Blog a book
May. 17th, 2008 10:02 amMy free book arrived today - Li Po and Tu Fu.
It's very technical, but I think I'm going to enjoy it.
It fell open at a page of Chinese symbols with English words underneath and I was instantly in love!
There's so much that's potentially interesting about Chinese poetry. In one sense, you can never get an exact translation, but in another, you can almost make your own translation.
This one almost reminds me of 'Solmon Grundy'.
Here's my own cheerful rough translation of one poem (I haven't looked to see how the book as put it into verse yet):
In the middle of the river, waters flow towards the east.
Lo Yang, maiden, still your grieving,
Still your grieving.
Thirteen, weave your fine silk,
Fourteen, pick your mulberry leaves, working south along the row,
Fifteen, wed, make Lu your family,
Sixteen, live, and have your son.
The noble Lu family have elegant pavilions,
Strong beams of cassia wood, painted with gold.
There will be fresh, harmonious scents on the top of your gold pin,
twelve lines under the foot of your silk slipper.
Of a five-figured design shall be the coral of your hanging mirror,
Gleaming in the sun's rays.
Silken-haired will be your handmaiden, carrying the box with your slippers.
One can live rich, honoured,
But for what purpose and for how long?
Regret not, that you were not married,
Into the Eastern family of Wang.
Note that I've got most parts totally wrong, but it's still fun. In fact, I discover that she has twelve gold hairpins. It's hard to work out (as there is more pattern than punctuation) where one sentence ends and another begins. 'The south row' when picking mulberries is apparently an allusion to a well-known older song where the girl points out to the suitor that he is married already. So, 'south on the row' is the old Chinese literary equivalent of saying "I'm not interested" The bit about her grieving is also completely wrong. Having read the notes, her name is Mo-ch'ou - "do not grieve" which may not sound like a name, until you consider it as the equivalent of our name 'Joy'. Lo Yang is actually a place name.
This - grin - is why scholarship makes a difference.
I think I'm going to enjoy this book - I would never have chosen it for myself in a thousand years, so it's a good case of serendipity.
It's very technical, but I think I'm going to enjoy it.
It fell open at a page of Chinese symbols with English words underneath and I was instantly in love!
There's so much that's potentially interesting about Chinese poetry. In one sense, you can never get an exact translation, but in another, you can almost make your own translation.
This one almost reminds me of 'Solmon Grundy'.
Here's my own cheerful rough translation of one poem (I haven't looked to see how the book as put it into verse yet):
In the middle of the river, waters flow towards the east.
Lo Yang, maiden, still your grieving,
Still your grieving.
Thirteen, weave your fine silk,
Fourteen, pick your mulberry leaves, working south along the row,
Fifteen, wed, make Lu your family,
Sixteen, live, and have your son.
The noble Lu family have elegant pavilions,
Strong beams of cassia wood, painted with gold.
There will be fresh, harmonious scents on the top of your gold pin,
twelve lines under the foot of your silk slipper.
Of a five-figured design shall be the coral of your hanging mirror,
Gleaming in the sun's rays.
Silken-haired will be your handmaiden, carrying the box with your slippers.
One can live rich, honoured,
But for what purpose and for how long?
Regret not, that you were not married,
Into the Eastern family of Wang.
Note that I've got most parts totally wrong, but it's still fun. In fact, I discover that she has twelve gold hairpins. It's hard to work out (as there is more pattern than punctuation) where one sentence ends and another begins. 'The south row' when picking mulberries is apparently an allusion to a well-known older song where the girl points out to the suitor that he is married already. So, 'south on the row' is the old Chinese literary equivalent of saying "I'm not interested" The bit about her grieving is also completely wrong. Having read the notes, her name is Mo-ch'ou - "do not grieve" which may not sound like a name, until you consider it as the equivalent of our name 'Joy'. Lo Yang is actually a place name.
This - grin - is why scholarship makes a difference.
I think I'm going to enjoy this book - I would never have chosen it for myself in a thousand years, so it's a good case of serendipity.