The hands of a Chinese construction worker who left home aged 12 to support his family
Yongfu Lament 永福路换歌
举起皴裂如砂纸般的双手，
I raise these hands chapped into sandpaper,
昏暗的灯光下我试图读懂掌心的纹路，
Under the dim light I'll try to read the lines across the palms,
明白他们告诉我缘何我已抵达这里，
Knowing they tell me how I came here,
这跋涉如何赋予一个男人梦想，
How does this toil give a man dreams,
又或是给了我自己。
Or perhaps give me myself.
但是不久我就厌倦了，
But soon I'll tire of this,
不久我就搓着双手，
Soon I'll just wring my hands together,
拼命有把粗糙搓着，
Desperately using the coarseness to slough themselves away,
忘掉那些纵横交错的线路。
Forget those crisscrossing interwoven lines.
仿佛这样能把自己带回家，
As if this could take me back home,
但却只是暖和了点儿罢了。
But it only warms me a little.
One text we had to translate in class claimed that China's development is built on the back of China's migrant workers, who are called 'peasant workers' in mandarin, and this poem is no doubt from their experience. Their numbers are estimated at 274 million, and they are treated as second class citizens in the cities they migrate to work in thanks to the Hukou system. This system identifies migrant workers as belonging to rural areas, therefore they are denied many social benefits when the enter cities. Children of migrant workers who accompany their parents to cities are not allowed into the state owned schools.
He used to paint the Four Beauties of China
the Red Guard said they were poisonous weeds,
corrupting the people,
among the raging flames burned his poetry, brush, ink,
paintings, consuming the nation's
backbone.
This poem was from an anthology of modern Chinese poetry sitting in a Coffee shop in Qingdao. It just so happened to be the fourth of June, anniversary of the Tiananmen Square protests. Reading the poem "The Artist", it reminded me of the healing powers of art.
I was well aware of the world's spotlight gazing on China over the anniversary date, most international news sites carried some historical summary and a report on the vigil held in Hong Kong. But the majority Chinese themselves didn't notice. The day passes like any other. It's almost as if the Tiananmen massacre has come to mean more to the outside world than it does to China, where there is only a vacuum of information about the event.
Words thrown into the vacuum this year included 'big yellow duck' (after the famous image of tankman was altered so he faced down three giant yellow ducks), 'black shirt' (as mainland Chinese marking the date surreptitiously wear black) and '6 4'(short for June 4th).
History, no matter how ugly, leaves an indelible mark upon the face of a nation. The CCP have put a plaster over the top of Tiananmen and hope that everyone will forget it was put there. I hope one day it will be possible to fill this void with poetry, film and art. Art can help people reconcile with the Tiananmen massacre on their own terms and begin the healing process as a nation. One day Tiananmen might be looked upon as a lesson never to be repeated, rather than an unsightly stain to be swept under the carpet.
As I am well past the halfway mark of my year in China I have spent a lot of time thinking about my friends and family back home in England. So, I present a collection of my own translations of Chinese poetry from across the ages focusing on the theme of missing home.
Living by Jiande River 宿建德江
Meng Hao Ran 孟浩然 680-740
移舟泊烟渚，Yí zhōu pō yān zhǔ
Mooring the boat on a misty bank,
日暮客愁新。Rìmù kè chóu xīn
In the dusk, the traveller dwells anew on his old home.
野旷天低树，Yě kuàng tiān dī shù
The wilderness is vast, the sky hangs below the trees,
江清月近人。Jiāng qīng yuè jìn rén
The river’s water is so clear, I can touch the moon.
Miscellaneous Poem: You have come from my hometown 杂诗·君自故乡来
Wang Wei 王维 699-759 (other sources say 701-761)
君自故乡来，Jūn zì gùxiāng lái
Since you have come from my old hometown,
应知故乡事。Yīng zhī gùxiāng shì
You should know what is happening there.
来日绮窗前，Lái rì qǐ chuāng qián
On the day you came, passing by my silken window,
寒梅著花未？Hánméizhe huā wèi?
Had the winter plum began to blossom?
