|
THE
WRITERS POST (ISSN: 1527-5467) VOLUME
5 DOUBLE ISSUE WINTER 2003 - SPRING 2004
|
|
The
translator should be able to penetrate the language barrier, that he could render
in translation what is in the original.
______________________________ N. SAOMAI
Reads
SPRING ESSENCE: The
poetry of HÒ
Xuân HÜÖng
Translated by John Balaban
____________________________________ Copper Canyon Press, 2000
ISBN I-55659-I48-9 (pbk. :alk. Paper) US$15.00, pp138 ______________________________ To bridge the gap
between Western literature and Vietnamese literature, a number of translators
and established writers has introduced to interested readers their works of
translation. One of the most recent books in the field is John Balaban’s
Spring Essence: The poetry of HÒ
Xuân HÜÖng, an English
translation of HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s poetry, which introduces a Vietnamese
poetess born at the end of the second Lê Dynasty (1592-1788) ¾‘The Queen of
Nom Poetry’¾ and her poems into the Western literary community. In his introduction,
John Balaban, Professor at North Carolina State University, well-known author
of many books of poetry, translation, fiction, and non-fiction, has shown his
well knowledge of poetess HÒ Xuân HÜÖng, her poetry language, the Nôm script (as
indicated in the Copyright page: “translated from the original Nôm script”),
as well as his knowledge of the Vietnam’s culture and the Vietnamese
language. This knowledge results from an acclaimed long-termed study of a
scholarly professor; it assured the reader of a good translation of HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s poetry. Unfortunately, despite the panting of some Vietnamese
educators and the support for a literary attempt from a few Vietnamese
magazines abroad, the translation has failed. The translation version
produces just a meagre 1/3 accuracy, while at least 3/4 of the version
doesn’t show HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s poetry at all, much less it shows ‘The
Queen of Nôm Poetry’ at her best. HÒ Xuân HÜÖng
is one of the most distinguished poets of Viet-Nam, even not a great in
Vietnamese literature, whose poems were originally written in Nôm Script in the end of 18th
century, the then Vietnamese writing system which was against the dominance of
Chinese’s, mandatory in schools and government. Despite the fact that HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s poetry has been
published, republished hundreds of time in a wide range of texts,
collections, for education purpose and for the general reader during the last
century, her history as well as her original poems are still involving
scholars in the dark. In fact, never has there been a record that shows
traces of HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s
poetry committed to writing in her own time (except there’s a turn-up of late
for a disputable LÜu HÜÖng Kš).
Being written in the late eighteenth century her poems, living on in the
memory of the people and being conveyed by oral recitation, were introduced
to the literary community much later in the early 20th century.
The earliest compilation of HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s poetry was compiled by Antony Landes in
1893. The typographically printed compilation in National script existed as
late as 1913. (Following ñào Thái Tôn, ThÖ HÒ Xuân HÜÖng tØ c¶i nguÒn vào
th‰ tøc ¾ Hà N¶i: Nhà xuÃt bän Giáo Døc, 1996) Through a hundred
years being conveyed by word of mouth HÒ
Xuân HÜÖng’s poetry, of course, is now slightly different from text to
text; put aside many other authors’ poems are attributed to HÒ Xuân HÜÖng, which leads to scholarly
arguments over the authenticity, resulting in the event that some poems are
collected in one collection but omitted in the others. When the poetess’
biography is still open to dispute,
the most agreeable facts among researchers are: HÒ
Xuân HÜÖng is the daughter of HÒ
Sï Danh (1706-1783) of Quÿnh ñôi village NghŒ
An Province,
her poems were written in Nôm
Script during the period from the end of 18th century to the
beginning of the 19th, she either married a Mr. Vïnh TÜ©ng or TrÀn
Phúc Hi‹n. But in all cases,
she was once a secondary wife. Old texts used the word “concubine” for
“secondary wife”, but this synonym of “secondary wife”, inflecting complex
meanings, has been marked obsolete in many dictionaries. Different meanings
of “concubine” contradict each other, which leads to the unsteadiness of the
word, even in its own time: concubine is a woman who cohabits with a man she
is not married to, a kept mistress, and¾ concubine is a lawful wife. In the old
custom, one Vietnamese man might be legally allowed to marry several wives,
and the wives besides his first wife are called secondary wives. Using
“concubine” for “secondary wife” is considered not correct for now-a-day
common English usage. HÒ Xuân HÜÖng was well educated, and had literary
relationship with a number of well-known poets and writers in her time.
