The weeds that grow in cemeteries
Are just the secrets we
Take to our graves.
墓地里长出的野草
不过是我们带到
自己坟前的秘密。
The weeds that grow in cemeteries
Are just the secrets we
Take to our graves.
墓地里长出的野草
不过是我们带到
自己坟前的秘密。
For years I listened to the wind
Sighing in the east,
Until finally
It carried you to me.
多年来,我听着风声
在东方叹息,
直到最后
它把你带到我身边。
You come and go leaving
no trace.
You tell me one day you will
disappear.
Am I to carry this secret
to my grave?
你来了又走
不留痕迹。
你告诉我某天你将
消失不见。
难道我要将这个秘密
带入我的坟墓吗?
Walking down the mountain path
A scent of wild jasmine,
And I remember someone
Long gone.
我从山中走下来
忽闻一阵野茉莉花香,
我想起一个
已故多年的人。
Meet me at the cemetery,
At the old stone gate;
On the carpet of autumn leaves
We’ll talk of how we met,
Of the years that have passed,
Of the detours of our lives,
Of the music we danced to,
Of the light in your eyes.
Meet me at the cemetery,
Where you said we should someday,
To watch the distant sunset
And the lights across the bay.
Meet me at the cemetery,
Come meet the soul you could not save;
Meet me at the cemetery,
And I will show you my grave.
来墓地与我相会,
等在古老的石门边;
在落满秋叶的地上
我们将谈起昨日的相遇,
这些流逝的年华,
我们生命的殊途,
伴我们起舞的音乐,
还有你眼里的光亮。
来墓地与我相会,
你曾说我们有一天会在这里遇见,
看远方的落日
还有海湾对面的光点。
来墓地与我相会,
瞧你不能救赎的这颗灵魂;
来墓地与我相会,
我将带你去我的坟前。
The wind rattles the shuttered house,
The late afternoon brings a spatter of rain.
Inside the rooms are bare,
In the dark there are no shadows.
But once a little girl laughed here,
And threw open the windows
And let in the rain.
风刮得百叶窗咯吱作响,
雨水在傍晚前溅落。
屋里空无一物,
阴影遁形在黑暗中。
有一个小女孩曾在这里欢笑,
她突然打开窗
让雨淋进来。
If you listen quietly
In the silence of the evening
You can hear the caterpillars
Having butterfly dreams.
如果你仔细听
在夜的静谧中
你能听见毛毛虫
正在做蝴蝶的梦。
On the frozen river in the cold dawn
A raven croaks.
There are
Spirits here.
在黎明的寒气中,冰河上
一只鸦在叫。
这里有一些
灵魂。
How long can one gaze into the green hills,
Between curtains of rain?
The dribble of water down the gutter
Measures our minutes on this Earth.
透过雨帘,
你能凝望青山多久?
雨水滴入沟槽
倒数我们在地球上的一分一秒。
High above the desert in a hot blue sky
I am half a world away,
While my love walks among the snow geese
On the cold shores
Of far Chesapeake Bay.
在热浪翻腾的沙漠上,蓝天下
我与你相隔半个世界,
而我的爱人正和雪雁一起走在
切萨皮克湾深处
清冷的岸上。
In the chill of the morning fog
The wet stone garden path
And I remember the red roses
By the gates of Rothiemay.
在晨雾的凉意中
花园石径被打湿
我想起那些红玫瑰
开在罗西梅的门边。
Bravely we beat our wings
Facing the sun
Thinking we will live
Forever
面对太阳
我们勇敢地挥翅
好像我们将长生
不死
The sight of you in your white dress
When the boatman brought you to me
Across the Perfume River
Has lasted me
A thousand years.
你身穿白色连衣裙
船夫载着你滑过香水河
来到我身边
这个场景已经
陪伴了我一千年。
Today on the shore
I spoke your name;
In a breath the ocean
Took it away.
今天在岸边
我说出了你的名字;
一个呼吸便被海水
带走了。
In the dark an owl calls.
And for no reason,
No reason at all,
I remember that time
I woke before dawn,
Gathered wild flowers,
And in secret left them
At your door.
一只猫头鹰在黑暗中哭喊。
不知为何,
毫无理由地,
我想起那一次
我在破晓前醒来,
采了一束野花,
悄悄地放在
她的门前。
In the green hills
Of far Mindanao
She walks barefoot,
Sensitive as a bird
To the first drops of rain.
在棉兰老岛深处的
青山里
她光着脚走路,
灵敏如一只鸟
走到天空落下第一滴雨。
I held you close,
Your small warm body,
Your beating heart.
And then you taught me how to
Let go.
Still if only I could protect you
Forever.
