xue tao
In a culture dominated by male poets it is refreshing to discover other voices, even if one must look a little harder to find them. In ancient China, during the Tang dynasty (618 — 907 AD), women poets could be found working in several occupations but a large number were entertainers or courtesans. Zhao Luanluan was a courtesan and so was Xue Tao.
The Chinese scholar and translator Jeanne Larsen writes this biographical sketch of Xue Tao in her anthology, Willow, Wine, Mirror, Moon: women's poems from Tang China (BOA: editions limited, 2005, page 141):
Xue Tao aka Xue Hongdu (c. 768-c. 832) lived in Chengdu; her family originated in Chang'an. Her father, a government functionary, died when she was young. She became a courtesan and protegee of a powerful military governor, hostessing at official gatherings. Word of her cleverness and talent spread; literary men exchanged verses with her — doing so was evidently something of a coup. Xue eventually adopted the garb of a Taoist adept, living outside the city, near where the great poet Du Fu had also taken on the role of semi-recluse. Her penchant for invigorating, sometimes racy colloquialisms does not fit the norms of elite verse; that is not what she needed to write and often her diction suggests impromptu composition at a party. Other poems show she had the capacity to pick up on the bits of canonical learning she could gleam from her place place in life. They can be found in [her book] Brocade River Poems.
Here is a poem of hers in Chinese. The title has variously been translated as, Spring Gazing and Gazing at Spring:
春望词四首
花开不同赏，花落不同悲。
欲问相思处，花开花落时。
(扌监)草结同心，将以遗知音。
春愁正断绝，春鸟复哀吟。
风花日将老，佳期犹渺渺。
不结同心人，空结同心草。
The follow is my translation of the poem. I should note first that I know very, very, very little Chinese and I am sure my translation is wildly inaccurate. I apologize ahead of time for that, but the poem delighted me so much I felt I just had to give it a try. Having said that I take full responsibilities for any errors you might find here and hope my poor attempts will not spoil the wonderfulness of the original for anyone.
1.
Flowers will bloom; no one to delight in them with.
Flowers will fall; no one to grieve over them with.
When does love's hungriness stir in us the most?
When flowers bloom or when they fall?2.
I gather scented herbs, tie a lover's heart-shape knot
and send it to the one who understands this song.
But when my springtime sorrow is about to shatter in me
all the young birds break into their saddest laments.3.
These wind tossed flowers, this day, are aging.
Who can tell me the day we shall be together?
If I cannot tie my heart to yours, lover,
it's foolish to keep these heart-shaped knots.
It would be silly for me to act as if I pulled my translation of this poem out of thin air or that my skills were such that I was able to mumble my way through the original. I worked off three different translations in English for the poem you just read.
It is my belief that a good translator needs to read up on how others read the source material. A poetic translation is a tricky thing; not only do you have to stay true to the original in spirit (literal, word for word translations are the death of a foreign poem) but you have to make the poem sing loud in the language you are working in. True, it is important not to mimic what other translators have written but I think it helps tremendously to see how they brought life to their poems.
That said the first version I discovered was by Larsen herself, from The British Museum: Chinese Love Poetry (edited by Jane Portal, The British Museum Press, 2004, pages, 32 - 35):
1.
Flowers bloom:
no one
to enjoy them with.Flowers fall:
no one
with whom to grieve.I wonder when love's
longings
stir us most –when the flowers bloom,
or when flowers fall?2.
I gather herbs
and tie
a lover's knotto send to one
who understands my songs.So now I've cut
that springtime sorrow
off.And now the spring-stuck birds
renew their cries.3.
Windblown flowers
grow older day by day.And our best season
dwindles in the past.Without someone
to tie the knot
of love,no use to tie up
all those love-knot herbs.
Next I stumbled upon an anonymous translator from the website On the Border:
Gazing at Spring
I
When flowers bloom, no one enjoys with me.
When flowers fall, no one grieves with me.
When does lovesickness stir me more?
When flowers bloom or flowers fall.II
I gather herbs and tie a knot of love,
And wish to send to my dear beloved.
When the spring sadness is near to its ending,
Why are the spring birds back to their sobbing?III
The flowers in the wind grow daily old,
But my wedding day hasn’t been told!
If I can’t tie with my beloved man,
My knot of love will be all in vain!
Last I read Tony Barnstone's and Chou Ping's version published in The Drunken Boat:
Spring Gazing
1
Flowers bloom but we can't share them.
Flowers fall and we can't share our sadness.
If you need to find when I miss you most:
when the flowers bloom and when they fall.2
I pull a blade of grass and tie a heart-shape knot
to send to the one who understands my music.
Spring sorrow is at the breaking point.
Again spring birds murmur sad songs.3
Wind, flowers, and the day is aging.
No one knows when we'll be together.
If I can't tie my heart to my man's,
it's useless to keep tying heart-shaped knots.
Perhaps, after reading all four translations, you will come away enjoying one more than the other. That is fair. My only wish isn't that my translation is better, rather, that it isn't full of so many errors as to ruin the enjoyment for anyone. Thank you.