Living in Confucian tradition and in a feudal system where teachings and laws
were abused, where the poor as well as women were merely small parts of the
social machine without social benefits, she was the only woman heroically
marching through history with her witty poems. She knew Chinese characters,
of course; but chose Nôm to
write her “poems of realities” (opposite to dreams, fictions, theories etc…).
She raised her voice for her own right¾ to live her life as a
Man’s, unveiled the then frail, gullible society framed in vicious Confucian
morality which fortified a few privileged, and attacked the hypocrisy, which
many decades later Walt Whitman of America attempted in his Leaves of Grass.
[Quote: “… but the New World needs poems of realities and science and of the
democratic average and basic quality, which shall be greater. In the centre
of all, and object of all, stands the Human Being, …” (David McKay 1900.
Leaves of Grass with Autobiography Whitman. A backwards glance o’er travel’d
roads, page 552)]. Most of her poems have two possible
meanings, and most of her poems aim at “teaching a lesson” or mocking,
through her art ‘nói lái’ (spoonerism) implying sex. Folk verse and folklore
that deal in double meanings for “teaching a lesson” and amusing or mocking
purpose appeared early in Vietnamese culture. Also it did in the Western
fables; take Æsopic Fables, as example. [Quote: “In these allegorical tales,
the form of the old animistic story is used without any belief in the
identity of the personalities of men and animals, but with a conscious double
meaning and for the purpose of teaching a lesson”. (The Harvard Classics,
Folk-lore and Fable, Volume 17, page 2. New York: The Collier Press, 1909)].
In Vietnamese literature, ‘nói lái’ or ‘spoonerism’ implying sexual meaning
for mocking purpose not only appeared in HÒ Xuân
HÜÖng’s poetry, but also in folk
verse and in other authors’ poems. Take Thû
Thiêm’s wedding congratulation ‘miêu bÃt t†a’,
as example. (Following NguyÍn Væn B°n, 1983. Væn NghŒ Dân Gian; ViŒt
Nam: Sª væn hóa thông tin Quäng Nam-ñà N£ng. Volume 1, page 468). Thus, it would be too far wide of the mark to
consider her poetry, with “spoonerism” in it, to be merely a kind of poetry
for lust, or strong sexual desires. Although some of her poems ably
demonstrates her individual longings, her ranging thirst for love, it’s
obvious that she need not use “spoonerism” or poems with double meaning for
these purposes, when the common thirst for true love appears clearly in the
poems ‘T¿ Tình’, ‘LÃy chÒng chung’,
‘Chi‰c bách’, ‘T¿ tình thÖ’, and many more. What
fascinates the reader is that her “spoonerism” and her poems with a double
meaning are used to attack¾ feudalism, inefficient male
authority, ‘ignorant’ intellects, people of religious society: false monks or
nuns, fool creatures, zany characters, the egocentric opposite sex struggling
for mastery woman. For men she loves and distrusts or disgusts at the same
time, the message of her ‘nói lái’ or her double meaning poems is: “I know
you well. I know how “this” means to you”. (The scornful message of her time,
which is two hundred years ago, turns out to be, alas, the complicity of the
21st century fashionable Western sexuality).
For falsehood, she is a destroyer. In short, for what causing life
lifeless she is a mortician.
