Crows Crying at Night
Two translations of a poem by Li Bai, with notes
乌夜啼 (李白) 黄云城边乌欲栖 归飞哑哑枝上啼 机中织锦秦川女 碧纱如烟隔窗语 停梭怅然忆远人 独宿孤房泪如雨 Wū Yè Tí (Li Bai) Huáng yún chéng biān wū yù qī Guī fēi yā yā zhī shàng tí Jī zhōng zhī jǐn Qín chuān nǚ Bì shā rú yān gé chuāng yǔ Tíng suō chàng rán yì yuǎn rén Dú sù gū fáng lèi rú yǔ
I. Yellow clouds by the city; crows about to roost. Flying back, they caw, caw, crying on the boughs. At her loom the Qinchuan girl weaves a brocade, And the jade silk is like mist, her voice muted through the window. She stops the shuttle, saddened by the memory of her distant husband; Alone in her room, her tears come down like rain.
II. Golden clouds—crows prepare to roost at the city’s edge Birds return swiftly: caw! caw! all the while above the trees At her loom the Qinchuan woman weaves a brocade The jade silk is like smoke—it conceals her voice As she stops the shuttle, sorrowful, remembering her faraway husband Alone in her room her tears fall like rain
Notes
An incredibly difficult poem. As a disclaimer, I would like to offer my deepest respects to Li Bai—only in Chinese is such a poem possible.
That being said, each translation is only a version of the original. From “yellow” to “golden”, “girl” to “woman”, “mist” to “smoke”, “saddened” to “sorrowful”—these distinctions are only variations on the theme.
It is worth mentioning that in the Chinese, both 纱 (shā/gauze; silk) and 窗 (chuāng/window) are read as making a sort of “conjoined effort” in the muffling, or muting, of the woman’s speech 语 (yǔ). My decision for Tr. II to discard “window” entirely reflects an effort towards simplification; it is not obvious, therefore, that the speaker/reader of the poem is observing the woman’s actions from beyond her room.