Poems etc.
It is hard, I recon, to translate classic Chinese poetry into English. I took a comparative study of English and Chinese classic poetry in college, and have to say, structurally they are incomparable due to huge cultural and language differences.
Chinese classics, like the Dream of Red Mansion, the Journey to the West, or the Outlaws of the Marsh, are even more difficult to translate. I have the English translations but they fail to catch the spirit and vividness of the originals. It is interesting to read them side by side, as a reminder of how disparate the two languages are. This is not to deny the humongous work that the scholars had to undergo to complete the project. It is just sometimes impossible to loyally and artistically translate a masterpiece into another language.
Of the handful female poets, Li
Qingzhao is my favorite. She lived in the late South Song Dynasty
(1127-1278), a chaotic period when central China was under constant
invasion from the northern nomads. Her personal life suffered greatly from the
wars. Her last years faded into history and remains a mystery. Her poems reflected the changes in her life, from a carefree teenage girl
to a mourning widow. She was famous for Ci, short-and-long verses.
It is not easy to catch the charm of
her poems in translation. This poem is the best translation, I think, of her
masterpiece "醉花阴".
To the tune of Intoxicated Under the Shadow of Flowers
- The Double Ninth Festival
Light mists and heavy clouds,
- translated by Lucy Chow
To the tune of Intoxicated Under the Shadow of Flowers
- The Double Ninth Festival
Light mists and heavy clouds,
melancholy
the long dreary day,
In the
golden censer
the
burning incense is dying away.
It is
again time
for
the lovely Double Ninth festival;
The
coolness of midnight
penetrates my
screen of shear silk
and chills my pillow of jade.
After drinking wine after twilight
under the chrysanthemum hedge,
My sleeves are perfumed
by the faint fragrance of the plants.
Oh, I cannot say it is not enchanting,
Only, when the west wind stirs the curtain,
I see that I am more gracile
than the yellow flowers- translated by Lucy Chow
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