Monday, October 1, 2012

Yan Shu

Yan Shu (晏殊), 991-1055, Northern Sung Dynasty

my translation:
A song, a new poem and a cup of wine.
Another year passes, the old weather returns at this pavilion's deck.
The evening sun lowers in the west; how many times to return again?
There is nothing but the blossoms falling away.
Like meeting an acquaintance, a swallow returns.
In this small garden, I pace in solitude along the fragrant path.

浣溪紗
一曲新詞酒一杯
去年天氣舊亭臺
夕陽西下幾時回
無可奈何花落去
似會相識燕歸來
小園香徑獨徘徊

Monday, July 30, 2012

Calligraphy of a Fa Yen poem


This is an ancient poem by the Chan (Zen) Buddhist sage Fa Yen, which I found on sacred-texts.com.

I have very little knowledge of Chinese, but the translation given there, apparently from the anthology, "The Golden Age of Zen," seemed a bit loose to me, and after playing with a dictionary awhile, I came up with a translation of my own:

Secluded, a bird speaks as in a bamboo grove.
The willows shake their golden threads constantly.
The clouds gather, the mountain valley is still.
The wind brings the apricot flowers' fragrance.
Eternity is a day, as I sit in emptiness,
clarifying the mind of all expecting and forgetting.
I wish to speak, but my words cannot reach it.
Come down to these woods: it would be good to discuss it.


Translating Chinese poetry seems especially tricky, since there's less of what we would think of as syntax, and more of an arrangement of nouns and verbs.  Their translation is here:


幽鳥語如篁 A bird in a secluded grove sings like a flute.
柳搖金線長 Willows sway gracefully with their golden threads.
雲歸山谷静 The mountain valley grows the quieter as the clouds return.
風送杏花香 A breeze brings along the fragrance of the apricot flowers.
永日蕭然坐 For a whole day I have sat here encompassed by peace,
澄心萬虞忘 Till my mind is cleansed in and out of all cares and idle thoughts.
欲言言不及 I wish to tell you how I feel, but words fail me.
林下好商量 If you come to this grove, we can compare notes.


Thursday, April 5, 2012

Catullus 3

This is my first (complete) attempt at drawing on the iPad with SketchBook Express.  It's taking me a while to get used to it, because I miss the feel of the friction on the paper when drawing with physical media.


Anyway, I translated this poem of Catullus' here:
Mourn, O Venuses & Cupids, and as many gracious men that there are!  My little girl's sparrow is dead; the sparrow, my little girl's delight, whom she used to love more than her own eyes.  For he was sweet as honey, and he knew his own as well as my little girl knew her mother; nor did he used to move himself from her lap, but jumping around now to this side, now to that, he always used to chirp to his mistress alone.  And this one now goes through the dark road to that place from where they deny anyone to return.  But may it be bad for you, wicked darkness of the underworld, you who devour all beautiful things; you took away from me such a beautiful sparrow.  O evil deed!  O poor little sparrow!  By your work now my little girl's swollen eyes are red from weeping.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Sunday, January 15, 2012

beneath the floor of a chapel

I was listening to Feist, and one of the lyrics in her song "I Feel It All" ("kick-drum on the basement floor") reminded me of a poem I had written a long time ago, so I dug it up and thought I'd copy it here.  For Joel & Omar.

A borrowed guitar strikes arpeggios
as a saxophone glides through
into the receptive air and
resonates
off constricting walls, causing
the sound to glow
wider and wider
until the notes blend into
one.
The low, round sound of the bass
fills up the feet and
spreads like stove-heat,
giving weight to the music
so that it clouds out all thoughts and blocks out all distractions moving like
incense over the three men until they can't see themselves and they can't see
their worry and they sing like
snakes,
weaving a basket that carries them all
down
a
river of sound.
Howlongwereweplaying?, they wonder
after the last note dissipates
and they look at their hands
and look at each other
with a new kind of recognition,
and sit in silence:
the liturgy of divine ecstasy
leading to
meditation.