带客人过去怎么办？”
她笑着回答：“客人来的时候，叫娃出去玩就行了！”
“你带着孩子出来赚这钱，不怕孩子学坏？”
“那有什么办法？家里穷啊，他爸出去打工，
孩子太小，家里没人照看，只能我带他出来。”
“像你们这样，每次30元，一个月能赚多少？”
“像我这年龄已经大了，所以只能收人家30元，
每个月交了房租，吃了饭，最后还能落下2000多块；
我很满足，这比我在老家闲着高强。都是为了娃啊。”
经过在大雁塔附近观察几天，记者发现，
拉客妇女将目标锁定在一些上了年纪的单身男性。
据调查，她们之所以在这里拉客，是因为
来这儿的人以一些没有事情的休闲人为主。
对于这种现象，很多常来此地休闲的市民十分厌恶；
他们认为，大雁塔广场是陕西省的“文化景点”
和“形象景点”，这些人竟然大白天
也敢在这个亚洲最大的喷泉广场和水景广场上
公然拉客，实在是污染了和谐优美的社会环境。
刘先生是一名退休干部，就在西影路附近居住。
他说他很喜欢那儿，不仅常去那儿晨练，
而且常在晚饭后带着小孙子去那里消食散步。
“没想到，有一次，那些妇女竟然对我说：
玩不玩，30块，保证让你舒服……；
而我的小孙子就在我身边，后来他还一直问我
那些阿姨让我玩什么。你说叫我该如何回答？”
他气愤地说：现在政府花钱把大雁塔广场
修得非常迷人，已经成了西安的‘城市名片’，
而这些人竟然不知廉耻，如此明目张胆；
相关的职能部门应该下大力度整治一下，
将她们赶走，不然真的会给这座城市抹黑。”
2007年8月14日
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Nalan Xingde: An Elegy
青衫湿：悼亡
纳兰性德
近来无限伤心事，谁与话长更。从教分付，绿窗红泪，早雁初莺。
当时领略，自尽断送，总负多情。忽疑君到，漆灯风飐，痴数春星
An Elegy (to the Tune of “Wet is my blue robe”)
Nalan Xingde (1655-85)
Of late, too many heart-hurts befall, and yet
Who could be there for a chat during long nights.
I am with your concerned final words,
Green light is reflected on the windows and candle tears are red;
Outside, orioles and wild geese are testing their eager songs.
The taste of love I began to know and enjoy
Was cut short, and no love
Can afford for a love that long that much.
In a trance, I seem to see your unannounced apparition,
In the shaking light of burning lacquer before your coffin.
All I can do is look up to count the spring stars, obsessed.
Word-by-word Exegesis
悼mourning亡deceased
青blue衫clothing/ tunic/ robe湿wet
近来lately 无no限limit 伤hurt心heart 事matter/things
谁who 与with/together 话talk 长long 更measure of time
(one 更 is two hours during night, the last 更 being the fifth before daybreak)
从since/according to 教let/ instruct 分付concerned instructions (variants from the normal 吩咐)
绿green 窗window 红red 泪tears
早early 雁wild goose 初young 莺oriole
当at时(that) time 领understand 略taste/ know
自self 尽finish 断break 送send
总always 负fail 多much 情emotion
忽suddenly 疑suspect 君you 到come
漆lacquer 灯lamp 风wind 飐shake/ shiver
痴obsessed 数count 春spring 星stars
纳兰性德
近来无限伤心事，谁与话长更。从教分付，绿窗红泪，早雁初莺。
当时领略，自尽断送，总负多情。忽疑君到，漆灯风飐，痴数春星
An Elegy (to the Tune of “Wet is my blue robe”)
Nalan Xingde (1655-85)
Of late, too many heart-hurts befall, and yet
Who could be there for a chat during long nights.
I am with your concerned final words,
Green light is reflected on the windows and candle tears are red;
Outside, orioles and wild geese are testing their eager songs.
The taste of love I began to know and enjoy
Was cut short, and no love
Can afford for a love that long that much.
In a trance, I seem to see your unannounced apparition,
In the shaking light of burning lacquer before your coffin.
All I can do is look up to count the spring stars, obsessed.
Word-by-word Exegesis
悼mourning亡deceased
青blue衫clothing/ tunic/ robe湿wet
近来lately 无no限limit 伤hurt心heart 事matter/things
谁who 与with/together 话talk 长long 更measure of time
(one 更 is two hours during night, the last 更 being the fifth before daybreak)
从since/according to 教let/ instruct 分付concerned instructions (variants from the normal 吩咐)
绿green 窗window 红red 泪tears
早early 雁wild goose 初young 莺oriole
当at时(that) time 领understand 略taste/ know
自self 尽finish 断break 送send
总always 负fail 多much 情emotion
忽suddenly 疑suspect 君you 到come
漆lacquer 灯lamp 风wind 飐shake/ shiver
痴obsessed 数count 春spring 星stars
纳兰性德 nalanxingde 1655-1685
About the author:
Nalan Xingde, courtesy name Rongruo, was born on January 19, 1655 into a Manchu official family, and he at 20 married a girl of 18 from Lu family who unfortunately died three years after and left him in deep grief ever since. Nalan himself died, half of his weak health from childhood and half of grief, in 1685 at the age of 31. His collection of Ci-poems (lyrics) entitled Drinking Water became an everlasting classic. While he was hailed as the No.1 lyricist in Qing Dynasty, his poems were mostly about his private sentiments and grievances. This is an elegy for the poet’s wife, perhaps written shortly after her death when her coffin was still in a monastery, as there were still lacquer-burning lamps (mourning lamps by the coffin to be interred).
Fan Jinghua: Vignette
Vignette
My road and I walk together, each on their own way.
我和路一道，各走各的路。
No stumble and fall are significant, except two:
once when you try to stand up to walk,
once when you are never able to stand up again.
所有的失足都很渺小，所有的摔倒都不足道，除了两次：
人生第一次试图站起来行走的时候，
最后一次再也没爬起来的时候。
I met the lilies when they were in full bloom and then I left them in bloom forever.
I met you when I was in deep love, and you are forever my love after my going away.
