Whispers Of Nanny, A Translation by A.H

呢喃曲

written by Clock Li

吟吟碎,纤云醉,

南国秋夜迷人睡。

哝哝诲,岚风退,

一年一期,几世前生;

还罪。

呤呤念,水帘倩;

夏雨风卷离人涟。

咿咿羡,檐瓦见,

一世蝉鸣,一日觅欢;

生怨。

Whispers Of Nanny

Translated by Aiden Heung

Your whispers 

                      broken;

Drunk

                     the tender cloud above;

This southern land,

                      This autumn,  for us, 

inebriating, 

                       soporific.

Now the mountain haze retreats

                       and abate 

your whispers. 

Our rendezvous

                                once in a lifetime,

exhaustion of all felicity 

                              of my previous lives.

Or my remission.

 

Broken whispers,

                          from the curtain 

of falling water;

Comes the summer rain, 

                               or the wind

 that ripples the lake— 

Your departing face 

                          and lost!

Under the eaves, 

                         a cicada moans 

a lifelong time

and yearns 

                        for the pleasure of a day.

 

The sorrow of life…
* As required by A Shanghai Poetry Zine to translate one of their received Chinese poems,  written by a local Shanghainese poet Clock Li.

*I do not have the right to the Chinese poem, should any objection arise for publishing in my personal blog, I would delete it accordingly.

*I reserve my right to the translation.

November, 2018

The sad blue sky’s clear dust gropes its way down 

toward the city,

The asphalt roads glimmer like ice.

Red lights dim, like eyes deprived of sleep, 

trying to understand the great mystery of the morning.

                      

An old man stands at an empty phone booth,  

looking at his map

on which a thousand places are marked,

                                                   with no names.

His walking stick dangles on his arm, 

a compass uncertain of the south, where

the sun throws a shadow.

  

Soot-colored silence,

a black cat,

jumps into an open window, the curtain tied back and knotted.

An army of houses stand vigil on the first day 

                                                   of a lunar winter 

Car Crash On Fuxing Road

I came out from the subway, 

a sense of loss 

began 

to surround me.

People gathered around the exit, 

did not give way.

I hardly knew them, 

I did not understand 

their dialect.

But some words, like birds

escaping 

a horrifying storm,

came to me 

with the sound 

of Death.

 

It was eight in the evening,

rodents began to crawl on the street;

Cameras perched on a branch

and blinked.

A police car 

parked like a corpse

beneath.

无题

一湾三泉五重楼,

半水半月半江山。

吴歌声起秋深处,

一片归心待月圆

 

Untitled

Three brooks merge into the distant bay, and off it 

some buildings come into view;

The moon half in her veil spills down her silvery light,

half the bay is lit, and half the world too.

 

In Autumn’s deep grove, a song is heard, 

a song in its local Wu dialect ,

and my heart that longs for a home , though suddenly, 

remembers that it’s almost time for another full moon.

 

Note: written on the mid-autumn festival 2018 ( 24th September, a typical day for family reunion when the mid-year moon in full ) in Chinese, in the style of ancient Chinese poems in rhymes, which is difficult to translate into English, well I’ve tried my best where the rhymes are missing, I supplement with clear-cut imagery.