HÒ Xuân HÜÖng, ‘The Queen of Nom
Poetry’, is now acclaimed as one of the most distinguished poets in
Vietnamese literature. Her poems were translated into many foreign languages,
including a collection translated into Russian by G. Iaroxlapxep, selected
and introduced to Russian readers by N. I. Niculin, which was published in
Russia in 1968 (following ñào
Thái Tôn, thÖ HÒ Xuân HÜÖng tØ c¶i nguÒn vào th‰ tøc, Vietnam: Nhà xuÃt bän
Giáo Døc,
1996, page 97). There is a fair amount of her poems translated into English
in John Balaban’s “Sping Essence: The Poetry of HÒ Xuân HÜÖng”, which was introduced to American
readers.
“Spring Essence: The Poetry of HÒ
Xuân HÜÖng”
gains a very warm welcome: more or less 20.000 copies have been sold since
the first edition was published in 2000 by Copper Canyon Press, which showed
that Professor John Balaban’s work has proved popular in US literary
communities, and in some US universities as well. The literary community is
privileged to have HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s
poetry translated into one of the most powerful international language, by a
Western established and well-known poet, author, translator, and educator.
There was a great expectation: with years of studying, researching, and
seeking help from Vietnamese scholars inland and abroad, the translator had
been preparing for a fine, accurate translation version of HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s poetry. The help,
atlas, is counterproductive. The danger for a
translator is grappling with a foreign language he doesn’t master, when the
meaning of words, or the meaning of those words in different sentence
structures has a tendency to lead him to an unpredictable delirium battle, in
which he may get lost. The playfulness of words in any language always, of
course, challenges a translator. John Balaban’s
disadvantage of using Vietnamese shows in his trying to assure the reader of
his acquaintance with the language, in the introduction, by literally
translating the poem Spring-Watching Pavilion as did NguyÍn-Væn-Vïnh (1882-1936) when this writer translated Kim-Vân-KiŠu by NguyÍn-Du (1765-1820) into French. Following are
four lines from NguyÍn-Væn-Vïnh’s literal translation given along the
translation version of Kim Vân KiŠu, taken as an example: ‘Træm næm trong cõi ngÜ©i ta ‘Ch» tài ch» mŒnh khéo là ghét nhau ‘Träi qua m¶t cu¶c b‹ dâu ‘Nh»ng ÇiŠu trông thÃy mà Çau ǧn lòng’ Træm (cent) næm
(annés) trong (dans) cõi (limite) ngÜ©i (humanité) ta (nôtre) Ch»
(caractère) tài
(talent) ch»
(caractère) mŒnh
(sort, destinée) khéo (habile) là
(être) ghét (haïr) nhau (ensemble, réciproquement). Träi (traverser) qua (à travers) m¶t
(un) cu¶c (spectacle, ensemble de faits qui s’enchainent) b‹
(mers) dâu
(mûriers) Nh»ng
(les) ÇiŠu
(choses) trông (regarder) thÃy
(voir) mà (produire effet) Çau
ǧn (douleurs) lòng (cœur). Cent annés, dans cette limite de notre vie
humaine, Ce qu’on désigne par le mot talent et ce
qu’on désigne par le mot destinée, combien ces deux choses se montrent
habiles à se haïr, à s’exclure; Ayant traversé une période que les poètes
appellent le temps mis par les mers à se transformer en champs de mûriers et,
réciproquement, les champs de mûriers en mers. Les choses que j’ai vues m’on fait
souffrir (ont endolori mon cœur). (NguyÍn Væn Vïnh, [No date given]. Kim Vân KiŠu, traduction en français. Republished by Khai Trí, Saigon 1970) Literal translation
means to give exactly the same meaning as the original meaning of a word. Yet
while using literal translation to give readers the sureness, John Balaban
still mistakes the meaning of many words when he understands ‘êm ái’ as “peaceful”, ‘t§i’= “go”, ‘chiêu