我遇到百合的时候它们开得正艳，我留下它们在那儿一直盛开。
我遇见你的时候，爱你很深；我离去之后，你是我永远的爱。
To staunch, my mother used to apply ashes to my cut.
Now, I burn my poems to stop my heart’s wound.
小时候妈妈用草灰给我的割伤止血，
如今我焚烧诗篇，给我的心伤止血。
My road and I walk together, each on their own way.
我和路一道，各走各的路。
No stumble and fall are significant, except two:
once when you try to stand up to walk,
once when you are never able to stand up again.
所有的失足都很渺小，所有的摔倒都不足道，除了两次：
人生第一次试图站起来行走的时候，
最后一次再也没爬起来的时候。
I met the lilies when they were in full bloom and then I left them in bloom forever.
I met you when I was in deep love, and you are forever my love after my going away.
我遇到百合的时候它们开得正艳，我留下它们在那儿一直盛开。
我遇见你的时候，爱你很深；我离去之后，你是我永远的爱。
To staunch, my mother used to apply ashes to my cut.
Now, I burn my poems to stop my heart’s wound.
小时候妈妈用草灰给我的割伤止血，
如今我焚烧诗篇，给我的心伤止血。
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Free-Verse Haiku by Taneda Santoka
12 Free-Verse Haiku by Taneda Santoka
种田山头火俳句12首
I copy some free-verse haiku from Taneda Santoka (1882-1940). The English version is done by Burton Watson in the book For All My Walking (Columbia UP, 2003)The meaning of this Japanese begging monk is actually “the fire on the peak of a hill (santoka)” and the surname meaning “sowing the field (taneda).” The so called free-verse haiku means that the haiku does not have to be of the 5-7-5 syllables with a season word.
随意从这个丐僧（1882-1940）的《人生遍路》中自由转译出俳句12首并发一些无聊之慨。种田山头火的俳句不是传统的格式，而是一种所谓的自由俳句，不遵照5-7-5的音节，也不必有季语（表示季节的词）。
1）天无云/ 透过一杯清酒/ 颜色在深处！（最后直译：那颜色多么深！）
cloudless sky/ peer through a glass of hard liquor/that deep color!
我曰：因为有酒，无色之色在深处！如心底有爱，恨亦无痕，很深。
My Comments: Because of the wine, the colorless color lies in the depth! If you have love in the depth of your heart, hatred and love will have no traits, lying in the deep.
2）海上来风越堤岸/芦苇梢头蝴蝶飞/ 从未停歇
（直译：风从海上来，蝴蝶在堤岸芦苇中/ 从未停歇）
wind from the sea/ butterflies in embankment weeds/ never resting
我曰：风、芦苇、蝴蝶，一浪高过一浪；类比：世风，人心，每日事。
My comments: The triad of wind, weeds and butterflies can be analogous to that of vague, hearts and everyday deeds.
3）夫妻斗嘴间/ 入夜/ 蜘蛛吊下来
husband and wife quarreling/ night/ spiders dangle down
我曰：然后，扑哧一声！蜘蛛突然纵身弹回了。
My comments: Then comes a tehee! The spider bounces back.
4）那么静谧的街道/ 一个坑/ 挖在中间
so still the street/ big hole/ dug in it
我曰：那时，街灯昏黄，皮鞋都钉着铁后跟，嘚嘚如十九世纪的马蹄，如果你愿意，还可以想象一个长裙撑着油纸伞。
My Comments: Once, the streetlamps cast down yellowish light. Those leather shoes had added iron heels, walking to make clattering sounds. And then you may even imagine a girl holding a purple umbrella walking the alley…
5）米的白/ 腌梅的红/ 两色的宝（直译：这些珍宝）
whiteness of the rice/ red of pickled plum/ these treasures!
我曰：很怀念从雪地里挖出来的矮青菜那又甜又苦的味道啊！那时的米饭有一种淡淡的绿。
My Comments: Do you miss the bittersweet of the green vegetable newly plucked out of the snow-covered garden?
6）下雪时节/ 踏上归途/ 修书一封寄妻子
come home/ in falling snow/ write my wife a letter
我曰：在这个reservation预订与real time实时的电子时代，我的一言一行都在她遥远的眼皮下发生；因为难以把握的不确定性而积累起来的牵挂，早已不存在了，惟有不信任在积累。
MY Comments: In the age of “reservation” and “real time,” all my future deeds are already under her eyes. The concerned care and love accumulated because of uncertainty and indetermination have long been killed. What can now be accumulated is suspicion.
7）愈行愈深/ 愈行愈深/ 青山如黛
the deeper I go/ the deeper I go/ green mountains
我曰：走进颜色深处，走进色的深处，走进去有两个结果：活到深处或死在里面。
My Comments: Enter the depth of colors, enter the depth of the true color of the woman. Two results: live to the depth of life or die inside in the deep.
8）潮气浸入表皮/ 此处惟有石头/ 指路
wet to the skin/ the stone here/ pointing out the path
我曰：头盖骨也是一块白石，摆在最后那块石头那边，等待下一个。
My Comments: The skull is also a white rock, placed at the end of the line, waiting for the next….
9）头顶烈日/ 一路行/ 一路乞讨
blazing sky above me/ walking/ begging
我曰：慈悲为怀的人与尊重抛弃人世的人，都是上帝。我们都向他乞讨。
My Comments: Blessed are those with a heart of mirth and those with respect for those who abandon the society. They are god. We are all begging at him.
10）胡枝子一片！/ 蒲草一片！/ 我都走过了
bush clover!/ pampas grass!/ I’m coming through
我曰：花也好，草也好，你不走，它们也不会不凋不枯。倒是你走过时，它们正繁茂着呢。
My Comments: Whether it be flowers or grasses, even if you do not walk by, they will wither and dry. The point is, when we are passing by, they are in bloom.
11）清水浸脚/ 清水/ 最醇
wobbly on my feet/ the good taste/ of water
我曰：相信这是脚在品尝。有时真的不应该让嘴占有了品尝的特权、眼睛占有了观看的特权；犹如不应该让言语占有了交流的特权一样。独占就会懈怠与腐败，五官亦然。
My Comments: I believe it is the feet that are tasting the water. Sometimes, we should not let the mouth monopolize the function of tasting, nor the eyes the function of seeing.
