What I lost in translation at both ends of the Great Divide.

And what I found for making that attempt to bridge the chasm.




Showing posts with label 采桑子. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 采桑子. Show all posts

Thursday, June 24, 2010

From Seas To Mulberry Fields 沧海桑田

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Wanderlust asked what has the content of the poem Picking Mulberries 采桑子 cǎisāngzǐ got to do with the title. (see last post). I believed it is because of the analogy of mulberry sāng which is probably derived from the proverbs 桑田沧海 sāngtián-cānghǎi and 沧海桑田 cānghǎi-sāngtián, both of which meant the same thing. Seas were being converted into mulberry fields and mulberry fields into seas; meaning time brings great changes. This proverb originated from a classic piece in the Jin (jìn) dynasty in which was written "已见东海三为桑田” meaning the Eastern Seas had already been transformed into mulberry fields three times.

The analogy was further strengthened by 饱经沧桑 bǎojīng-cāngsāng which means having experienced many vicissitudes of life. As if this was not good enough, it is further enriched by 桑榆暮景 sāngyú-mùjǐng which means the closing years of one's life. 桑榆 sāngyú by itself means sunset or old age while 暮景 mùjǐng means scene at dusk or situation at old age.

It is amazing how much a simple word like sāng can convey. It is as if the whole content of the poem can be condensed into that single word making one wonder whether the poet used the word to create the poem…
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Saturday, June 19, 2010

A Melancholy Night Picking Mulberries. 采桑子




Tonight (written last night) I was kind of melancholy so I searched for a poem to reflect my gloom. With my limited command of the language, I will have to be very lucky to find something that can paint my mood. But what do you know? Luck favours the one who try.

I am happy to find this simple yet beautiful poem by 辛弃疾 xīnqìjí. As I translated the poem, I transferred my feelings to the words so I’ll be picking mulberries before I go to sleep tonight.


采桑子 cǎisāngzǐ
Picking Mulberries

少年不知愁滋味,爱上层楼。
爱上层楼,为赋新诗强说愁。

shàonián bùzhī chóu zīwèi, ài shàngcéng lóu.
ài shàngcéng, wèi fù xīnshī qiáng shuō chóu.

When young I know not melancholy's flavor, but love to go upstairs.
Love to go upstairs, to write of imagined sorrow.

而今识尽愁滋味,欲说还休。
欲说还休,却道天凉好个秋!
érjīn shí jìn chóu zīwèi, yù shuō hái xiū.
yù shuō hái xiū, què dào tiān liáng hǎo gè qiū.

But now that I have tasted its bitterness, I hesitated to speak.
Hesitated to speak, except to sigh "what a cold autumn!"

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