On Parting (after Tu Mu)
This much fondness numbs me.
I ache behind my drink, and cannot smile.
The candle too, hates parting,
and drips tears for us at dawn.
A non-poet friend asked why I’m dabbling in these adaptations. After all, she said, they’ve already been translated. Why do you breathe, I replied, admittedly a dissatisfying, snarky and evasive answer. So I thought about it. Why, indeed. The usual justifications apply: as exercises in diction and rhythm, it’s fun, it’s challenging. But the truth is I love these poems, these poets, and working through the pieces allows me to inhabit the poems in a way I can’t by simply reading them. And there is a hope, however feeble, of adding to the conversation a slight nuance or a bit of texture without detracting from or eroding the original.
The transliteration on Chinese-poems.com reads:
Much feeling but seem all without feeling
Think feel glass before smile not develop
Candle have heart too reluctant to part
Instead person shed tear at dawn
This first appeared on the blog in October 2014.
O at the Edges 
Textual translation leaves MUCH to be questioned – nuance, emotion, … not to mention interpretation. Almost any poem in any language presents varied possible interpretations! You honor the poets with your focus and reflection of essence.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I attended a talk by Arthur Sze in which he pointed out that “translator” and “traitor” share a common root. I guess there’s always that element of “treason” in adaptations/translations.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That its hard to or, cannot be explained makes it infinitely profound…
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s one way of looking at it! 🙂
LikeLike