TRANSLATION OF “Farewell To a Friend” (LI BAI)
Source: Ezra Pound’s Translations
by Ricardo Vaz Trindade
1 – Ezra Pound’s translation
“Farewell To a Friend”
Blue mountains to the north of the walls,
White river winding about them;
Here we must make separation
And go out through a thousand miles of dead
grass.
Mind like a floating wide cloud,
Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances
Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance.
Our horses neigh to each other as we are
departing.
My very first impression on this translation
was that it was a little too colorful and vivid for a farewell poem. I also
somewhat disliked the lyricism that came along with words like “dead grass”,
“floating wide cloud” or “bow over their clasped hands”. It seemed to me that
there were too many adjectives for too little (or straightforward) substance. I immediately wanted to translate it without
any further information and quickly summarized a couple of imperatives:
- All
verses should contribute to an idea of “being alone” or “loneliness”;
- All
the “excessive” descriptions should be leveled and become synesthetic
experiences, rather than visual ones, in order to – again – emphasize the idea
of “loneliness”;
- Where
possible, the number of words should be cut down to the minimum, and the syntax
should be straightforward, in order to reflect the “simplicity” of the Chinese
language;
- I
should like what I just wrote.
2 – My first
translation
“Despedida de um
amigo”
A norte das muralhas,
as montanhas de ozono,
O rio brilhante
entrelaçado nos vales;
É aqui que nos separamos
Para seguirmos caminho
nas planícies mudas.
As nuvens suspensas e
o sol tardio
Agraciam o nosso
desencontro,
Escutam o nosso último
abraço.
O som dos cavalos é a
última coisa que ouvimos.
2.1 – Retroversion
“Farewell to a friend”
To the north of the walls, the ozone mountains,
The shining river braided through the valleys;
Here we part
To then carry on the mute plains.
The hovering clouds and the late sun
Grace our withdrawal,
Listen to our last embrace.
The sound of the horses is the last we hear.
The assessment of this translation was made
together with Margarida, who pointed out the following details:
-
The
chromatic experience in Pound’s translation was lost;
-
There
was a huge anachronism in “ozone”, a gas that would only be recognized in the
19th century, around 1000 years after than Li Bai’s decease;
-
There
was a general feeling of re-writing rather than translating from Pound.
I also started doing some research on Pound and
on the poem, including other translations and the Chinese original:
“A
Farewell to a Friend“
With a blue line of mountains north of the
wall,
And east of the city a white curve of water, Here you must leave me and drift away Like a loosened water-plant hundreds of miles....
I shall think of you in a floating cloud;
So in the sunset think of me.
...We wave our hands to say good-bye,
And my horse is neighing again and again.
And east of the city a white curve of water, Here you must leave me and drift away Like a loosened water-plant hundreds of miles....
I shall think of you in a floating cloud;
So in the sunset think of me.
...We wave our hands to say good-bye,
And my horse is neighing again and again.
(Tr. Witter Binner)
“A un amigo que parte”
Montañas azules al
norte de las murallas,
alrededor el río
blanco se crispa;
aquí precisa
separarnos
y recorrer mil millas
de pasto muerto.
La mente como ancha
flotante nube,
el ocaso como la
partida de viejas amistades
que se inclinan sobre
sus enlazadas manos a distancia.
Nuestros caballos
relinchan uno a outro mientras partimos.
(Tr. Guillermo Rousset Banda from Ezra Pound’s version)
I found out that some criticism was addressed to
Pound, concerning his translations of Li Bai’s poems. They are often regarded
as “free interpretations” rather than translation works. He sometimes adds imagistic
insights where they don’t exist, but also tries to keep close to some aspects
of the text. The degree of his reworking of the poems is variable. He is
accused by some critics of having his own expressive agenda, which is a source
of annoyance to Chinese readers, who often find his poems unreadable. Nonetheless
we must acknowledge the intrinsic beauty of his re-writings.
At this point I recollected some of Pound’s
views on literature and poetry, which can be found in “How to read” in Literary
Essays of Ezra Pound (1928). T. S. Eliot (ed.):
- “Liberty
is the right to do anything which harms not others. All of which is rather
negative and unsatisfactory.”