9th of the 9th month, thinking of my brothers in the East Mountains 九月九日忆山东兄弟
Wang Wei 王维
独在异乡为异客，Dú zài yìxiāng wèi yì kè
Alone, I am a stranger in a strange land,
每逢佳节倍思亲。 Měi féng jiājié bèi sī qīn
Jia festival comes round again, and I think of my family.
遥知兄弟登高处， Yáo zhī xiōngdì dēnggāo chù
From afar, I know my brothers ascend some high place,
遍插茱萸少一人。Biàn chā zhūyú shǎo yīrén
Casting sticks in prayer, they are missing one person.
Homesick 乡愁
Guangzhong Yu 余光中 (1928-present)
小时候 Xiǎoshíhou
When I was young,
乡愁是一枚小小的邮票 Xiāngchóu shì yī méi xiǎo xiǎo de yóupiào
My longing for home was as small as a stamp,
我在这头 Wǒ zài zhè tóu
I was at one end,
母亲在那头 Mǔqīn zài nà tóu
My mother at the other.
长大后 Zhǎng dà hòu
As I grew,
乡愁是一张窄窄的船票 Xiāngchóu shì yī zhāng zhǎi zhǎi de chuán piào
My longing for home was as thin as a ship’s ticket,
我在这头 Wǒ zài zhè tóu
I was at one end,
新娘在那头 Xīnniáng zài nà tóu
My bride at the other.
后来啊 Hòulái a
Later in life,
乡愁是一方矮矮的坟墓 Xiāngchóu shì yīfāng ǎi ǎi de fénmù
My longing for home was as shallow as a grave,
我在外头 Wǒ zài wàitou
With me on the outside,
母亲在里头 Mǔqīn zài lǐtou
My mother inside.
而现在 Ér xiànzài
And now,
乡愁是一湾湝的海峡 Xiāngchóu shì yī wān jiē dì hǎixiá
My longing for home is as wide as the Taiwan Straits,
I'll concede Mandarin probably wasn't the first language to pop into your head after reading the title, but for the Chinese, love songs and love poetry go back as far as literature itself. The Classic of Poetry (also known as the Book of Songs, Book of Odes, etc) is the earliest collection of Chinese poems and songs dating from the 10th to 7th century BC. Over half of the 305 poems are categorised as 'Airs of the States', thought to be ancient folk songs. These 'Airs' were shorter and simpler in their composition than the other eulogies and court hymns, but documented the views and everyday lives of the ordinary public. Needless to say love, longing, and courtship were inevitable subject matter for the common people. I'm going to try my hand at translating something more recent than the Classic of Poetry, but I hope I fully convey the depth and feeling of Chinese love poetry.
With St. Valentine's Day just around the corner, it's an opportune moment to share some of my favourite mandarin love songs with my own translations. My apologies that so many of them run on a theme of unrequited-ness. I assure you it's all coincidence.
Only for Love 我用所有报答爱 - 张靓颖 Jane Zhang (from The Banquet)
只為一支歌, 血染紅寂寞。 只為一場夢, 摔碎了山河
For only a song, blood stained my loneliness red. For only a dream, I have shattered the whole country
只為一顆心, 愛到分離才相遇. 只為一滴淚, 模糊了恩仇
For only a heart, I parted with love but reunited too late. For only a tear drop, I confused my friends with my enemies.
我用所有 報答愛, 你卻不 不回來
I use all that I have to repay your love, but you still will not come back to me.
歲月 從此一刀兩段. 永不見 風雨 風雨 風雨
From now the moon is sliced in two, I will never again see the wind and rain, wind and rain, wind and rain.
Painted Heart 画心 - 张靓 Jane Zhang (from Painted Skin)
看不穿 是你失落的魂魄, 猜不透 是你瞳孔的颜色.
I cannot see through to your lost soul, I cannot guess the colour of your eyes.
一阵风 一场梦 爱如生命般莫测
A gust of wind, a dream, a love as unpredictable as life itself
你的心到底被什么蛊惑
Your heart, what has bewitched it so?