12）不看/ 月亮也西沉/ 我独自一人（直译刚好相反：看着月亮西沉/ 我独自一人）
Watching the moon/ go down/ me alone
我曰：其实不用看，犹如此刻，外面是否有星有月，有关系么？
My Comments: My Chinese version reads: even if I am not watching the moon going down, I am still alone. Right now, does it matter whether there are stars or moon outside the window?
种田山头火俳句12首
I copy some free-verse haiku from Taneda Santoka (1882-1940). The English version is done by Burton Watson in the book For All My Walking (Columbia UP, 2003)The meaning of this Japanese begging monk is actually “the fire on the peak of a hill (santoka)” and the surname meaning “sowing the field (taneda).” The so called free-verse haiku means that the haiku does not have to be of the 5-7-5 syllables with a season word.
随意从这个丐僧（1882-1940）的《人生遍路》中自由转译出俳句12首并发一些无聊之慨。种田山头火的俳句不是传统的格式，而是一种所谓的自由俳句，不遵照5-7-5的音节，也不必有季语（表示季节的词）。
1）天无云/ 透过一杯清酒/ 颜色在深处！（最后直译：那颜色多么深！）
cloudless sky/ peer through a glass of hard liquor/that deep color!
我曰：因为有酒，无色之色在深处！如心底有爱，恨亦无痕，很深。
My Comments: Because of the wine, the colorless color lies in the depth! If you have love in the depth of your heart, hatred and love will have no traits, lying in the deep.
2）海上来风越堤岸/芦苇梢头蝴蝶飞/ 从未停歇
（直译：风从海上来，蝴蝶在堤岸芦苇中/ 从未停歇）
wind from the sea/ butterflies in embankment weeds/ never resting
我曰：风、芦苇、蝴蝶，一浪高过一浪；类比：世风，人心，每日事。
My comments: The triad of wind, weeds and butterflies can be analogous to that of vague, hearts and everyday deeds.
3）夫妻斗嘴间/ 入夜/ 蜘蛛吊下来
husband and wife quarreling/ night/ spiders dangle down
我曰：然后，扑哧一声！蜘蛛突然纵身弹回了。
My comments: Then comes a tehee! The spider bounces back.
4）那么静谧的街道/ 一个坑/ 挖在中间
so still the street/ big hole/ dug in it
我曰：那时，街灯昏黄，皮鞋都钉着铁后跟，嘚嘚如十九世纪的马蹄，如果你愿意，还可以想象一个长裙撑着油纸伞。
My Comments: Once, the streetlamps cast down yellowish light. Those leather shoes had added iron heels, walking to make clattering sounds. And then you may even imagine a girl holding a purple umbrella walking the alley…
5）米的白/ 腌梅的红/ 两色的宝（直译：这些珍宝）
whiteness of the rice/ red of pickled plum/ these treasures!
我曰：很怀念从雪地里挖出来的矮青菜那又甜又苦的味道啊！那时的米饭有一种淡淡的绿。
My Comments: Do you miss the bittersweet of the green vegetable newly plucked out of the snow-covered garden?
6）下雪时节/ 踏上归途/ 修书一封寄妻子
come home/ in falling snow/ write my wife a letter
我曰：在这个reservation预订与real time实时的电子时代，我的一言一行都在她遥远的眼皮下发生；因为难以把握的不确定性而积累起来的牵挂，早已不存在了，惟有不信任在积累。
MY Comments: In the age of “reservation” and “real time,” all my future deeds are already under her eyes. The concerned care and love accumulated because of uncertainty and indetermination have long been killed. What can now be accumulated is suspicion.
7）愈行愈深/ 愈行愈深/ 青山如黛
the deeper I go/ the deeper I go/ green mountains
我曰：走进颜色深处，走进色的深处，走进去有两个结果：活到深处或死在里面。
My Comments: Enter the depth of colors, enter the depth of the true color of the woman. Two results: live to the depth of life or die inside in the deep.
8）潮气浸入表皮/ 此处惟有石头/ 指路
wet to the skin/ the stone here/ pointing out the path
我曰：头盖骨也是一块白石，摆在最后那块石头那边，等待下一个。
My Comments: The skull is also a white rock, placed at the end of the line, waiting for the next….
9）头顶烈日/ 一路行/ 一路乞讨
blazing sky above me/ walking/ begging
我曰：慈悲为怀的人与尊重抛弃人世的人，都是上帝。我们都向他乞讨。
My Comments: Blessed are those with a heart of mirth and those with respect for those who abandon the society. They are god. We are all begging at him.
10）胡枝子一片！/ 蒲草一片！/ 我都走过了
bush clover!/ pampas grass!/ I’m coming through
我曰：花也好，草也好，你不走，它们也不会不凋不枯。倒是你走过时，它们正繁茂着呢。
My Comments: Whether it be flowers or grasses, even if you do not walk by, they will wither and dry. The point is, when we are passing by, they are in bloom.
11）清水浸脚/ 清水/ 最醇
wobbly on my feet/ the good taste/ of water
我曰：相信这是脚在品尝。有时真的不应该让嘴占有了品尝的特权、眼睛占有了观看的特权；犹如不应该让言语占有了交流的特权一样。独占就会懈怠与腐败，五官亦然。
My Comments: I believe it is the feet that are tasting the water. Sometimes, we should not let the mouth monopolize the function of tasting, nor the eyes the function of seeing.
12）不看/ 月亮也西沉/ 我独自一人（直译刚好相反：看着月亮西沉/ 我独自一人）
Watching the moon/ go down/ me alone
我曰：其实不用看，犹如此刻，外面是否有星有月，有关系么？
My Comments: My Chinese version reads: even if I am not watching the moon going down, I am still alone. Right now, does it matter whether there are stars or moon outside the window?
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Fan Jinghua: In That Old House We Have Been in Love with Love
In That Old House We Have Been in Love with Love
The planks have been scrubbed into white flesh, their veins bare,
We carpet the floor with quilt and we pillow on bended arms.