- “[The
function of literature in the state, in the aggregation of humans, in the
republic, in the res publica] has to do
with the clarity and vigour of ‘any and every’ thought and opinion. It has to
do with the maintaining of the very cleanness of the tools, the health of the
very matter of thought itself.”
-
“Great literature is simply language charged with meaning to the utmost
possible degree.”
- The
three “kinds of poetry” enunciated by pound:
Melopœia (Melos = Music) – Musical property of words
Panopœia (Phanos = Light) – Casting of visual images
Logopœia (Logos = Verb/Reason) – Intellectual/ironical play with words
I also noted
that the Chinese original (through its literal translation) contained some of
what we could call “faults”, rather than options, in Pound’s version. Indeed Pound
used Ernest Fenollosa’s unpublished notes on Chinese poetry as the source for
his work, and back in 1915 he didn’t have any crosschecking options. Fenollosa’s
translations were themselves secondhand versions that went through a Japanese filter,
as they were worked out together with two Japanese professors. This means that
Pound’s versions were at least three iterations away from Li Bai’s poem.
Trying to
keep as close to Pound as possible, I also aimed at “correcting” Pound’s oversights.
For example, the mountains, which are now “past the northern wall”, rather than
“north of the wall”, were given back its normal color, green (the Chinese character
for “green” is the same as for “blue”).
With all this in mind I attempted a second
translation. Besides, I put aside my personal taste for a moment and sought a
more converging solution towards Pound’s version.
3 – My second translation
“Despedida de um
amigo”
As montanhas verdes
para lá da muralha norte,
A nascente da cidade,
o rio branco serpenteante;
Aqui nos apartamos
Para palmilharmos mil quilómetros
de pastos secos.
Uma grande nuvem vela
a alma do viajante,
O sol poente pinta a
separação
De dois velhos amigos
que acenam de longe.
O nitrido dos cavalos
ouve-se à distância.
3.1 – Retroversion
“Farewell to a friend”
Green mountains past the northern wall,
To the east of the city, the winding white
river;
Here we part
And tread a thousand miles of dead pastures.
A great cloud obscures the traveler’s soul,
The setting sun colors the separation
Of two old friends who now wave from far away.
The horses’ neigh is heard from a distance.
I couldn’t really resist the temptation of introducing
some of the aspects from my first translation (e.g.: in the 6th verse
I maintain the synesthetic idea of a landscape that reflects the farewell - “O sol poente pinta a separação” [“The
setting sun colors the separation”]). Even if this version is more according to
Pound’s, I still believe it’s not quite fitted to the original text.
I went back to the Chinese text and tried to
learn more about the structure. As I heard its elocution (you can listen to it
on http://www.followtheblueflute.com/2012/04/li-bais-seeing-off-friend-300-tang.html - click the video)
and double-checked the pronunciation, I surprisingly found out that the poem
rhymes in an A-B-C-B structure, together with the 4 character structure, which
I already knew. I couldn’t help trying to assimilate these new procedures in a
new translation. I devised two stanzas within a 10 rhythmic-syllable verse.
4 – My third translation
“Despedida de um
amigo”
Verdes montanhas p’ra
lá da muralha;
Rio, cidade,
encostados a elas.
Este, o lugar onde nos
despedimos
Rumo às mil estepes de
cores amarelas.
Nuvens assombram e
velam a alma
Do meu amigo p’lo sol
escondido.
Longe acenamos,
ouvindo-se o eco
Do seu cavalo chorando
nitridos.
4.1 – Retroversion
(Note that
this is a literal translation and all the rhythmic and rhyming features are
lost. However, one can still verify the shift in semantics.)
“Farewell to a friend”
Green mountains past the Wall;
River, city, leaning on them.
This, the place where we see each other off
Heading to the thousand steppes of yellow
colors.
Clouds haunt and conceal the soul
Of my friend hidden by the sun.
From far away we wave, as we hear the echo
Of his horse crying neighs.
As a conclusion I would say that I’m not
satisfied with any of translations so far. As a translation exercise it clearly
shows how wide is the range of possibilities and how challenging can the
translator’s task be, even when considering a small and simple poem as this
one.
I can’t help realizing that one should find his
or her own poetic voice before engaging on the drill of translating poetry, as
Pound surely found his. Only then can one be appeased with his own words, even if
they don’t fit everybody’s ears.
