Yiddish and Chinese Poems

Poems Found in Translation: “Abraham Sutzkever: A Voice From The Heart (From Yiddish)” plus 1 more Abraham Sutzkever: A Voice From The Heart (From Yiddish) Posted: 01 Nov 2016 09:34 AM PDT This poem, written just before the Vilnius ghetto was established, is a call to resistance in the face of Nazi persecution. The theme of Jewish revolt is one that would for obvious reasons permeate a good deal of Sutzkever's work from the 40s. There is much about this piece, as a Yiddish poem, as a Jewish poem, that could be said in explication. It takes a quasi-biblical and prophetic tone throughout. Its multi-textured allusions subvert pious tradition and supplant it with ideals of secular Jewish resistance in this world. Even the word גאַנג "way, course, manner of walking" seems loaded in context. I could probably fill several pages with detailed commentary. Maybe sometime I will actually do just that. (Poems like this are why The Modern Yiddish Poem Itself is a book that desperately needs to be written. Presumably by somebody whose knowledge of the language and literature is not so uneven, gap-strewn and idiosyncratic as my own.) Liberties in translation? Yes, I took them, as I often do on days when I have more sense in me. No, that "sword" in line 4 has no precise warrant (so much as generalized inspiration) in the original. I did what seemed to work for the text in English. (I'm still wondering if I ought to have rendered the first line as "The heart's voice said: thou shalt believe...") A Voice From The Heart By Abraham Sutzkever Translated by A.Z. Foreman A voice said from the heart: believe In the already debased word Justice! The lion's heir must heave Against enslavement with the sword.  There is a way. Its destination Is memory's wild primeval wood.  But there's a germ that spreads contagion  Of a millennium in your food.  You'd have your suffering make sense?  Make of yourself the things it tells. Hear as grandfathers waken sons As stormblades in the bronze of bells.  There is a way: rise, stride. Wayfarer! Strike down the stumbling stones and live.  Death will forgive you any error. Slavishness it cannot forgive. - Vilna, July 1941 The Original: אַ שטים פֿון האַרץ אבֿרהם סוצקעווער אַ שטים פֿון האַרץ באַפֿעלט מיר: גלייב אין שוין פֿאַרשוועכטן וואָרט גערעכטשאַפֿט דער ווײַטער יורש פֿון אַ לייב מוז ווידערשפּעניקן זײַן קנעכטשאַפֿט ס׳איז דאָ אַ גאַנג. עס ליגט זײַן ציל אין ווילדן אורוואַלד פֿון זכּרון. ס׳איז אויך פֿאַראַן אַזאַ באַצילֹ, וואָס טראָגט דעם סם פֿון טויזנט יאָרן. און זוכסטו פֿאַר דײַן פּײַן אַ זין–  פֿאַרוואַנדל זיך אין איר אַנטפּלעקער, און הער ווי זיידעס וועקן זין ווי שטורעמהעק אין בראָנדז פֿון גלעקער.  ס׳איז דאָ אַ גאַנג. איז קלעטער, שפרײַז, קויף אויס דעם דורותֿדיקן שטרויכל. דער טויט איז מוחל יעדער גרײַז, נאָר זײַן אַ קנעכט איז ער ניט מוחל. ווילנע, יולי 1941 Li Bai: Airs of Ancientry No.14 "Lament of the Empire's Conscript" (From Chinese) Posted: 01 Nov 2016 09:25 AM PDT Airs of Ancientry No.14 – Lament of the Empire's Conscript    By Lǐ Bái Translated by A.Z. Foreman Click to hear me recite the original in reconstructed 8th century Chang'anese pronunciation The border post　ablast with sand and wind 　Drear and wailing　now from elder days Leaves felled from trees,　grasses yellowed with fall 　I scale the tower　surveil the foe's terrain —   Weed-choked ramparts　derelict in the desert  　Border town　where not a wall remains   Bleachwhite bones 　a thousand frosts have weathered 　Jumbled barrows 　brushwood overtakes  Let me ask　who was the great aggressor?   　Nature's pet tribesmen　moved with violent bane So flamed with rage　our godly Emperor 　Bade his army　bang the drums of war His sunbalmed nature　steamed to murderous air　   　Sent troops to invade　and turmoil through the State Three hundred sixty　thousand men deployed 　Now sorrow and sorrow — and sorrow's tears like rain  Though it grieved us so　we got no choice but go　　 　How can we farm　our fields in these blasted acres   Till you've seen　boys stationed at the border  　Don't think you know　the front line's dreary ache　 General Li Mu 　is with us no more today 　We frontier men are fodder　for what infests these wastes The Original:  古風其十四  李白 胡關饒風沙， 蕭索竟終古。 木落秋草黃， 登高望戎虜。 荒城空大漠， 邊邑無遺堵。 白骨橫千霜， 嵯峨蔽榛莽。 借問誰凌虐， 天驕毒威武。 赫怒我聖皇， 勞師事鼙鼓。 陽和變殺氣， 發卒騷中土。 三十六萬人， 哀哀淚如雨。 且悲就行役， 安得營農圃。 不見征戍兒， 豈知關山苦。 李牧今不在， 邊人飼豺虎。