Rolling over, we become two praying mantises (and sexual cannibalism does enter
Our pillow talk), but we need not worry about falling down even if it is a battlefield.
The narrow window casts down dim light, its frame stark like our bodies;
Your murmurs must be about something, as if on the ceiling floats
A pair of eye-like goldfish, while my eyes fix on yours,
Something from my ganglion deeply softened, very masculine.
Outside, another time lies supine and spreads, into which we may enter to get lost.
There is a lawn we can stroll on, with a few fruit trees that stand to sieve the sun;
On a big oak, Jew’s ears cluster, brown and visually hard, like scallops of fertility
On which the genii of Venus are being born among nameless midges.
It is a post-burgeoning season, and fruits are growing fuller, yet still velvety.
Afterwards, the maturing season will be behind us.
Without our witness, what will befall the time?
Without our presence, what will befall the house?
Daylight is fading away, the colors of sky are getting crowded,
And both the east and the west are falling prone on the earth,
With only occasional bird cries cutting through the vacancy.
We are with the ongoing, the succession of night and day lying beyond our minds.
In that house, I love you, more than what has been imagined and believed,
More than what can be seen and touched,
More like love than love in words, spoken or printed….
Yet neither of us can tell what love is except that love is to be in there, and
The house must be still there, in another time, where we have been, in love with love.
Feb. -- Mar., 2008
Belle Isle, Northern Ireland
在那所老房子里我们带着爱情相爱
那地板的木条已经被擦出了凹陷，木纹如绘
我们将薄被铺成地毯，在壁炉前，曲肱而枕，或者一滚
便支起身体，像两只螳螂（想必性爱相食的情话会出现在所有的枕边）
即便这是战场，谁都不会有摔下去的忧虑
窄长的窗户投下幽暗的光，窗棂的骨架如裸裎的你我
你的喃喃肯定有关什么，犹如在天花板上有一双眼睛一样的鱼在游
而我盯着你，我的深处，男人的力温暖而柔韧
室外，另一个时间在铺展，我们进入便会同样迷失
在草地上或行或止，果树稀疏，筛过的阳光照在脸上
一棵大橡树的树杈上有几丛木耳，褐黄，滋润而硬朗
如丰饶的扇贝，小精灵的维纳斯由此诞生，小蠓虫营营碌碌
这是萌芽后的季节，果实开始丰满，却仍带着茸毛
而在我们走后的成熟季节，那个时间没有了我们，会怎样
……还有你我，与那所房子分离之后，会怎样
昼光逐渐消退，天色开始拥挤
东方与西方都向大地沉伏，只有偶尔的鸟叫无中生有
我们随着时间进入一日的尽头，没有想一天之后还有一天，没有想夜日相继
在那所房子里，我爱你
比想象和相信的更丰厚，比看见和触摸的更具体
比文字中的爱情更像爱情，而不是孤独、思念或者需要
除了在那儿那样，我们谁都说不出爱情还能是什么
那房子想必还在，在另一个时间，我们曾经，在那儿，爱过爱情
2008年3月4-5日
The planks have been scrubbed into white flesh, their veins bare,
We carpet the floor with quilt and we pillow on bended arms.
Rolling over, we become two praying mantises (and sexual cannibalism does enter
Our pillow talk), but we need not worry about falling down even if it is a battlefield.
The narrow window casts down dim light, its frame stark like our bodies;
Your murmurs must be about something, as if on the ceiling floats
A pair of eye-like goldfish, while my eyes fix on yours,
Something from my ganglion deeply softened, very masculine.
Outside, another time lies supine and spreads, into which we may enter to get lost.
There is a lawn we can stroll on, with a few fruit trees that stand to sieve the sun;
On a big oak, Jew’s ears cluster, brown and visually hard, like scallops of fertility
On which the genii of Venus are being born among nameless midges.
It is a post-burgeoning season, and fruits are growing fuller, yet still velvety.
Afterwards, the maturing season will be behind us.
Without our witness, what will befall the time?
Without our presence, what will befall the house?
Daylight is fading away, the colors of sky are getting crowded,
And both the east and the west are falling prone on the earth,
With only occasional bird cries cutting through the vacancy.
We are with the ongoing, the succession of night and day lying beyond our minds.
In that house, I love you, more than what has been imagined and believed,
More than what can be seen and touched,
More like love than love in words, spoken or printed….
Yet neither of us can tell what love is except that love is to be in there, and
The house must be still there, in another time, where we have been, in love with love.
