
Sonnet 2
Feng Zhi (1905-) 馮至
Whatever can be shed we jettison
from bodies, let return again to dust
—a way to compose us for age. And thus,
like leaves and like late flower blooms that one
by one when autumn comes the trees release
off of their forms into the autumn winds
so they can give themselves with naked limbs
to winter, we compose ourselves to lose
in nature, like cicadas abandoning
behind them in the dirt their useless shells.
So we compose ourselves for death, a song
that though shed from the music’s form still sings
and leaves a naked music when it’s gone,
transformed into a chain of hushed blue hills.
什么能从我们身上脱落, 我们都让它化作尘埃: 我们安排我们在这时代 像秋日的树木,一棵棵 把树叶和些过迟的花朵 都交给秋风,好舒开树身 伸入严冬;我们安排我们 在自然里,像蜕化的蝉蛾 把残壳都会在泥里土里; 我们把我们安排给那个 未来的死亡,像一段歌曲 歌声从音乐的身上脱落, 归终剩下了音乐的身躯 化作一脉的青山默默。
Note on the Translation: This was a particularly fun poem to translate. It is one of a sequence of sonnets written by the great 20th century poet Feng Zhi, and for an American poet who writes both free and formal verse it was a pleasure to have the challenge to translate a Chinese sonnet into a sonnet in English. Now, the original is written in a ten character line, and so I translated it into a pentameter (10 syllable, 5 beat) line in English, and chose to use in English a broader palette of sounds to make the rhymes work. My ideas here are laid out in greater detail in my “Manifesto on the Contemporary Sonnet (http://www.cortlandreview.com/features/06/december/barnstone_e.html). [/blue_message]