酷我-北美枫

[LavenderSwing]

I have asked Gary's permission to post his work here. And He wants to collect our comments. Thanks.

(The first in a series of transformations of Wang Wei’s River Wang poems.)

A River Transformed I: After Wang Wei’s Deer Park

Return to Deer Park

The market is shuttered and locked for the night;
No cry of “ripe persimmons, fresh for supper;”
only the scurry of rats, a sudden rain.

The road to the hill village is deserted.
Thunder over black peaks reverberates;
I imagine mountains ring with laughter.

Remember evening’s light beside the stream
as we waited beneath damp cedar fronds
and empty nests for the day to end.

Smoke drifted east as the sun returned
to illuminate mounds of moss and toadstools;
you and I unaware the light reflected green.

Crickets sang of peaches and mahogany;
remember the wasps were quiet.



*



And as I translate



Deer Park



In the empty mountains, no one,

but the sound men echoes.

Light returns to the dark forest

to illuminate moss and leaf.

[[我还没有昵称]]

I have asked Gary's permission to post his work here. And He wants to collect our comments. Thanks.

(The first in a series of transformations of Wang Wei’s River Wang poems.)

A River Transformed I: After Wang Wei’s Deer Park

Return to Deer Park

The market is shuttered and locked for the night;
No cry of “ripe persimmons, fresh for supper;”
only the scurry of rats, a sudden rain.

The road to the hill village is deserted.
Thunder over black peaks reverberates;
I imagine mountains ring with laughter.

Remember evening’s light beside the stream
as we waited beneath damp cedar fronds
and empty nests for the day to end.

Smoke drifted east as the sun returned
to illuminate mounds of moss and toadstools;
you and I unaware the light reflected green.

Crickets sang of peaches and mahogany;
remember the wasps were quiet.



*



And as I translate



Deer Park



In the empty mountains, no one,

but the sound men echoes.

Light returns to the dark forest

to illuminate moss and leaf.

[何兆龙]

River Wang poems 应该是指王维的<辋川集>，共24首。
GARY译的是第4首，全诗为：

鹿柴

空山不见人，但闻人语声。
返景(ying)入深林，复照青苔上。

柴，读ZHAI，是辋川的一个地名。

[[南音]]

River Wang poems 应该是指王维的<辋川集>，共24首。
GARY译的是第4首，全诗为：

鹿柴

空山不见人，但闻人语声。
返景(ying)入深林，复照青苔上。

柴，读ZHAI，是辋川的一个地名。

[星子]

我的看法是他的直译好像没有原诗的意境了。。

他的改译中 我喜欢
The road to the hill village is deserted.
Thunder over black peaks reverberates;
I imagine mountains ring with laughter.

---

the end of
Crickets sang of peaches and mahogany;
for me, I feel a little strange...

Can anyone here image it?

[[ANNA]]

我的看法是他的直译好像没有原诗的意境了。。

他的改译中 我喜欢
The road to the hill village is deserted.
Thunder over black peaks reverberates;
I imagine mountains ring with laughter.

---

the end of
Crickets sang of peaches and mahogany;
for me, I feel a little strange...

Can anyone here image it?

[何兆龙]

"sing of" means "use song to praise"

[[南音]]

"sing of" means "use song to praise"

[星子]

Thanks..

How about this

but the sound men echoes. ?

Right or wrong?
_________________

[[ANNA]]

Thanks..

How about this

but the sound men echoes. ?

Right or wrong?
_________________

[何兆龙]

Wrong of course.

[[南音]]

Wrong of course.

[星子]

From Gary---

Anna, thank you for your comments. The correct version of the translation should be

In the empty mountains, no one;
but the sound of men echoes.
Light returns to the dark forest
to illuminate moss and leaf.

A River Rerouted II: After Wang Wei’s Bamboo Grove (17)



From the Observation Deck in a Chinese Garden

Where there are no walls, there are no doors;
nor windows to frame the world’s shape.
Above, a roof of narrow yellow leaves;
beneath my feet, a splintered floor.

I tap dull keys in muted silence;
sometimes starlings answer, sometimes dust.
No matter how far away I move,
the city replies to questions never posed.

Move from the precipice. Beyond graffiti
and oily water, through smoke and summer haze,
picture a simpler time, when all of this
might have only been in a madman’s mind.

In a world without walls, there are no windows
to hold the moon, my songs.

*

Notes: A literal translation of Wang Wei’s Bamboo Grove

alone sit dark/secluded bamboo(s) among
strum lute and/again long whistle
deep forest man not know
bright moon come mutual-each other shine*

*to keep company by shining/illumination



The poem alludes to a Song of Chu, where the speaker grieves for his lady/her spirit.



My version, using the above literal translation.



Alone in a bamboo thicket,

I strum a guitar and sing.

In this dark wood, no one knows me;

my only company the moon’s reflection.
_________________

[[ANNA]]

From Gary---

Anna, thank you for your comments. The correct version of the translation should be

In the empty mountains, no one;
but the sound of men echoes.
Light returns to the dark forest
to illuminate moss and leaf.

A River Rerouted II: After Wang Wei’s Bamboo Grove (17)



From the Observation Deck in a Chinese Garden

Where there are no walls, there are no doors;
nor windows to frame the world’s shape.
Above, a roof of narrow yellow leaves;
beneath my feet, a splintered floor.

I tap dull keys in muted silence;
sometimes starlings answer, sometimes dust.
No matter how far away I move,
the city replies to questions never posed.

Move from the precipice. Beyond graffiti
and oily water, through smoke and summer haze,
picture a simpler time, when all of this
might have only been in a madman’s mind.

In a world without walls, there are no windows
to hold the moon, my songs.

*

Notes: A literal translation of Wang Wei’s Bamboo Grove

alone sit dark/secluded bamboo(s) among
strum lute and/again long whistle
deep forest man not know
bright moon come mutual-each other shine*

*to keep company by shining/illumination



The poem alludes to a Song of Chu, where the speaker grieves for his lady/her spirit.



My version, using the above literal translation.



Alone in a bamboo thicket,

I strum a guitar and sing.

In this dark wood, no one knows me;

my only company the moon’s reflection.
_________________