Feb. -- Mar., 2008
Belle Isle, Northern Ireland在那所老房子里我们带着爱情相爱
那地板的木条已经被擦出了凹陷，木纹如绘
我们将薄被铺成地毯，在壁炉前，曲肱而枕，或者一滚
便支起身体，像两只螳螂（想必性爱相食的情话会出现在所有的枕边）
即便这是战场，谁都不会有摔下去的忧虑
窄长的窗户投下幽暗的光，窗棂的骨架如裸裎的你我
你的喃喃肯定有关什么，犹如在天花板上有一双眼睛一样的鱼在游
而我盯着你，我的深处，男人的力温暖而柔韧
室外，另一个时间在铺展，我们进入便会同样迷失
在草地上或行或止，果树稀疏，筛过的阳光照在脸上
一棵大橡树的树杈上有几丛木耳，褐黄，滋润而硬朗
如丰饶的扇贝，小精灵的维纳斯由此诞生，小蠓虫营营碌碌
这是萌芽后的季节，果实开始丰满，却仍带着茸毛
而在我们走后的成熟季节，那个时间没有了我们，会怎样
……还有你我，与那所房子分离之后，会怎样
昼光逐渐消退，天色开始拥挤
东方与西方都向大地沉伏，只有偶尔的鸟叫无中生有
我们随着时间进入一日的尽头，没有想一天之后还有一天，没有想夜日相继
在那所房子里，我爱你
比想象和相信的更丰厚，比看见和触摸的更具体
比文字中的爱情更像爱情，而不是孤独、思念或者需要
除了在那儿那样，我们谁都说不出爱情还能是什么
那房子想必还在，在另一个时间，我们曾经，在那儿，爱过爱情
2008年3月4-5日
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
A Note on Pound's "Liu Ch'e"
A Note on Pound's "Liu Ch'e"
庞德译《落叶哀蝉曲》小识
落叶哀蝉曲
汉武帝刘彻
罗袂兮无声，玉墀兮尘生。
虚房冷而寂寞。落叶依于扃。
望彼美女兮安得，感余心之未宁。
Word-by-Word Exegesis
落Falling 叶Leaves哀Whining/ Sad蝉Cicada 曲Song/ Tune
汉Han (Dynasty) 武帝Wu Emperor刘彻Liu Che
罗袂silk skirt兮ah无no声sound，
玉jade墀step兮ah尘dust生grow。
虚empty房room/house冷cold而and寂silent寞lonely。
落fall叶leaves依press close于to扃door。
望look at彼that美beautiful女lady兮ah安how得attain，
感touch/feel余my心heart之(‘s, possessive)未not宁calm。
Perhaps without the “invention” of modern American poetry of classical Chinese poetry, many Chinese readers would not be impressed by this poem. This poem, supposedly written by an emperor about his deceased concubine-wife, was not in the popular anthology in China. Yet, when Ezra Pound translated it into an influential imagist poem and threw back to contemporary Chinese readers, it somehow initiates a new way of re-reading Chinese poetry even among the native Chinese readers. Pound’s translation is as follows:
也许我们大部分人在没有接触美国现代诗的时候，并不一定对这首悼亡诗有多么深的印象。但是，这可是美国现代诗歌史上非常著名的一首中国诗！因为大诗人庞德翻译了，因此将中国诗也重新发布了。这首诗在诗歌史上留下了一个非常著名的意象（也就是最后一行），其影响不下于那著名的地铁站口的人面桃花。
Liu Ch’e
Ezra Pound
The rustling of the silk is discontinued,
Dust drifts over the court-yard,
There is no sound of foot-fall, and the leaves
Scurry into heaps and lie still,
And she the rejoicer of the heart is beneath them:
A wet leaf that clings to the threshold.
回译：
刘彻
丝绸的窸瑟声断了，
灰尘飘落在庭院，
没有落脚之音，而叶子
急急飞落，堆积，悄然倒伏，
她，心之欢愉，居于其下：
一片潮湿的叶子粘在门槛。
The most conspicuous transformation in Pound’s version is the omission of the subject “I”. Without the possessive “my” in the last line of the original text, the whole poem is rendered as a spectacle for every-man. The “the rejoicer of the heart” becomes the desire of every reader who does not need to read as a parasite to the emperor; instead, the reader can construct an isolated subjecthood by himself. In fact, this imagist rendition may be understood as a violation enacted by Western mimetic representation upon Chinese lyrical expressionism. The aura of an emperor’s private collection is undone so that everyone can take it as a possible object of desire.
这最后一行单独分开，将所有的哀愁忧伤写成了“一片潮湿的叶子粘在门槛”。这片叶子也就成了艾略特所谓的“客观对应物”了。看到的是在门槛上，实则是贴在心头，难以排解。令人叫绝。
与其说美国意象派诗人发现中国诗没有议论，只是意象，不如说他们发明了意象，反过来加之于中国诗。我们通常理解的意象派所谓的image意象看似客观的图像，实则被充满了感情。其实这很有中国的所谓“意境”的趣味。剔除了语气词，降低了感叹，而且将一个非常关键的“余”给省略了，于是“望彼美女”的主体留空了，不是“余”，而成为了一个大写的凝视者。因此，那个缺场的美人才成为了我们所有人共享的欲望之spectacle“景儿”。我们读，我们进入了现场，进入了这个空的现场，被这些意象充满，于是我们深处的某种空、某种缺失便被临时替换而充满了。这里有一个唤起过程，也就是我们被一个看似客观的意象占有了。这首诗中“余”的消隐过程，其实是西方式的mimetic representation模仿再现对于东方式的lyrical expression抒情表现的僭越，犹如将一个皇帝的私家收藏注销了皇威，成了普通读者都可以占有的欲望。
庞德译《落叶哀蝉曲》小识
落叶哀蝉曲
汉武帝刘彻
罗袂兮无声，玉墀兮尘生。
虚房冷而寂寞。落叶依于扃。
望彼美女兮安得，感余心之未宁。
Word-by-Word Exegesis
落Falling 叶Leaves哀Whining/ Sad蝉Cicada 曲Song/ Tune
汉Han (Dynasty) 武帝Wu Emperor刘彻Liu Che
罗袂silk skirt兮ah无no声sound，
玉jade墀step兮ah尘dust生grow。
虚empty房room/house冷cold而and寂silent寞lonely。
落fall叶leaves依press close于to扃door。
望look at彼that美beautiful女lady兮ah安how得attain，
感touch/feel余my心heart之(‘s, possessive)未not宁calm。
Perhaps without the “invention” of modern American poetry of classical Chinese poetry, many Chinese readers would not be impressed by this poem. This poem, supposedly written by an emperor about his deceased concubine-wife, was not in the popular anthology in China. Yet, when Ezra Pound translated it into an influential imagist poem and threw back to contemporary Chinese readers, it somehow initiates a new way of re-reading Chinese poetry even among the native Chinese readers. Pound’s translation is as follows:
也许我们大部分人在没有接触美国现代诗的时候，并不一定对这首悼亡诗有多么深的印象。但是，这可是美国现代诗歌史上非常著名的一首中国诗！因为大诗人庞德翻译了，因此将中国诗也重新发布了。这首诗在诗歌史上留下了一个非常著名的意象（也就是最后一行），其影响不下于那著名的地铁站口的人面桃花。
Liu Ch’e
Ezra Pound
The rustling of the silk is discontinued,
Dust drifts over the court-yard,
There is no sound of foot-fall, and the leaves
Scurry into heaps and lie still,
And she the rejoicer of the heart is beneath them:
A wet leaf that clings to the threshold.