m¶’= “watch”, ‘gÀm’= “toll”, ‘dÍ’= “easy”, ‘ân’= “love”, ‘khÖi vÖi’= “all over”, ‘nào’= “where”. (see John Balaban’s literal translation of ñài khán xuân,
“Spring-Watching Pavilion”, Spring Essence, page 10). [Note: A literal
translation of ‘êm
ái’ would
be “gentle”, ‘t§i’=arrive, ‘chiêu m¶’= early morning and late evening, ‘gÀm’= to roar, ‘dÍ’= easy, not ‘easy’ (in this poem ‘not
easy’), ‘ân’= ‘grace’, ‘khÖi vÖi’= ‘hollow out’, ‘nào’= ‘well’ (exclamation, used to introduce following saying)]. Not understanding
the meaning of words leads to “not understanding the original” and, of
course, to unfair translation, lest to say bad translation, which makes it
impossible for the original to be introduced to the audience. Together with “not
understanding the original” (1), the following causes fail at least 2/3 of
the translation version Spring Essence: (2)
not showing HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s maliciousness (3)
not showing HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s superiority in her commentary and her sharp tone of voice (4)
losing the double meaning unnecessarily. What is more, when mistakes make the
reader unable to access the original, the translator also misguides them by: (5)
overplaying the sexual meaning of word (6)
perceiving something to be true when it is not.. This writing is not an
unfavorable criticism on “Spring Essence: The Poetry of HÒ Xuân HÜÖng”¾ unfavorable criticism is easy to be written, when the art of
translation is a great challenge to a translator, and when every literary
attempt has a reputation of quality of its own. I only wish to point out
mistakes that cause the translation to fail, and to point out the lack of
particularity in the judgment the translator passes on the author which gives
cause for concern. I will go through six points given above, and give the
real meaning of the original lines¾ not by any means it’s the translation of
the lines ¾ in square brackets [..]. Besides, I will quote HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s poems either from Vietnamese textbooks or collections. Whenever
there is a significant difference between the poems published in Vietnamese
textbooks or collections and the poems published in Spring Essence it will be
noted. 1)
NOT
UNDERSTANDING THE ORIGINAL Suffice it to say, John
Balaban isn’t able to read understandingly the original, which results in the
impossibility of a successful translation, and the impossibility of a
faithful rendering of HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s poetry into English as well, when in a
short literal translation he demonstrates numerous errors. These demonstrable
errors suggest more errors in the following pages of the book, and I’m not
surprised to read a number of lines in the English version that did not
translate well to the art of translation. I will not, however, collect every
error contained in Spring Essence, though I’m thorough to observe, and will
put aside small features of things. Take, as examples, ‘say låi tÌnh’(now
drunk now awake) is translated
as “addled but alert” (Spring Essence, page 25), ‘khe’(brook)
translated as “pond” (Spring, Essence, page 86), ‘túi càn khôn’(the
bag contains Heaven and Earth) translated
as “earth’s bag” (Spring Essence, page27), ‘chày kình’(a heavy stick
made of wood and shaped into a whale, used for hitting the bell in Buddhist
temples) translated as “the
temple drum” (Spring Essence, page 81), ‘tang mít’(the temple drum) translated as “the gong” (Spring Essence,
page 81), and many more. These errors, and the likes, though betray an
unfaithful rendition, hurt not much the original. Also, I will not, as the