你的轮廓在黑夜之中淹没, 看桃花开出怎样的结果
Your silhouette disappears into the night, I watch the last of the peach blossoms open,
看着你抱着我 目光似月色寂寞, 就让你在别人怀里快乐
I watch you, holding me, your gaze as lonely as moonlight, so I let you find happiness in someone else’s arms.
爱着你 像心跳难触摸. 画着你 画不出你的骨骼.
Loving you, as untouchable as a heartbeat. Drawing you, I cannot draw your skeleton.
记着你的脸色 是我等你的执着, 你是我一首唱不完的歌
Remembering your face, determined to wait for you, you are my never ending song.
爱着你 像心跳难触摸. 画着你 画不出你的骨骼.
Loving you, as untouchable as a heartbeat. Drawing you, I cannot draw your skeleton.
记着你的脸色 是我等你的执着, 我的心只愿为你而割舍
Remembering your face, determined to wait for you. My heart hopes only for you, I’ve not given up.
Love at Kangmei 康美之恋 - 谭晶 Jing Tan
一条路 海角天涯. 两颗心 相依相伴.
One road, to the ends of the Earth. Two hearts, lean on one another.
风吹不走誓言, 雨打不湿浪漫.
The wind cannot sweep away a promise, the rain cannot wash away a romance.
意济苍生苦与痛, 情牵天下喜与乐.
Wishing to ease people’s pain, our hearts fill with joy.
一条路 千山万水, 两颗星 无怨无悔.
One road, over mountains and seas. Two stars, without regrets.
风吹不走誓言, 雨打不湿浪漫.
The wind cannot sweep away a promise, the rain cannot wash away a romance.
意济苍生苦与痛, 情牵天下喜与乐.
Wishing to ease people’s pain, our hearts fill with joy.
明月清风相思. 丽日百草也多情
Bright moon, calm breeze, thinking of each other. Beautiful day, fragrant grasses, how many feelings!
两颗心长相伴, 你我写下爱的神话
Two hearts stay together forever, you and I will write a fairy-tale romance.
明月清风相思, 丽日百草也多情
Bright moon, calm breeze, thinking of each other. Beautiful day, fragrant grasses, how many feelings!
康美情长相恋, 你我写下爱的神话
Kangmei’s love lasts forever, you and I will write a fairy-tale romance.
Passing Rain 過雲雨 - 張敬軒 Hins Cheung
天空剛下了幾場雨 看街上無人不多
It has been raining, and I see no one on the streets.
現在的你在做什麼 還有沒有在想我
What are you doing right now? Are you thinking of me?
快樂是否曾來過 探訪我們兩個
Did happiness not call here once, and visit you and I?
誰都不想讓自己錯 剩下了自己一個
Who doesn’t think they have made a mistake, when abandoned all alone?
找到你愛的咖啡店 嘗試去感應著你
I find the coffee shop that you loved, to try to connect with you.
喝一杯低糖的Latte 你還會想嘗一口
I drink a sugarfree latte, do you still want to try a sip?
快樂是否曾來過 探訪我們兩個
Did happiness not call here once, and visit you and I?
誰都不想讓自己錯 剩下了自己一個
Who doesn’t think they have made a mistake, when abandoned all alone?
*春夏秋冬 有多少人會走
Spring, summer, autumn, winter; how many people will leave?
春夏秋冬 有多少人會留
Spring, summer, autumn, winter; how many people will stay?
傳聞你身邊有個他 兩個人很快樂嗎
Rumour says someone else is by your side now, are the two of you happy?
聽說你跟他提起我 是否對我也牽挂
I heard that you mentioned me to him, was it to lead me along?
快樂是否也來過 探訪你們兩個
Did happiness not call here once, and visit the two of you?
誰都不想再讓你哭 剩下你自己一個
Who doesn’t want to cry again, when abandoned all alone?
外面的雨下得太久 我的心感覺冷漠
The rain outside has been falling for too long, my heart feels forgotten,
看到這一場過雲雨 你是否會想起我
I see the storm clouds are passing, do you still think of me?
Wandering Songstress 天涯歌女 - Shanghai Restoration Project's Version
(seen in Street Angel 1937 and Lust|Caution 2007)
天涯呀海角 觅呀觅知音
To the ends of the Earth and edges of the sea; searching, searching for my soulmate.
