WP1: The Untranslatable Poems
Withered vines, old trees, crows at dusk
Small Bridge, running water, house
Ancient road, west wind, thin horse
Sun sinking west
Heartbroken one at the edge of the sky
“So this is your favorite poem?” Asked my host sister, “What is this poem about anyways?” 天净沙·秋思, or “Sunny Sand · Autumn Thoughts,” is a famous poem written by Zhiyuan Ma in the 1200s. “Sunny Sand” is the tune name, indicating the format and rhythm of the poem, and “Autumn Thoughts” is the title of this poem. It is famous for rendering a story by merely stacking eleven autumn images without using verbs or actions. The American girl translated this piece using an online translator, so I showed her a version of the poem translated by a famous Chinese translator, Xu Yuanchong:
Over old trees wreathed with rotten vines fly evening crows;
Under a small bridge near a cottage a stream flows;
On ancient road in the west wind a lean horse goes.
Westward declines the sun;
Far, far from home is the heartbroken one.
“Catchy! But still not sure what it means, so this is about a traveler?”, to which I shaked my head no. I tried to explain to her how “west wind” is commonly used as an image for autumn and recess because most Chinese territory, even thousands of years ago, is on the eastern side of the Eurasia continent, so autumn seasonal wind from the Pacific usually blows from the west.
That’s the moment I realized that for a 12-year-old girl who never left Arizona, which is on the western side of the American continent where the Rocky Mountains block all seasonal wind, there is no way she relates “west wind” with autumn not to mention that seasonal changes are not noticeable where she lives, so she couldn’t relate autumn with fallen leaves, recess of rivers, or the corresponding sorrow.
That’s the moment I realized that my favorite poem could not be interpreted literally, and the underlying metaphoric meaning of the eleven images depicted could only be accessed with corresponding cultural experience. Although the literal meaning of every phrase in the poem could be translated into English, there was no way to translate all the cultural contexts required to understand these phrases.
That’s the moment I realized that maybe there’s no point translating at all.
I’ve always been proud of China’s rich history and culture, especially Chinese poetry, and it’s in people’s nature to share what they are proud of. However, I found it impossible to articulate the brightness, bohemianism, and prosperity of the Great Tang Dynasty, the tenderness, sorrow, and resignation of the Song Dynasty, or the ambition, loyalty, and heroism of the Three Kingdoms in a completely different language. Because poems are not LITERAL but CULTURAL, they almost inevitably lose their meaning or charm in another language without proper context. Linguistics suggests that about 19 percent of Chinese phrases are culturally related, which means there’s no word-to-word or word-to-sentence translation for these phrases. Understanding them is more of a word-to-story or word-to-culture translation. For example, the character “猫” means “cat,” which is simple word-to-word correspondence. However, the character “侠” cannot be translated with a single word or phrase. It refers to people who seek justice and keep a high moral standard, like Batman or Spiderman are translated to “蝙蝠(Bat)侠” and “蜘蛛(Spider)侠.” My name has the character “禹” in it, and this character does not have a word-to-word or word-to-sentence translation. It reminds people of the great ancient emperor who established the first recorded dynasty of China about 5000 years ago, who “went past his home many times without entering” because he was too busy helping his people with flood control. “禹” represents the homage all Chinese pay to their great ancestor and his selfless devotion as an example for further rulers, so its cultural context and complexity that make it hard for me to answer the question, “What does your name mean in Chinese?”
Since Chinese poems are written with words that are not word-to-word translatable, how can we translate them?
