冯亦代·《向日葵》英译

Sunflower

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> 

Feng Yidai

In the foreign press I read that Van Gogh's famous painting "Sunflower", which I have not seen for a long time, had been sold in <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />London at a high price of 39,000,000 dollars. Especially when I once more saw the picture of its original, I felt unhappy, as if I had just lost something from my heart. This is a favourite painting of mine but of course I would never have enough money to buy it. Despite I can't get it, I'm still so very fond of it. Since it is owned by a private person now, I have a feeling that this painting can no longer be enjoyed by the public. Although I will have no chance to appreciate this painting, I do think it is like a charming woman who has committed herself to a certain man. It is unavoidably a pitiful thing.

I remember that I had a reproduction of this famous painting. It was also called "Sunflower" but slightly different. I bought it in Shanghai after the victory of the Anti-Japanese War. One day while I was walking down Shanxi South Road, I saw a reproduction of Van Gogh's famous painting in the window of a small bookstore run by a man of Belarus. Van Gogh was an influential master in the development of modern painting since the 19th century. Although I had no knowledge of painting, I was fond of its tone of sharp contrasts. This bright painting contained pale sorrow and loneliness. The "Sunflower" was just one of a famous series. Among the seven paintings, four were stored in museums and one destroyed in Yokohama, Japan during the Second World War. The "Sunflower" was one of the last two paintings kept in private hands. Therefore, I bought a fine reproduction of this famous painting for one quarter of my month's salary.

I was especially fond of the painting "Sunflower", for the many yellow flowers were like bright pearls dazzling in my eyes. But placed in a flower vase against a yellow background, it manifested a dreary scene. It was as vacant as a finished banquet and only a candle was left burning, making us upset. Originally I enjoyed the sunflower as it turned its face towards the morning sun, dripping with dew drops, so tender, so lovely. Now, I have framed this painting and hung it on the wall of the dining room in my flat. The wall was painted dark green and the brilliant yellow sunlight transformed the painting into an immense field. It looked exceptionally pleasant to the eye and gave a sense of loneliness as well. Every day sitting opposite this painting, I would enjoy this pleasure and feel its loneliness as well. Later I read Owen Stone's The Desire of Life, a biography on Van Gogh's short life. He only lived thirty-seven years, half of which were spent insanely in the exploration of the misery of colour, finally he ended his life in suicide. He was not good at making a living, but he paved his own way in art, though he was not recognized until long after his death. After reading this book, I was deeply moved by his inflexible life career and treasured his embodied and graceful painting ever more. I seemed to understand why there was a sense of half joy and half loneliness in his painting.

After liberation I was transferred to Beijing to work and I failed to bring the picture with me. At that time I always felt that this picture did not suit with the surrounding atmosphere. For after liberation, I felt no loneliness but immersed and surrounded by happiness. Before long, I began to miss the picture again. It seems as if man is like this sunflower, even in his after-life he still struggles to grasp the departing sun. Thus, I thought of the dark green wall and felt it had absorbed this brilliant golden light for the time being. In vain, I struggled to drive away this lonely feeling which followed me like a shadow. With the lapse of time, the scene of golden yellow gradually faded in my memory and slowly became so estranged that it was almost forgotten.

During the ten years of turmoil here I was sent to labour in a reform-through-labour farm in the south wasteland. Every day I toiled beyond my physical capacity and was so dismal at heart that I became afraid of it. One day, when I was pushing a dung-cart by a peasant's hut, I noticed some tender yellow sunflowers stretching their heads over the fence into the vast blue sky. Suddenly I was reminded of Van Gogh's "Sunflower" hanging on the dark green wall in my Shanghai flat. I could recall my family happiness then and my three-year-old girl who said something in imitation of a grown-up's voice. When she found herself not good at doing so, she burst out laughing. She bent down on the desk and said pointing to the book I was reading:"When I become a grown-up, I want to read this book, too." Now, there were only a few sunflowers to greet me before my eyes and I felt upset at not knowing where to go. From then on, every day when I was collecting dung, I always took that same path. I didn't mind if it meant a much longer distance. I only wanted to have a look at all the sunflowers which were gradually becoming greyish yellow and review my past happiness. One day the peasants collected the rip seeds and stored them away. I remember that day when I was walking past that peasant's home, the children on the fence were snatching the harvest fruits. Amid their laughter I heard some sharp cries. I thought of my daughter who was living in the far north and how happy she would be if she was among those children and their joy! But if she saw her father pushing a heavy dung-cart in shabby clothes, what would she have thought of? I returned with my eyes full of tears. I again thought of Van Gogh's painting "Sunflower". Maybe when he was painting this picture, he was suffering a great loneliness. If not, how could he have painted such sunflowers which were going to fade? But he too was dreaming of happiness. If not, why did he use such a brilliant yellow colour as the bottom?

Van Gogh's "Sunflower" has been sold to the rich, but that reproduction will always live in my memory. I can not refrain from thinking about the painter's crazy desire towards life. In spite of the many twists and turns in life, one's love for life will never be eliminated. The golden rays of the sun continuously appear before my eyes. This is what Van Gogh's "Sunflower" has expressed what I did not say.