小妹妹唱歌郎奏琴
A young girl sings, a boy accompanies with a zither.
郎呀咱们俩是一条心
My dearest, our hearts are one.
哎呀哎呀郎呀 咱们俩是一条心
Aiya aiya my young man, our hearts are one.
家山呀北望 泪呀泪满襟
From my mountain home, I gaze North. Tears, tears fall and wet my gown.
小妹妹想郎直到今
I miss him endlessly.
郎呀 患难之交恩爱深
My dearest, love that lasts through hard times is the deepest.
哎呀哎呀 郎呀患难之交恩爱深
Aiya aiya my young man, love that lasts through hard times is the deepest.
人生呀谁不惜呀惜青春
In life, who does not cherish the springtime of youth?
小妹妹似线郎似针
A young girl is the thread, her man is the needle.
郎呀穿在一起不离分
My dearest, once threaded together they are never to part
哎呀哎呀 郎呀穿在一起不离分
Aiya aiya my young man, once threaded together they are never to part.
So we were recently informed that China experienced a wedding boom on the 4th of January, with up to 10,000 couples pledging their troth in Beijing alone. All because of that particular date’s homophony to the phrase ‘I will love you all my life’. Personally I think 二零一三一四 (er ling yi san yi si 2013/1/4) similarity to 爱你一生一世 (ai ni yi sheng yi shi I will love you all my life) is pretty tenuous, but I guess it must be a native speaker thing.
The Chinese, while being highly rational, strongly value the significance of certain numbers over others. Trying to grasp them all might seem a little bit like Numberwang at first, but with a little understanding of the background, all will become clear. The idea behind getting married on 04/01/2013, and 12/12/12, is the hope that the auspicious symbolism of the date will bless their marriage. Many of the older generation will encourage their children to visit fortune-tellers, who, upon analyzing the exact time and date of a couples’ birth, can forecast their compatibility and future together. Such is the power of numbers.
Of course, the nature of the Chinese language has lead to many numbers picking up double meanings from words sharing the same pronunciation. The most common example is ‘8’(bā), whose propitious homophone means ‘wealth’ in Cantonese. On the other end of the scale sits poor number ‘4’ (sì) associated with death (死 sĭ).
Other lucky numbers include ‘6’ (六), because of the phrase 六六大顺 (liu liu da shun), which is an expression used to wish the smooth process of something, to be without hindrance. Therefore it’s not unusual to see car number plates bearing double, or even triple sixes, much to my original dismay at seeing the Number of the Beast. By the same token, if double 6 is a lucky number, simple maths entails that 12 must be as well! Consequently 12/12/12 saw a record number of Chinese weddings, before 04/01/13. In addition (terrible maths pun, please forgive me), there is the fortuitous number 9 (九 jiu). As well as being the largest single digit number, 9 also sounds like 久 (jiu), meaning a long time. With Chinese culture known for venerating the elderly, wishes for a long and healthy life are always welcome. I was told by a teacher that the steps leading up to important buildings are normally grouped in nines. Maybe if we had more lucky numbers more people would be interested in mathematics.
Numbers have also entered Chinese online slang; 520 (五二零 wu er ling) is shorthand for ‘I love you’ (我爱你 wo ai ni), and 94 (九四 jiu si) has come to be a simple phrase signaling agreement, due to its likeness to ‘that’s right’ (就是 jiu shi). Accompanying the growth of English education, numbers such as 88 and 3Q have picked up meaning. 88 (bā bā) sounds like ‘byebye’, and 3Q (san q), I’m sure you can guess by now, stands for ‘thank you’. Also, the Chinese are able to count to 10 using gestures on just one hand, and everyone uses it, which comes in useful when I can't understand particularly strong accents.
That’s enough number crunching from me, 'til next time!
With 2013 fast approaching (or upon us, depending on when you read this), now is the time to reflect on the happenings of the past year and set your resolutions for the year ahead. A time to change.