length of this writing will not allow, go through every translation line in
which there is ‘cut’ or ‘change’, i.e. omitting word(s) from the original
text or adding new word(s) to it as the translator obviously wants to avoid
the language barrier he cannot go through, or wishes to meddle with the
meaning of the original he cannot render in his translation. Take, line 1 and
line 8 in “Confession (I)” page 21, line 7 and 8 in Confession (III) page 31,
lines 4, 6, 7 in “Quán sÙ
Pagoda” page 81, and many of
the like in another poems. Following are just few
examples: Example (1a) Autumn Landscape (Spring Essence, page 19) HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s Cänh thu: “Thánh thót tàu tiêu mÃy gi†t mÜa “Khen ai khéo vÈ cänh tiêu sÖ “Xanh om c° thø tròn xoe tán “Tr¡ng xóa tràng giang ph£ng l¥ng t© “BÀu dÓc giang sÖn say chÃp rÜ®u ‘Túi
lÜng phong nguyŒt n¥ng vì thÖ “÷ hay, cänh cÛng Üa ngÜ©i nhÌ, “Ai thÃy, ai mà ch£ng ngÄn ngÖ.” (NguyÍn Væn Hanh [No date given]. HÒ Xuân HÜÖng -
tác phÄm, thân th‰ và væn tài, page
93) We see here¾ in this
poem, the landscape. It’s not only a desolate landscape, but also the real
Self of Nature, in the absence of any kind of dream or fiction. A revived
brand new landscape, after rain¾ it seems. Few last drips of rain tapping against
the banana leaves, the old trees, the long river. And it’s life. It suggests
the landscape’s sensibilities, and in the sensibilities of the landscape it’s
enchanting to see how Nature is sensitive to Man. The enchantment of Nature
turns up, not because of the poet’s muse but life, real and whole. And that
life the poet is possessed of¾ the wind and the moon in her bag, rivers
and mountains in her gourd. She is actually living, enjoying the joy and the
freedom of a living creature in a living Nature. Feeling this sense of
freedom, freedom to live, freedom to love, which is the main theme of the
poem, is really seeing the author as she works out the central concept
through her attack against society afterwards. For HÒ Xuân HÜÖng freedom is Life. There is no Life if there
is no freedom. This freedom Man possesses; but, at the same time, it has been
taken away by Man. Like the poet’s gourd
(dry shell of the gourd, bottle-shaped, used for holding wine) containing
rivers and mountains, her bag contains no impedimenta, but some books, pens,
and the likes¾ her leisured life-style, more moon and
wind than anything else (fig.). ‘Túi
lÜng phong nguyŒt’ means she carries the bag almost full (‘lÜng’)
of moon and wind. ‘Túi
lÜng’ is “the bag’s
almost full (of somthing)”, not the “backpack” (a pack carried on one’s
back). John Balaban’s “My backpack, breathing moonlight, sags with poems”
(Spring Essence, page 19), is not the translation of ‘túi
lÜng phong nguyŒt n¥ng vì thÖ’. In Spring Essence we can see many translation
lines of this sort, with “cut” and “change”, and “meddling”. Line 7 and line
8 in the original imply the communication between Man and Nature. The
translation of line 7 is hopelessly inefficient at conveying the right
meaning. What is more, the key word of the poem ‘ngÄn ngÖ’
at the end of the last line,
an immutable word, which evokes and prolongs the soul of the poem, is
imperfectly translated. “Stunned”, if not a wrongly selected adjective for ‘ngÄn ngÖ’ in line 7, it’s only aptly for the translator’s imagination as the
above actual landscape suggests a sexual landscape. Somewhere, he says: “her
landscapes are seldom innocent” (Spring Essence, pages 11-12). With his
imagination of a sexual landscape, and with “stunned” and its sound, the
translator puts a full stop at the end of the poem. There is no more echo.