Chinese modern enlightenment thinker and translator Yan Fu proposed there are three important aspects of translation: “faithfulness,” “expressiveness,” and “elegance.” (信达雅) Finding the balance between these three aspects is critical to successful translation, but it is rarely possible to appeal to all three. The first translation of Autumn Thoughts by machine is almost entirely faithful but fails in both expressiveness and elegance. The second translation by Xu Zhongyuan is easier on the readers, and it rhymes well, so it’s expressive and elegant. However, it is not entirely faithful to the original piece. Below is a word-to-word translation of the original poem, and it doesn’t say anything about the crow flying or the horse going. In fact, I would picture a rather stationary image from the poem, where a single lamenting crow rests on a dying tree, a faint horse stands by a dirt road, and even the water under the bridge has been running dry since its autumn. As aforementioned, the piece is famous for not using actions or verbs but piling up only noun images, but Xu’s version added verbs to it, which undermines the original tone. In this case, I believe Xu’s translation sacrificed too much faithfulness for the purpose of expressiveness and elegance. However, some sacrifices of faithfulness are justifiable. In this poem, “intestine-cut” is just a Chinese way of saying “heartbroken” because replacing the intestine with another vital organ does not sabotage the original meaning while providing clarity for English readers.
Withered 枯 Vine 藤 Old 老 Tree 树 Dusk 昏 Crow 鸦
Small 小 Bridge 桥 Flow(ing) 流 Water 水 People(’s) 人 House 家
Ancient 古 Road 道 West 西 Wind 风 Thin 瘦 Horse 马
Night 夕 Sun 阳 West 西 Down 下 (Night-Sun = Setting Sun)
Cut 断 Intestine 肠 Person 人 at 在 Sky 天 Edge 涯
For many years after that discussion with my host sister, I still didn’t like these two versions of the translation for Autumn Thouhgts, and I kept trying to come up with a better one, not only for this piece but many others. The more I think about it, the more I find that it is not that we haven’t put enough effort into translating or something’s wrong with our techniques. It is just poems like this are not translatable. The mere 28-character Autumn Thoughts has been recited for a thousand years by generations and generations, and it is the perfect embodiment of the beauty of the Chinese Language: why are we translating it to another language if the translations cannot capture the essence? It is true that I am proud to share this masterpiece with the other 80% of the non-Chinese-speaking population around the world, but if I myself fail to see the beauty of it in another language, then there’s really no point in creating such a translation. In fact, I consider half-baked attempts to translate the great works of poets as defiles to their names. Unfaithful translations, rather than serving as a gateway to cultural exchange, can inadvertently mislead readers and distort the intended meaning of the source texts, misrepresenting cultural nuances, historical contexts, and the subtle intricacies embedded in the language. More dangerously, when a dominant culture/language “can’t find the right words” to translate texts from an oppressed culture/language because there are really no “right words” for them in a different language, the dominating somehow manages to find “some words” as translation. By doing so, it is perpetuating cultural oppression, as they contribute to the distortion and erasure of diverse cultural narratives and reinforce dominant cultural norms while marginalizing and suppressing the voices of minority or marginalized cultures.
Language is culture. Culture is Language.
The more I interact with people outside of the East Asian culture circle, the more I understand that poetry and culture cannot be passively shared but only actively experienced. Poetry, as a form of linguistic artistry, encapsulates the essence of culture, making it a distinct and nuanced expression of shared experiences. While translation can bridge linguistic gaps, the true essence of cultural poetry often transcends language itself. It becomes an immersive journey, one that necessitates not just understanding words but embracing the cultural tapestry that weaves them together. In navigating interactions beyond my cultural sphere, I’ve come to appreciate that poetry and culture are not easily translatable commodities but rather intimate experiences. Each cultural expression, whether in language or poetic form, carries a rich history and a unique resonance that can only be fully comprehended through direct engagement and shared experiences. It underscores the importance of cultural immersion and open-minded exploration to truly grasp the profound beauty embedded in the diversity of human expression.
Works Cited
- Ma, Zhiyuan, Autumn Thoughts, 1200s
- Xu, Yuanchong, Song of the Immortals: An Anthology of Classical Chinese Poetry, Beijing: New World Press,1994
- Yan, Fu, Evolution and Ethics, 1893
- Freire, Paulo. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Bloomsbury Publishing, 1970.
