Introduction to poet: Han Yu

[snowynight]

Han Yu (768–824) was more known for being a profound prose writer than a poet. He had a difficult childhood as he was orphaned in an early age, frequent demotion at an adult age and when he finally seemingly found a stable life, he was exiled to the hostile Chao Zhou because he protested against the extravagant and self-destructive behaviour In worshipping the Buddha's bone. His poetry was known to be frank and open in content, playing with different stanza form and structure, which made him influential to later poets in the coming Sung Dynasty.

Here's one of his poem reflecting his style of using daily prose language in poems: 山石 Mountain Stone translated by Betty Tsang

山石荦确行径微， 黄昏到寺蝙蝠飞。 升堂坐阶新雨足， 芭蕉叶大栀子肥。 僧言古壁佛画好， 以火来照所见稀。 铺床拂席置羹饭， 疏粝亦足饱我饥。 夜深静卧百虫绝， 清月出岭光入扉。 天明独去无道路， 出入高下穷烟霏。 山红涧碧纷烂漫， 时见松枥皆十围。 当流赤足蹋涧石， 水声激激风吹衣。 人生如此自可乐， 岂必局束为人鞿？ 嗟哉吾党二三子， 安得至老不更归？

Mountain rocks, there were many of them, rough and tough, along a narrow trail, I arrived at a temple in the wild at twilight, overhead flew bats making sail. Towards the hall I made my way and sat on the terrace to admire the new rain by my feet, There were banana leaves broad and long, and gardenia petals plump and animated. The resident monk praised the ancient murals of Buddha inside the temple, I lit a torch to see, they were truly unique and I was amazed. He prepared a bed for me, frisked away dust and brought me a meal, It was light and vegetarian with brown rice, yet more than enough to my hunger satiate. At night I lay in silence and I heard not a hum of insects, A clear moon rose over the hills casting shine through the window panes. At daybreak I left alone unable to find my way, Up there and down below, everywhere was engulfed in a haze. As it cleared, crimson flowers and the green ravine weaved a brilliant landscape. Common were pines and oaks, they were mature with impressive waists, I stepped onto boulders under the current of the waters barefoot, As the wind stirred my robe, the waters around me loquaciously babbled and rippled away. A moment like this in life should be enjoyed, Why constrain oneself to how worldly people should behave? Oh, my fellow associates sharing the same ideals, Why haven't you retired, now that you have all reached old age?

Comments

[lnhammer]

Nice.

---L.

[snowynight]

Thank you!

[alee_grrl]

Such a beautiful poem.

[snowynight]

Thank you!

[rebeccation]

I bookmarked this last week, and have found the same pleasure in it every time I've come back to read it since. I don't know if it's intentional on the part of the translator, or if it's part of the poem itself, but I found the conversational, prose-like tone of the translation worked well here.

Thanks for posting--and for the introduction.

[snowynight]

The conversational, prose-like tone is a main characteristic of Han Yu's poem, and the translator retains it. Thanks for liking it.

[(Anonymous)]

I'm not sure anyone would ever say anything like "yet more than enough to my hunger satiate" in conversation, or in real life. It's English words, but it's not English.

[jjhunter]

Mm. The tone does vary - 'to my hunger satiate' may have been conversational only if you're a hundred years or more ago, but "I lit a torch to see, they were truly unique and I was amazed" feels very much like present day, relaxed, almost stream of conscious -style.

It does make me wonder what rhythms, what phrasing in the original the translator was trying to capture in that 'satiate' line that she resorted to switching up where the verb fell from the more natural (in everyday English) 'to satiate my hunger' - maybe some variation on the lead-in immediately before ("more than enough to") could make 'to satiate' work naturally in the overall rhythm of the line in translation as well as the underlying expectation in English that an infinitive not be split?

I do think there are some spectacularly lovely lines in the translation that feel very conversational indeed; whether you feel the occasionally more formal phrasing used in a few places or this one more convoluted instance you pointed out outweigh those may be a matter of personal taste. Like many poems, how much you get out of it can depend in part on how willing you are go with the poet's version of what Chinese - - or in the translation, English - can be and find if that speaks to you or not. Like adjusting your ear to someone speaking in a different accent than you're used to, or a slightly different dialect.

If you're willing to bear with one split infinitive, I think this particular translation has much to offer, particularly on rereading. Come admire these new words at your feet; why constrain yourself only to how mainstream chatter flows?