我把你抱紧,
你小巧、温暖的身体,
你跳动的心。
接着你教我如何
放手。
可是,只要我能永远
保护你。
So it seems I may have been waiting,
And I was fine.
Years of endless nights passed
Without your touch,
And I was fine.
Now I am still waiting,
And I dread the dawn will come
Without the sound of your voice.
If they say that is a crime,
Here I am,
Put me in chains.
看来我一直在等待,
我很好。
多少年来,漫漫长夜过去
没有你的触摸
我很好。
现在我依然在等待,
但我害怕黎明到来时
听不见你的声音。
如果他们说那是犯罪,
我在这里,
给我戴上镣铐。
I am impatient, annoyed
At this futile rain
Shrouding my morning
When I would rather be somewhere else.
Somewhere with more colour,
Red doors and Mediterranean blue walls,
The warmth of a summer place,
Under the shade of the ancient banyan tree
There are baskets high with red chillies,
Green cucumbers and the ripe lychee,
Yellow limes and green papayas…
Somewhere on the Pearl River perhaps
Down by the iron bridge at Hue
By the gates of the old Citadel
Where you once commanded me to
Read you secret messages
While I bathed your feet in rose water
And lost entire lifetimes in your eyes.
我很不耐烦,坐立不安
这徒劳的雨
笼罩着我的早晨
而我却宁愿呆在别的地方。
一个色彩斑澜的地方,
红门和地中海蓝墙,
被夏天晒暖,
在一棵古榕树的凉荫下
一些篮子里装满了红辣椒、
绿黄瓜和熟荔枝,
黄柠檬和青木瓜……
或者荡漾在香水河上
在顺化的铁桥下
在古皇城的大门边
你曾经在那里命令我
为你朗读秘密信件
而我正在玫瑰水中为你沐浴双脚
并在你眼中失去了我的整个人生。
Some of these pieces have been written over time, but several of them through the pandemic summer of 2020, when poetry, music and Wild Cranes became a refuge from negativity, a place for the magic of life and human relationships.
Some are freeze frames of a moment in time, a flashback, or a daydream. Others are meditations on confluence and coincidence, on destiny, fate and chance. Some were scribbled in the margins of a boarding pass, or of a notebook on a remote assignment.
Many of us wish to transcend boundaries, perhaps to be greater than ourselves. Translating these pieces offered a door to new possibilities.
In an alignment of stars, Liuyu Ivy Chen, writer, poet, alchemist, brought her incredible sensitivity to the translation. But I wanted the thoughts to transform further, into something visual. The next step led obviously to the elegance and power of traditional calligraphy. In the installation that visual element dominates so that at first glance one may perhaps wonder which has been translated, the Chinese into English, or the English into Chinese – and whether it makes any difference.
The incredibly talented Zhao Xu came into the picture to turn this step into reality. And my daughter Tanya Ghosh, a brilliant artist, turned all these pieces into objects of a unified, luminous beauty.
There were times when I thought this project would collapse under the weight of its own ambition. Four busy artists were collaborating across the planet - the writer Indian born, of a German mother and a Bengali father, writing in English and now living in Washington DC; the translator born in China and transplanted to the United States (New York, Atlanta, and now again New York); the calligrapher in China shuttling between Beijing and Dalian; the designer and photographer grown up halfway across the world and now also transplant in New York.
Trust and faith in the idea made it happen. I am deeply grateful to Liuyu Ivy Chen, Zhao Xu, and Tanya for this remarkable collaboration.
And I am grateful to Penny and David Yao, and David Uy, for seeing the potential of the idea, and having trust in me to actually deliver. It is an honor to show Wild Cranes for the very first time at the Chinese American Museum in Washington DC.
--- Nirmal Ghosh
Nirmal Ghosh is a German-Indian journalist, author and wildlife conservationist, who has lived and worked across Asia with a notable stint in Thailand. He is currently based in Washington DC as US Bureau Chief for the Singapore newspaper The Straits Times.
Liuyu Ivy Chen is a poet, writer, and translator. Born and raised in the mountainous region of central Zhejiang, she migrated to Beijing and then the United States for education and experience. She writes bilingually and transports words across borders.
Zhao Xu is an art collector, painter, and calligrapher living in Beijing. A disciple of renowned artist Yang Renkai, he graduated from the Central Academy of Fine Arts, where he teaches. His work has been shown in Beijing, Hong Kong, and New York.
Tanya Ghosh is a photographer, high-end retoucher and artist based in New York City. Born in India, she spent her childhood in Singapore and went on to develop a background in design in Australia, eventually branching out to the US. Having lived and travelled across the globe she is constantly inspired by different cultures and feels like a child of the world.