Ngày 13 tháng 03 năm 2011

Ngày sinh của rắn (The Snake's Birthday) - Phạm Công Thiện (1966?)

Mười năm qua gió thổi đồi tây
Tôi long đong theo bóng chim gầy
Một sớm em về ru giấc ngủ
Bông trời bay trắng cả rừng cây

Gió thổi đồi tây hay đồi đông
Hiu hắt quê hương bến cỏ hồng
Trong mơ em vẫn còn bên cửa
Tôi đứng trên đồi mây trổ bông

Gió thổi đồi thu qua đồi thông
Mưa hạ ly hương nước ngược dòng
Tôi đau trong tiếng gà xơ xác
Một sớm bông hồng nở cửa đông.



Ten years ago winds blew in the western hills
I struggled to follow a gaunt bird's shadow
Early one day, dear, you returned, your song lulling slumber
The sky's blush casting white across the entire forest

Winds blew in the hills, west or east
Lightly to a homeland, docks of rosy grasslands
In dreams you're still at the door
I stand upon a hill, clouds abloom

Winds blew the autumn hills past those of pine
Summer, having left my land, going against the stream
I'm pained by the wretched rooster's clarion
Early morn a rose bloomed at winter's door to the east.

3 nhận xét:

Như Huy nói...

For ten years, a wind has stayed on the western hill,
I’ve stayed unsteady as a scrawny bird's shadow.
You appeared early one morning, a lullaby,
The entire forest turning white with the clouds.

Wind on western hill, on eastern,
The homeland a fragile gathering of rose-colored grass.
You stand, in dream still, by the door
Me, atop the hill, under clouds in bloom.

A wind takes autumn across to the pine hill--
That summer’s separation, rain fell against the stream,
A rooster crowed while I held my pain,
And a winter rose bloomed by the eastern door.

bản dịch của nhà văn Nguyễn Quý Đức

Nặc danh nói...

Phạm Công Thiện (1/6/1941 - 8/3/2011)

tây bụi nói...

From "Serpent's Day of Birth"
"Not Two"

by Nissai/NKBa

For over ten years winds blew across the western hills

I struggled to follow a gaunt bird's flying shadow

One early morning you came back with a lullaby

White clouds hang low over the forest trees


Now across eastern and western hills the winds blow

Over the homeland's pink meadowlands down below

In my dreams you still stand at the door

While I stand upon a hill amidst the blooming clouds


The winds blew across the hills of pine in the fall

I left the country in the summer, going against the flow

I was pained by the rooster's plaintive crow

A rose was blooming at the eastern door