回译：
刘彻
丝绸的窸瑟声断了，
灰尘飘落在庭院，
没有落脚之音，而叶子
急急飞落，堆积，悄然倒伏，
她，心之欢愉，居于其下：
一片潮湿的叶子粘在门槛。
The most conspicuous transformation in Pound’s version is the omission of the subject “I”. Without the possessive “my” in the last line of the original text, the whole poem is rendered as a spectacle for every-man. The “the rejoicer of the heart” becomes the desire of every reader who does not need to read as a parasite to the emperor; instead, the reader can construct an isolated subjecthood by himself. In fact, this imagist rendition may be understood as a violation enacted by Western mimetic representation upon Chinese lyrical expressionism. The aura of an emperor’s private collection is undone so that everyone can take it as a possible object of desire.
这最后一行单独分开，将所有的哀愁忧伤写成了“一片潮湿的叶子粘在门槛”。这片叶子也就成了艾略特所谓的“客观对应物”了。看到的是在门槛上，实则是贴在心头，难以排解。令人叫绝。
与其说美国意象派诗人发现中国诗没有议论，只是意象，不如说他们发明了意象，反过来加之于中国诗。我们通常理解的意象派所谓的image意象看似客观的图像，实则被充满了感情。其实这很有中国的所谓“意境”的趣味。剔除了语气词，降低了感叹，而且将一个非常关键的“余”给省略了，于是“望彼美女”的主体留空了，不是“余”，而成为了一个大写的凝视者。因此，那个缺场的美人才成为了我们所有人共享的欲望之spectacle“景儿”。我们读，我们进入了现场，进入了这个空的现场，被这些意象充满，于是我们深处的某种空、某种缺失便被临时替换而充满了。这里有一个唤起过程，也就是我们被一个看似客观的意象占有了。这首诗中“余”的消隐过程，其实是西方式的mimetic representation模仿再现对于东方式的lyrical expression抒情表现的僭越，犹如将一个皇帝的私家收藏注销了皇威，成了普通读者都可以占有的欲望。
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Adrienne Rich: Paula Becker to Clara Westhoff
Paula Becker to Clara Westhoff
Adrienne Rich (1929-)
Paula Becker 1876-1907
Clara Westhoff 1878-1954
became friends at Worpswede, an artists' colony near Bremen, Germany, summer 1899. In January 1900, spent a half-year together in Paris, where Paula painted and Clara studied sculpture with Rodin. In August they returned to Worpswede, and spent the next winter together in Berlin. In 1901, Clara married the poet Rainer Maira Rilke; soon after, Paula married the painter Otto Modersohn. She died in a hemorrhage after childbirth, murmuring, What a pity!
Adrienne Rich (1929-)
Paula Becker 1876-1907
Clara Westhoff 1878-1954
became friends at Worpswede, an artists' colony near Bremen, Germany, summer 1899. In January 1900, spent a half-year together in Paris, where Paula painted and Clara studied sculpture with Rodin. In August they returned to Worpswede, and spent the next winter together in Berlin. In 1901, Clara married the poet Rainer Maira Rilke; soon after, Paula married the painter Otto Modersohn. She died in a hemorrhage after childbirth, murmuring, What a pity!
The autumn feels slowed down,
summer still hold on here, even the light
seems to last longer than it should
or maybe I'm using it to the thin edge.
The moon rolls in the air. I didn't want this child.
You're the only one I've told.
I want a child maybe, someday, but not now.
Otto has a calm, complacent way
of following me with his eyes, as if to say
Soon you’ll have your hands full!
And yes, I will; this child will be mine
not his, the failures, if I fail
will be all mine. We're not good, Clara,
at learning to prevent these things,
and once we have a child, it is ours.
But lately, I feel beyond Otto or anyone.
I know now the kind of work I have to do.
It takes such energy! I have the feeling I'm
moving somewhere, patiently, impatiently,
in my loneliness. I’m looking everywhere in nature
for new forms, old forms in new places,
the planes of an antique mouth, let's say, among the leaves.
I know and do not know
what I am searching for.
Remember those months in the studio together,
you up to your strong forearms in wet clay,
I trying to make something of the strange impressions
assailing me – the Japanese
flowers and birds on silk, the drunks
sheltering in the Louvre, that river-light,
those faces….Did we know exactly
why we were there? Paris unnerved you,
you found it too much, yet you went on
with your work….and later we met there again,
both married then, and I thought you and Rilke
both seemed unnerved. I felt a kind of joylessness
between you. Of course he and I
have had our difficulties. Maybe I was jealous
of him, to begin with, taking you from me,
maybe I married Otto to fill up
my loneliness for you.
Rainer, of course, knows more than Otto knows,
he believes in women. Which of us could say that?
Which of us, Clara, hasn’t had to take that leap
out beyond our being women
to save our work? or is it to save ourselves?
Marriage is lonelier than solitude.
Do you know: I was dreaming I had died
giving birth to the child.
I couldn't paint or speak or even move.
My child – I think – survived me. But what was funny
in the dream was, Rainer had written my requiem—
a long, beautiful poem, and calling me his friend.
I was your friend
But in the dream you didn't say a word.
In the dream his poem was like a letter
to someone who has no right
to be there but must be treated gently, like a guest
who comes on the wrong day. Clara, why don't I dream of you?
That photo of the two of us – I have it still,
you and I looking hard into each other
and my painting behind us. How we used to work
side by side! And how I've worked since then
trying to create according to our plan
that we’d bring, against all odds, our full power
to every subject. Hold back nothing
because we were women. Clara, our strength still lies
in the things we used to talk about:
how life and death take one another's hands,
the struggle for truth, our old pledge against guilt.
And now I feel dawn and the coming day.
I love waking in my studio, seeing my pictures
come alive in the light. Sometimes I feel
it is myself that kicks inside me,
myself I must give suck to, love….
I wish we could have done this for each other
all our lives, but we can't….
They say a pregnant woman
dreams of her own death. But life and death
take one another's hands. Clara, I feel so full
of work, the life I see ahead, and love
for you, who of all people
however badly I say this
will hear all I say and cannot say.
1975-1976
from The Dream of a Common Language
Personally, I take this poem to be one of Rich's best poems, although the Norton book of her poetry and criticism does not anthologize it. About the picture, Rilke wrote in his diary: "How much I am learning from the gaze of these two young women, especially the painter's [Paula] with her brown, seeing eyes! And how much closer I feel once more to all that is unconscious and marvelous...!" It was Paula that Rilke first fell into, and it turned out that Paula would soon be engaged, so Rilke turned to her best friend Clara!