The communication is dead. “Look, and love everyone. “Whoever sees this landscape is stunned.” (Spring Essence, Autumn landscape, page
19) Line 7 in literal
translation: ‘Ô
hay’(exclamation used to
express surprise)= ‘Oh’; ‘cänh’= ‘landscape’; ‘cÛng’= ‘also’; ‘Üa’= ‘to love, to be fond of’;
‘ngÜ©i’=‘Man’. In line 8: ‘ngÄn
ngÖ’=perplex, indecisive,
dreamy. Line 7 means the landscape is
sensitive to Man. Example (1b) “Confession (III)” (Spring Essence, page 31) HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s Chi‰c bách: “Chi‰c bách buÒn vŠ phÆn n°i nênh “Gi»a giòng ngao ngán n‡i lênh Çênh. “LÜng khoan tình nghïa dÜ©ng lai láng, “Nºa mån phong ba luÓng bÆp bŠnh. “Chèo lái m¥c ai læm Ç° b‰n, “Giong lèo thây kÈ r¡p xuôi ghŠnh. “ƒy ai thæm ván cam lòng vÆy, “Ngán n‡i ôm Çàn nh»ng tÃp tênh.” (NguyÍn
Væn Hanh [No
date given]. HÒ Xuân HÜÖng - tác phÄm,
thân th‰ và væn tài, page
126) The poem is about a widow
who wants to imitate Princess Cung-Khuong refusing to remarry. But fate may
not let her doing so. Line 3 implies her love still remains with her late
husband, but (line 4) life storms (fig.) keeps pushing her (the boat)
drifting and unsafe (line 7, and 8). ‘Thæm ván’ in line 7 is a metaphor for ‘to take a new
wife’; ‘ôm Çàn’ in line 8 is a metaphor for ‘to take a
husband’. ‘Ai’ in line 7 is not
‘who’, or ‘whoever’. It is a pronoun used in an expression in which the
subject is left to be understood, referring to a person the speaker wants to
mention, it may be ‘you’, or ‘he’, or even the speaker himself. The common
phrase ‘ai bi‰t Çâu ÇÃy’
doesn’t mean ‘who knows’ or
‘whoever knows’; it means ‘I don’t know’. Thus, ‘ai’ in line 7 implies ‘the
man who wants to marry her’ (who should ‘cam lòng’ / content himself with her decision not
to remarry ‘vÆy’/ instead). ‘VÆy’
in this line by no means echoes ‘ª vÆy’ or ‘never to remarry’ as the translator
remarks in the endnote to the poem (page 119). Not understanding ‘Thæm ván’ and ‘ôm Çàn’ in lines 7 and 8, John Balaban confuses the reader by conveying a
meaning that contradicts the meaning of the whole poem: “Whoever comes on board is pleased “as she plucks her guitar, sad and
drifting.” (Spring Essence, Confession (III), page
31) Example (1c) The Floating cake (Spring Essence, page 33) HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s Bánh trôi nܧc: “Thân em vØa tr¡ng låi vØa tròn “Bäy n°i ba chìm v§i nܧc non “To nhÕ m¥c dù tay kÈ n¥n “Mà em vÅn gi» tÃm lòng son.” (NguyÍn
Væn Hanh [No date given]. HÒ Xuân HÜÖng - tác phÄm, thân th‰ và væn tài, page 84) Note: Line 1 and 2 in Spring Essence: “Thân
em thì tr¡ng, phÆn em tròn “Bäy
n°i ba chìm mÃy nܧc non.” (page 32). This poem is about the
“floating cake”. But it also implies the woman’s fate. In the line 2, ‘mÃy’ is ‘with’, ‘nܧc non’ is ‘rivers and mountains’, means ‘nation’.
‘Nܧc non’ has a double meaning: ‘nܧc
non’=‘nation’, and ‘nܧc non’=‘water’ (‘non’ in the latter is only a parenthetic word which is added to ‘nܧc’
and is assigned no meaning).
The first meaning of ‘bäy
n°i ba chìm v§i nܧc non’
is that the cake is rising
and sinking in the water. The second meaning implies the woman’s fate being
shaped, controlled by her society, or implies a person’s fate, which depends
completely on his nation, is ill fated like his nation’s. Without
understanding the line, especially the word ‘mÃy’= with (‘v§i’), the translator suggests a translation unexpectedly incorrect for
line 2: “rising and
sinking like mountains in streams.”
