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折扇 - The Folding Fan (by Winky诗)
2024-10-10 08:46 pmStill want to share it though, so here we go!
Actually went ahead and translated + did that with the help of @halfcactus ^^
It was a bright and pristine length of Silk,
its white stolen from the Palace Upon the Cold Moon;
and only because It fell in love with the Bamboo Forest Immortal
did Silk and Bamboo elope to the realm of the mortals.
Passing through the bones [1], intertwining, they became a folding fan,
taking paintings of great rivers and mountains, flowers and birds,
displaying each and every one thoroughly.
Come with me as we dive into this wonderful world,
passing on what flowed from his and her brush tips;
who knows which line will be recited and sung through the ages, forevermore?
They’ve seen untold verses from Tang, Song, Yuan and Ming on ardent love and emotion.
They’ve heard untold words of a thousand autumns, heartfelt and gut wrenching.
They’ve been to impoverished places of learning.
They’ve explored palaces of carved jade and gilding.
They’ve dreamt of strong winds and faraway sails, and met guard dogs at closed doors.
They’re lively and elegant in the palm of a hand,
living a borrowed adventure from her on the stage [2].
but passing through this place where the lights are dimming,
they fall for this world all over again. [3]
It takes experiencing joys and sorrows several times over to remember: ‘We're only a fan!’
Taking in the ephemeral events of the past, time like a surging river,
they’re visitors intently observing.
Come with me as we dive into this wonderful world,
passing on what flowed from his and her brush tips;
who knows which line will be recited and sung through the ages, forevermore?
They’ve seen untold verses from Tang, Song, Yuan and Ming on ardent love and emotion.
They’ve heard untold words of a thousand autumns, heartfelt and gut wrenching.
They’ve been to prisons, desolate and chilling.
They’ve explored gardens with spring flowers blooming.
They’ve dreamt of concerns, worries and yearning, and also met with trifles.
Come with me, let us look into this wonderful world,
through the years when he and she were still living.
Who knows how much change has pervaded and what is now different?
They’ve overheard many frivolous words of passion and revelry.
They’ve seen many moving poems spilling emotions the page cannot contain.
They’ve opened and closed a million times in their existence.
They’ve become mottled, a body seal-marked [4] by lifetimes of experiences.
They’ve only been a plaything in idle hands, and yet they know the world, truly.
[1] The sticks of wood in a fan are 骨 bone in Mandarin. When silk is mounted onto these ribs, what is used to fix it in place may be needle and thread, and hence the use of 缠绵 entwined. But also the choice of words 骨 bone and 穿 though, to me, references https://fwoopersongs.tumblr.com/post/669764276208173056
[2] A 青衫 ;it. black/green/blue robe refers to a main woman character's role in Chinese opera. In this line, I imagine an actor on stage with our fan as part of his performance. (This line is a tie-in with another song from the same album which is about growing up, growing old, and being grateful to all the people you were before, in a trench coat of life in an opera troupe.) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TDD3AnPmU7o
[3] The verse that lives rent free in my head, always. ‘Sometimes in the light and glamor, it feels like acting out the lines in a play, unreal. Yet in a dark and lonely place, I found my love for the world again.' Of course, a reference for a poem I enjoyed a lot: https://fwoopersongs.tumblr.com/post/708706191294021632[4] From an traditional Chinese ink painting ancient art exhibition I went to a few years back, I noticed collectors and/or owners of the piece liked to stamp their seal in the blank space (just like tumblr reblogs!). So it isn't that much of a stretch to imagine past owners of the fan in our story doing the same...
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