吴文英·《祝英台近·春日客龟溪游废园》英译

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巡古苑，

竹冷翠微路。

斗草溪根，

沙印小莲步。

自怜两鬓清霜，

一年寒食，

又身在、

云山深处。

 

昼闲度。

因甚天也悭春，

轻阴便成雨。

绿暗长亭，

归梦趁飞絮。

有情花影阑干，

莺声门径，

解留我、

霎时凝伫。

 

Revisiting the Cuiqi Garden in Spring

(To the Tune of Zhuyingtaijin)

Wu Wenying

 

Gathering nameless flowers

I stroll in the old garden,

along the green, bamboo-cooled trail.

Over there, young girls are playing

a game of straw by the stream,

leaving their footprints

like dainty lotus flowers

on the sand. Lost in self-pity,

I find my temples frost-streaked,

wandering in the depths

of the clouds and mountains

on the day of the Cold Food Festival.¹

 

The day is passing

in an idle way, light clouds

quickly turning into a drizzle.

Why should the heavens be so mean,

holding back the message

of the spring? Green leaves

keep the pavilion in somber shade.

Riding the willow catkins,

a dream goes back home,

where, against the railing, the flower

shadow compassionate, the oriole

twittering in the doorway,

for a short moment,

I stand gazing there.

 

1. In ancient China, people would not cook food for three days starting from April 4^th. So it is also called Cold Food Festival.