Preface Translation
My place of confinement, the prison walls—to the west sits the judicial court. There are some old pagoda trees and though they are living, one can clearly perceive that a similar abundance of trees has flourished from our ancient culture, listening to the cases and hearings, and the sweet plums of brisk imperial decrees.
As each night comes, the shining light falls low into darkness, drawing out the careless autumn cicadas, emitting a cry that ends the silence, a sound that leaves a cutting taste. How was my heart different in former times? Will I hear the insects make a sorrowful sound in coming times? Alas!
The tune moves me—the virtue of worthy figures purifying their bodies, conveying the conduct of noble beings. As they shed their skin, they are like the Daoist Immortals, their souls growing wings that carry them to heaven. They greet the seasons that come and go, following the rhythm of yin and yang—an official too must change, knowing the time to govern and the time to retire.
The cicada’s eyes are opened wide; its path is therefore not one of night, for it can see even in the dark. It has meager wings but does not change its nature from that abject state. It sings when the lofty trees send a bit of breeze, in tune with the wealth that heaven gives; it drinks the high autumn dews that fall, in purity, fearing the knowledge of men.
As a prisoner on a road astray, bound and tied by chance to the season’s strife, I do not lament my wounds or blame myself. Although it is not my age to wither and fall, I have become weak and feeble already.
As I hear the cold-weather cicada’s flowing melody, I realize my appeal must have already been heard; and seeing the praying mantis embrace his shadow, I am afraid the crisis has not yet calmed.
With these feelings, I patch together this poem, giving it to several who know me well. It follows a course that deals with numerous feelings, the grieving of a feeble feather, drifting. In writing this letter to those I know, I hope there is some remaining sympathy for my quiet desolation. This cannot be called literature; rather, it is something that takes the place of mournful isolation.
Poem Translation
Luo Binwang (~640-684) | 駱賓王 |
In Prison—The Singing Cicadas (with Preface) | 在獄詠蟬 并序 |
On the western road, a cicada’s singing voice | 西路 蟬聲唱 |
Leads this southern exile deep into thought. | 南冠 客思侵 |
How can I endure the image the black cicadas’ wings | 那堪 玄鬢影 |
When facing me, it’s White Hair Song, they sing? | 來對 白頭吟 |
The dew is heavy, making it hard for them to fly; | 露重 飛難進 |
The wind is great, consuming their tune. | 風多 響易沉 |
No one believes in their lofty spirit... | 無人 信高潔 |
So who will be there as I express my heart? | 誰為 表予心 |
Notes:
1. The poet, Luo Binwang, is regarded as one of the best four poets of the Early Tang Dynasty. He is renowned for his standard metrical verses.
2. He was caught up in disagreements between political factions, resulting in exile and imprisonment.
Original Chinese
Traditional | Simplified | Pronunciation |
駱賓王 | 骆宾王 | Luò bīn wáng |
在獄詠蟬并序 | 在狱咏蝉并序 | Zài yù yǒng chán bìng xù |
西路蟬聲唱， | 西陆蝉声唱， | Xī lù chán shēng chàng, |
南冠客思侵。 | 南冠客思侵。 | Nán guàn kè sī qīn. |
那堪玄鬢影， | 那堪玄鬓影， | Nà kān xuán bìn yǐng, |
來對白頭吟。 | 来对白头吟。 | Lái duì bái tóu yín. |
露重飛難進， | 露重飞难进， | Lù zhòng fēi nán jìn, |
風多響易沉。 | 风多响易沉。 | Fēng duō xiǎng yì chén. |
無人信高潔， | 无人信高洁， | Wú rén xìn gāo jié, |
誰為表予心。 | 谁为表予心。 | Shuí wèi biǎo yǔ xīn. |
Literal Notes
駱賓王 | Camel/white-horse-with-black-mane Guest King=Luo Binwang(640?- ?) |
在獄詠蟬并序 | In/at jail/prison eulogize/to-sing cicada together-with/also preface |
西路蟬聲唱， | West(ern/ward) road/passage/path cicada sound/music/voice/tone singing [road/passage=some variation shows it is another “lu”, means land, “west land” refers to autumn season in ancient Chinese.] |
南冠客思侵。 | South(ern/ward) Hat/cap/crown guest/traveler miss/think/ponder/consider invade/approach/encroach-upon [invade/approach= some variation shows it’s “深”(shen), means deep, so the poet was lost in deep thoughts.] |
那堪玄鬢影， | How-can-I/that/those afford/endure/adequately-capable-of/worthy-of black/deep/profound temple(hairs) shadow/image/reflection [black temple(hairs)=the black wings of the cicada, hinting he is still in his prime.] |
來對白頭吟。 | Come/coming/return face-toward/recite/correct/right White Head/Hair Song/poetry [White Head/Hair Song= a poem title from Yuefu (Folk-songs-style verses), the theme is about righteous people lamenting about being slandered.] |
露重飛難進， | Dews heavy/weighty fly difficult-to/arduous/hard/unable enter/advance/make-progress |
風多響易沉。 | Wind a-lot-of/many/much make-sound/echo/make-noise easily/change keep-down/sink/submerge |
無人信高潔， | No people/man trust/believe noble/lofty/high/elevated clean-living/unsullied/pure |
誰為表予心。 | To-whom can/do/is express/show my heart/mind |
Year:
2012
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