(Spring Essence, page 33, line 2). Example (1d) “Tavern by a Mountain Stream”
(Spring Essence, page 41) HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s Quán nܧc bên ÇÜ©ng: “ñÙng tréo trông theo cänh h¡t heo “ñÜ©ng Çi thiên thËo, quán cheo leo. “L®p lŠu, mái cÕ tranh xÖ xác, “XÕ kë, kèo tre ÇÓt kh£ng kheo “Ba tråc cây xanh hình uÓn éo “M¶t giòng nܧc bi‰c cÕ leo teo “Thú vui quên cä niŠm lo cÛ “Kìa cái diŠu ai thä l¶n lèo.” (NguyÍn
Væn Hanh [No
date given]. HÒ Xuân HÜÖng - tác phÄm,
thân th‰ và væn tài, page
108) The poem is titled ‘Quán nܧc bên ÇÜ©ng’,
‘Quán khách’,
or ‘Quán khánh’ in different collections. In Spring Essence, ‘VÎnh hàng ª Thanh’ (page 40). Whichever title is selected,
the poem is about a small, simple hut which serves as a tea shop by the
roadside. Line 3 and line 4
describe the small hut: covering the hut is the tattered grass roof; its
short drafters are pieces of skeletal bamboo with one end inserted into a
gap. Line 5 and line 6 describe the landscape about the hut: green trees with
its wriggling branches, the stream of blue water with sparse grass in it. (Literal translation of
words in line 4: ‘xÕ’ = insert, ‘kë’= ‘gap’,
‘xÕ kë’=
to insert (something) into a gap, ‘kèo
tre=‘short bamboo
drafter’, ‘ÇÓt
kh£ng khiu’= skeletal section). Put aside cut and
change in line 1¾ ‘ÇÙng chéo’
turns into another word in
the translation: ‘leaning out, and ‘cänh h¡t hiu’
into ‘the valley’, the lines 3, 4, 5, and 6 above-mentioned are not correctly
translated. In fact, the translator meddles with these original lines,
depicting a quite different picture: “thatch roof
tattered and decayed. “Bamboo poles on
gnarled pilings “bridge the green stream uncurling “little tufts in
the wavering current.” (Spring Essence, Tavern by a Mountain
Stream, page 41) Example (1e) “On a Portrait of Two Beauties”
(Spring Essence, page 51) Line 3, 4 in HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s Tranh hai tÓ n»: “ñôi lÙa nhÜ in t© giÃy tr¡ng “Nghìn næm còn mãi cái xuân
xanh.” (NguyÍn
Væn Hanh [No
date given]. HÒ Xuân HÜÖng - tác phÄm,
thân th‰ và væn tài, page
121) Line 3 in Spring Essence: “Træm
vÈ nhÜ in t© giÃy tr¡ng.” (Spring Essence, page 50). [Hundred looks of beauty seems to be
printed on the white paper. Their spring youth will stay for thousands of
year.] ‘Træm vÈ’ = “Hundred looks (of beauty)” Mistake is made in
line 3. The translator fails to understand the meaning of ‘træm vÈ’, and suggests a reading for line 3 and line 4 which exhibits both
the obscurity and the weakness of the translation: “In 100 years,
smooth as two sheets of paper. “In 1,000, they still will glow like
springtime.” (Spring Essence, page 51, lines 3 and 4) Example (1f) “The Unwed Mother” (Spring Essence,
page 53) Line 3, 4, 5, and 6 in HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s Chºa Hoang: “Duyên thiên chÜa thÃy nhô ÇÀu d†c “PhÆn liÍu sao Çà nÄy nét ngang “Cái t¶i træm næm chàng chÎu gánh “Ch» tình m¶t khÓi thi‰p xin mang.” (Quÿnh
CÜ Væn Lang NguyÍn Anh, 1998. Danh Nhân ñÃt ViŒt,
Volume 3, pages 337,338). Line 5 in Spring Essence: “Cái t¶i træm næm chàng chÎu cä.” (Spring Essence, page
52) The meaning of lines 3,
4, 5, and 6: [Having no husband, yet I’m pregnant. You are guilty of the sin
of what you had done (the sin against conjugality), but I’m to bear our love
burden.] Line 5 and line 6 are translated as: “He will carry it a hundred years “but I must bear the burden now.” (Spring Essence, page 53, line 5-6) The translation of line
5 fails to convey the meaning from the original. ‘Træm næm’ in ‘cái t¶i træm næm chàng chÎu cä’,
standing after the noun ‘cái
t¶i’, is used as a
metaphor to mean ‘suÓt
cä Ç©i ngÜ©i (nói vŠ tình nghïa v® chÒng)’--‘the whole of a lifetime (of relationship between husband and
wife). [T¿ Çi‹n ti‰ng ViŒt/
Vietnamese dictionary by Hoàng
Phê, 8th
edition, VN: ñà N¤ng
Publisher 2000, page 1026].