褒拉·贝克致克拉拉·韦斯特霍夫
[美]艾德琳•瑞奇
褒拉٠ 贝克（1876-1907）
克拉拉٠ 韦斯特霍夫 （1878-1954）
于1899年夏天在德国不莱梅附近的艺术家聚居地沃普绥德（Worpswede）相识为友。1900年1月又在巴黎共同度过半年时光，其时褒拉习画，克拉拉师从罗丹学习雕塑。8月份她们回到沃普绥德，在柏林共度一个冬天。1901年，克拉拉嫁给了诗人莱纳٠玛丽٠里尔克；不久之后，褒拉与画家奥托٠莫德松（Otto Modersohn）结了婚。她在产后大出血中死去，死前喃喃地说，真可惜！
感觉秋天慢了下来，
夏季还迟迟不愿离开，甚至昼光
似乎也不该留连得这么久
或许我有点太得寸进尺。
月亮在空中转动。我并不想要这个孩子。
你是惟一听到我说这话的人。
也许有一天，我会要一个孩子的，但不是现在。
奥托用一种平静而自得的眼神
尾随着我，似乎在说
很快你就会手脚不停！
是，我定会那样；这孩子将是我的，
不是他的，所有闪失（如果我有闪失）
也都是我的。我们不够精明，克拉拉，
学不会如何预防这些事情，
一旦我们有了孩子，都是我们自己的事。
但是最近，无论对奥托还是谁我都心不在焉。
我现在才知道我必须做哪种工作。
那要消耗多少精力啊！我有一种感觉，我正
向某处进发，耐心也罢，急躁也罢，
总是孑然一人。我在自然中的每一处寻找
新的形式，在新地方寻找旧的形式，
一张远古嘴型的各个立面，例如，都可在树叶中寻找。
我有数，但我又说不清楚
到底在寻求什么。
记得在工作室共处的那几个月，
你，软湿的粘土一直沾到你强健的前臂，
我，力图从那些不停涌现的诡异印象中
创作出什么——绢丝上的
日本花鸟，栖身于
卢浮宫的醉汉，河上的灯火，
纷繁的脸孔……你当时是否确知
我们为何会在那儿？巴黎，令你身心交瘁，
你难以承受，但还是坚持
不懈地工作……而后，我们在那儿再次相遇，
都已结婚嫁人，而我感到你和里尔克
似乎都身心交瘁。我感觉有一种无欢
隔开了你们。当然，他与我
也有我们的难处。也许我对他有点
嫉妒，起码可以说，他从我身边将你夺走，
也许我嫁给奥托是为了弥补
失去你的孤独。
当然，莱纳比奥托更加洞达一些，
他崇信女人。我们俩有谁能这么说？
克拉拉，我们谁能不必跳开一步，
超越身为女人的界线，
就能保全自己的劳作？或许，这是为了保全自身？
婚姻，比独处更加孤独。
你知道吗：我总是梦见我已经死了，
死于生这个孩子。
我不能画画、不能说话，甚至不能走动。
我想，我这孩子没有随我死去。但怪就怪在：
在梦中，莱纳已经为我写好了安魂曲——
一首优美的长诗，还称我是他的朋友。
我是你的朋友啊，
但在梦中你却一声不吭。
梦中，他的诗篇就像一封信，
一封寄给某个没有权利在场
但又必须以礼相待的人，犹如一个客人
在不该来的日子登门。克拉拉，为什么我梦见的不是你？
我们俩的那张相片——我还保存着，
你我目不转睛凝神对视，
身后是我的画作。我们当时工作起来
总是形影相随！而自那之后我多么拼命，
力图依照我们的计划创造出
我们排除万难也要尽心竭力的
每一个主题。绝不因为是女人
而有任何保留。克拉拉，我们的强势仍在于
我们常常讨论的那些事情：
生死之手如何紧紧相扣，
求真的争斗，我们反抗愧疚的古老誓约。
此刻我感到黎明与一日的来临。
我喜欢醒在画室里，看着我的画
在晨光中活起来。有时我觉得
在腹内踢我的就是我自己，
是我必须哺乳的自我，爱……
我祈望我们能这样彼此哺育
一生一世，但我们不能……
人们说孕妇
会梦到自己的死。但是生死之手
紧紧相扣。克拉拉，我觉得自己因工作
而充实，看到了以后的生活，也感到
对你的爱，不管我对所有别人
所说的一切多么不智，你
将听到我所说出与不能说出的一切。
1975-1976
选自艾德琳•瑞奇诗集《共同语言之梦》
译按：
我个人认为这是一首非常成功的诗篇，然而奇怪的是竟然没有诗歌选本收选这首诗，甚至连她的Norton诗歌选都没有收。有关诗歌中所提到的那张照片见上，而里尔克在自己的日记中这样写道：“我从这两位年轻女性的凝视中，体悟到多少深意啊！尤其是从那位画家棕色的极具穿透力的眼神中。我又一次感到自己与那无法知觉的神奇是那么接近……！”。事实上，里尔克首先爱上的是葆拉，但是葆拉很快就要订婚了，因此里尔克转向她最好的朋友克拉拉。
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Fan Jinghua: This Season Needs Sunshine…
This Season Needs Sunshine…
Everyone has crawled out of their poorly-lit cave,
so vulnerable to clouds.
* * *
I’ll take out all my salt bottles
from my kitchen cupboard, from my bathroom shelves,
and scatter my salt around the root of peach trees
in your night garden
to melt the last whites of snow,
to nourish the pretty faces you wake to meet.
* * *
Everyone needs caress in spring,
I need your smile to caress the breeze
that then stirs and echoes in my cave.
Feb. 29, 2008
这个季节需要阳光……
每个人都从照明不足的洞穴中爬出来，
如此易感于阴云。
* * *
我将拿出我所有的盐瓶，
从厨房的柜子里，从浴室的层架上，
洒在你黑夜花园的桃树下
融化那最后一小片寒冷，
给那些娇美的笑容提供营养，
迎接你的醒来。
* * *
每个人都需要在春天里有人的抚触，
我需要你的微笑抚触春风，
需要那春风然后回荡在我的洞穴。
2008年3月2日
Everyone has crawled out of their poorly-lit cave,
so vulnerable to clouds.
