方维仪·《死别离》英译

昔闻生别离，不言死别离。

无论生与死，我独身当之。

北风吹枯桑，日夜为我悲。

上视沧浪天，下无黄口儿。

人生不如死，父母泣相持。

黄鸟各东西，秋草亦参差。

予生何所为，死亦何所辞。

白日有如此，我心徒自知。

Parted by Death 

Fang Weiyi

Since times of old we hear of separation;

Who has spoken of partings by death?

Yet whether it be by life or by death

I face it all alone.

The north wind buffets the barren mulberry,

It mourns for me night and day.

I lift my eyes to the broad azure sky

Below, no wide-mouthed babe.¹

To live thus is worse than death,

Still, mother and father cling and weep.

Two orioles fly one east, one west,

The autumn grasses, too, are in disarray.

I live and what do I serve?

I die why should I refuse?

That under the white sun there can be such torment,

My heart knows well, in vain.

1. She raises her eyes to heaven in supplication, like the speaker of poem 65 in the Book of Odes. The expression huang kou er describes a fledgling chick or a baby. This couplet alludes grimly to the yuefu poem “Leaving from the Eastern Gate” (“Chu dongmen xing”), in which a wife pleads with her husband not to depart: “Other families only care for wealth and fortune, /Your humble wife would simply share the plainest gruel/For the sake of the bounty of blue heaven above/And our wide-mouthed babes below.”

（Paula Varsano 译）