Besides, the meaninglessness of the translation of line 5 obstructs the
reader, and ‘ch»
tình’ not translated
causes the translation of line 6 to be flat and simple. Example (1g) “Girl without a Sex” (Spring
Essence, page 59) Line 1, 2, 3, and 4
in HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s VÎnh n» vô âm: “MÜ©i hai bà mø ghét chi nhau “ñem cái xuân tình vÙt bÕ Çâu “Rúc rích thây cha con chu¶t nh¡t “Vo ve m¥c mË cái ong bÀu.” (ñào Thái Tôn 1996, 209. ThÖ HÒ Xuân hÜÖng tØ c¶I nguÒn vào th‰ tøc.
Hà N¶i: Nhà xuÃt bän Giáo Døc,) ‘Thây cha’ or
‘m¥c mË’
means ‘not caring about / who care/ doesn’t care’. Thus, ‘rúc rích thây cha con chu¶t nh¡c’
and ‘vo ve m¥c mË cái ong bÀu’ means
‘doesn’t care about the mouse squeaking’ and ‘doesn’t care about the
bumblebee buzzing’. John Balaban mangles the original when he understands ‘thây cha con chu¶t nh¡c’ and ‘m¥c
mË cái ong bÀu’ as “the
little father mouse”, and “the mother honeybee”, and lines 3 and 4 are
translated as: “The little father mouse squeaking about,
doesn’t care, “nor the mother honeybee buzzing along,
fat with pollen.”
(Spring Essence. Page 59, lines 3,4) Example (1h) “Buddhist Nun” (Spring Essence page
83) Line 1 and 2 in HÒ Xuân HÜÖng’s VÎnh ni sÜ: “XuÃt th‰ hÒng nhan k‹ cÛng nhiŠu “L¶n vòng phu phø mÃy là kiêu.” (Spring
Essence, page 82)
are translated as: “Many pink-cheeked girls abandon the
world. “Many vain spouses break their marriage
vows.” (Spring Essence. Page 83, lines 1 and 2) ‘L¶n vòng phu phø’ doesn’t in any sense mean “break their marriage vows”. It means to
try living without relationship between a woman and a man as husband and
wife. But, this definition may lead to opposite meaning in now-a-day mass
culture where a man and a woman can still have sex without marriage
relationship. In the old times, when sex outside marriage was strongly
considered a sin in Vietnamese culture, living without relationship between a
man and a woman as husband and wife meant trying to break way from the way of
life¾ refusing to marry and have sex. Thus, ‘l¶n vòng phu phø mÃy là kiêu’ means ‘But living without conjugal relationship they are unusually
able women’. ‘L¶n
vòng phu phø’ once
appeared in CUNG OÁN NGâM KHÚC by Ôn-NhÜ HÀu NguyÍn Gia ThiŠu (1741-1798). |