But, what is it about the changing of the date that makes us think that we can suddenly tackle our entrenched flaws? Some people feel a New Year is a new leaf, that it wipes out the misdeeds of the past and makes it easier to begin again. And everyone around is doing it too; ‘next year I will go to the gym’, ‘next year I will be punctual’, or my own personal foible, ‘next year I will not procrastinate’. And so on and so on.
Such lists are full of aspirations to become the athletic, organised, and efficient self we feel we could be if we ever put in the effort. Yet, I also feel that setting a New Year’s Resolution gives you a few more days to wallow in justified indolence before the clock strikes midnight. It’s okay if you eat that entire left over chocolate cake now, because you’ll totally work it off when your New Year exercise workout begins.
Rare is a person who notices their own shortcomings and decides to change it, right then and there. It’s far easier to say, in the New Year, or next week, or tomorrow. Tomorrow is a wonderful place where everything gets done, and of course, you’re also more toned with brighter complexion and a new willpower to avoid tiramisu.
So before you make your resolutions, if you haven’t already, spare a moment and read this poem by Haizi 海子. A very simplistic poem, it too speaks of wanting to reform oneself, to not overcomplicate things, and to prioritise only what matters in life.
Facing the Sea, with Spring Blossoms
From tomorrow, I will be a happy person.
I will feed the horse, chop the wood, and travel around the world.
From tomorrow, I will care about food and vegetables.
I will have a house facing the sea, and in Spring’s warmth the blossoms will open.
From tomorrow, I will write to every one of my family,
I will tell them I am happy.
As that carefree lightning bolt told me,
I will tell everyone.
I will give every river and every mountain a fond name.
Strangers, I also wish you happiness,
I wish you a glittering future,
I wish you wedded bliss with your sweetheart,
I wish that in this mortal life you obtain happiness.
I only wish to face the sea, where in Spring’s warmth the blossoms will open.
Perhaps the saddest element of this poem is that Haizi two months after penning it, he committed suicide by lying down on train tracks at the age of 25. As with many artists, recognition and fame was only achieved after his death. He is now regarded as one of the most important post cultural revolution poets. As I was given a compilation of Haizi’s prolific poetry for my birthday, one of my resolutions is to translate them for you.
Chinese is viewed as an inaccessible language by most people, as Scandinavia and The World explains:
Source: http://satwcomic.com/it-s-all-greek-to-me
Once you manage to overcome mandarin's tones, measure words, literary references, and tens of thousands of characters that reveal little about their pronunciation, you still have to face the truth that every province speaks a dialect that sounds as different from mandarin as English is to French. Luckily mandarin, called Putonghua (the common speech), can get you around most places well enough and is the standard language of China.
'Please speak Mandarin, then it's easier for all of us'
How do I face the formidable task of tackling this beast of a language? By finding the funnies. Or things that help me remember characters, for example, the word for 'monopolize' is 垄断 (longduan). The first character is 'dragon' on top of 'earth', which makes me think of Smaug, hoarding his piled up treasure. However, it's highly impractical to come up with a mnemonic for every character.
Here's some Chinese you might not even realise you speak. Next time you say the word 'manly', you may be saying 蛮力 (mán lì), which means 'brute force'. Is somebody you know staying up all night partying? Awww yeah, or in fact, 熬夜 (aó yè), which translates as 'to stay up all night'. If O2 is thinking of entering the Chinese market, it may want to consider rebranding itself, as 呕吐 (oŭ tù) means 'to vomit'.
If you've ever listened to Chinese people speaking, you might have thought you heard the infamous, racially exclusive 'N word' repeated several times. What is actually being said is 那个 (nei ge), meaning 'that'. People end up repeating it if they can't remember the name of the thing they are trying to say, the effect being 'nei ge nei ge nei ge'. You know you're learning Chinese properly if you end up saying this and don't feel uncomfortable.