* * *
I’ll take out all my salt bottles
from my kitchen cupboard, from my bathroom shelves,
and scatter my salt around the root of peach trees
in your night garden
to melt the last whites of snow,
to nourish the pretty faces you wake to meet.
* * *
Everyone needs caress in spring,
I need your smile to caress the breeze
that then stirs and echoes in my cave.
Feb. 29, 2008
这个季节需要阳光……
每个人都从照明不足的洞穴中爬出来，
如此易感于阴云。
* * *
我将拿出我所有的盐瓶，
从厨房的柜子里，从浴室的层架上，
洒在你黑夜花园的桃树下
融化那最后一小片寒冷，
给那些娇美的笑容提供营养，
迎接你的醒来。
* * *
每个人都需要在春天里有人的抚触，
我需要你的微笑抚触春风，
需要那春风然后回荡在我的洞穴。
2008年3月2日
Fan Jinghua: Love
Love
At first, it was only a dark dot, a floating particle
that took you around in your displacement.
Pulled into focus but pushed so away, you seemed to be a dwarf
lost in a constellation, as she would say,
but everything correlates in rotation and revolution.
You might take your place behind a staircase, and said
one could never be lonely,
with all those steps of ups and downs.
Then she came like all the others who come by,
but she fell into her own way of seeing the lines in this narrow space,
hers was a perspectival deepening.
In a coordinate in terms of dimensions and IQ and aspiration she dredged you
from an area: below average, unrated and positive.
There is a liquefied multilayered circle that holds light that holds darkness
that keeps you apart.
No cries can be heard in this too vast plain,
and there are no echoes.
She has rains of cloud stones to dodge,
and she has only two arms to wrap up her head.
The terror of accidents oozes like tears that have never welled up
but crystallized into shining motes beneath your lids.
I marvel at their neon colors, forgetting to pray for pure light
and unable to ask why.
It is the mystique that binds, the smart that make you feel for her,
it is a baroque pearl she holds painfully, tenderly and warmly;
she says this is good, and you hear confidence and modesty and unshed tears.
March 1, 2008
爱
起初，那只是一个黑点，飘浮的粒子，
在不适中时隐时现。
暗淡时被忘却，隐约时进入视野，“这是
星云中的一只矮星”，她说，而一切
都在运转中彼此关联。
你自然能蜗居在楼梯间，看出
那是一个多么合适的居所，听上上下下的脚步，
连孤独的梦也不会无人搅扰。
然而她来了，犹如所有路过的人，只是
她无法抵制自己的迷信，将狭窄空间的线条
理顺，构成一个无底的透视，扭曲了
一个实体、智商与抱负组成的坐标，
从均数之下、未经审查与正值的区域将你捕捞出来。
只是你和她隔着一条多层的液体环带，
间杂着光、间杂着黑暗。
这是一种无垠的平坦，所有的呼喊
都没有回音，
而她正需要穿越陨石雨，只能用双手抱着头躲避。
对于意外，你怀着很深的恐惧，
犹如一滴泪水迟迟没有涌起，
已经在眼睑下结晶。
你赞叹那霓虹的彩光，忘记了祈求更加纯净的明亮，
也不敢追问原因。
这刺痛令你感受着她，这神秘将你们系在一起，
这是一粒不规则的黑珍珠，
她默默地含着你，带着痛苦、柔情与温暖；
她说，这很好，而你听到了自信与谦和
以及没流出的泪滴。
2008年3月2日
At first, it was only a dark dot, a floating particle
that took you around in your displacement.
Pulled into focus but pushed so away, you seemed to be a dwarf
lost in a constellation, as she would say,
but everything correlates in rotation and revolution.
You might take your place behind a staircase, and said
one could never be lonely,
with all those steps of ups and downs.
Then she came like all the others who come by,
but she fell into her own way of seeing the lines in this narrow space,
hers was a perspectival deepening.
In a coordinate in terms of dimensions and IQ and aspiration she dredged you
from an area: below average, unrated and positive.
There is a liquefied multilayered circle that holds light that holds darkness
that keeps you apart.
No cries can be heard in this too vast plain,
and there are no echoes.
She has rains of cloud stones to dodge,
and she has only two arms to wrap up her head.
The terror of accidents oozes like tears that have never welled up
but crystallized into shining motes beneath your lids.
I marvel at their neon colors, forgetting to pray for pure light
and unable to ask why.
It is the mystique that binds, the smart that make you feel for her,
it is a baroque pearl she holds painfully, tenderly and warmly;
she says this is good, and you hear confidence and modesty and unshed tears.
March 1, 2008
爱
起初，那只是一个黑点，飘浮的粒子，
在不适中时隐时现。
暗淡时被忘却，隐约时进入视野，“这是
星云中的一只矮星”，她说，而一切
都在运转中彼此关联。
你自然能蜗居在楼梯间，看出
那是一个多么合适的居所，听上上下下的脚步，
连孤独的梦也不会无人搅扰。
然而她来了，犹如所有路过的人，只是
她无法抵制自己的迷信，将狭窄空间的线条
理顺，构成一个无底的透视，扭曲了
一个实体、智商与抱负组成的坐标，
从均数之下、未经审查与正值的区域将你捕捞出来。
只是你和她隔着一条多层的液体环带，
间杂着光、间杂着黑暗。
这是一种无垠的平坦，所有的呼喊
都没有回音，
而她正需要穿越陨石雨，只能用双手抱着头躲避。
对于意外，你怀着很深的恐惧，
犹如一滴泪水迟迟没有涌起，
已经在眼睑下结晶。
你赞叹那霓虹的彩光，忘记了祈求更加纯净的明亮，
也不敢追问原因。
这刺痛令你感受着她，这神秘将你们系在一起，
这是一粒不规则的黑珍珠，
她默默地含着你，带着痛苦、柔情与温暖；
她说，这很好，而你听到了自信与谦和
以及没流出的泪滴。
2008年3月2日
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