As a student of Chinese, I end up reading scores of articles related to learning Chinese. In most of those articles, the only example people seem to provide to demonstrate tones is 'ma' - 妈 (mother, first tone), 马 (horse, third tone), 麻 (hemp, second tone). But to be honest, these are pretty hard to get confused; mother is always said as a compound 妈妈, and horse should have a measure word, e.g., 一匹马. And 麻 is pretty vague as a stand alone character, lending itself to compounds such as flax, anaesthetic, sesame, and even pins and needles. My personal favourite tonal confusions are 手机 (shŏu jī) and 首级 (shŏu jí), the first being 'mobile phone', and the latter 'severed head'. Another sinister mix-up is 迟到 (chí dào), meaning 'to be late', so imagine your teacher's surprise when you announce "对不起老师，我持刀(chí dāo)了" (I'm sorry, Sir, I'm wielding a knife). My classmate recommends caution when shopping for mirrors, as the reflective surface, 镜子 (jìng zi), may be accidentally spoken as sperm, 精子 (jīng zĭ).
Before I studied it, I tended to believe most of the interesting facts regarding Chinese that circulate around. I was disappointed to learn that many of these are simply misnomers borne from a lack of understanding. Take for example, a fact provided by Lisa Simpson, who claimed, "the Chinese word for 'crisis' is the same as 'opportunity'". It is a nice idea, but a quick trip to the dictionary reveals there is no such word, only two separate words 机会 (jihui opportunity) and 危机 (weiji crisis). My guess is that someone saw both words contain the character 机 and assumed they were the same word. The shared character 机 is a bit of a compound whore, and can be found in anything from 'airport' to 'mechanic' to my humble 'soy milk maker'.
Another thing that bothered me before learning Mandarin was what 'ching chang chong' actually meant. In fact, it's bothered me ever since primary school, when it was used as the standard response to telling someone I was mixed race. Even my sixth-form maths teacher greeted me with this phrase when I told her my degree choice. I could go off on a rant about how East Asian people put up with racism passed off as socially acceptable humour, but instead, I'm going to try to salvage this phrase that non-Chinese speakers seem to think encapsulates the Chinese language. In modern pinyin (today's prevalent form of Chinese romanisation) there is no such word as 'ching', the closest being 'qing'. So, mission 'translate qing chang chong' begins.
情场 (qingchang) affairs of the heart, 情场冲 a rush of affairs of the heart.
清唱 (qingchang) to sing opera, so 清唱虫 the opera singing worm.
清偿 (qingchang) to pay a debt in full, 清偿重 to pay off a debt again.
青长虫 green long worm (where 'long worm' is actually spoken phrase for 'snake'), green snake.
I think this is the best I can come up with without taking too many liberties. Although getting a Chinese person to understand the above phrases would still be difficult; they sound as ridiculous in Chinese as they do in English. Thus proving that 'ching chang chong' is the refrain of the culturally illiterate.
'Stinky' Chang?
And finally, I don't know how many people wondered what Cho Chang, of Harry Potter fame, means. I did. Let's take Chang to be 常, a common Chinese surname, rather than 娼 meaning prostitute. For a country of 1.3 billion people, it has surprisingly few surnames, so much so that the hoi polloi are referred to as 'the old one hundred surnames' (老百姓). So, Chang 常 it is. Leaving us with Cho as her first name, yet another sound that doesn't actually exist in pinyin, so it could be read as 'chou' ('ou' as in 'low'), 'chu' ('u' as in 'soon') or 'qu' ('u' as in... this isn't dipthong used in English, it's like 'ew' but with more 'oo'). It is usual for a Chinese person to have two characters comprising a first name, although there are plenty of famous Chinese with a one character name: Yao Ming, Liu Xiang, Ang Lee.
Chou would be quite an unfortunate name, as it could be any of the following; 仇, 愁, 丑, 臭: enemy, anxiety, hideous, and stinky, respectively. The best of the bunch is definitely 绸, meaning silk. The interpretations rise exponentially when you look up 'chu' and 'qu'. Perhaps the reason why I find Cho's name so distasteful is because it smacks of the 'ching chang chong' factor. That is to say, Rowling created a Chinese character for her books, and created a name that she thought sounded like Chinese, without consideration of traditional naming customs or sounds that actually exist in Chinese. Seeing that Harry Potter has a huge Chinese fan-base, it would be interesting to know what Cho Chang has been translated into, considering that her name is essentially a foreign construct. If I find out, I'll let you know.
