傅正明的博客
“籠天地於形內，挫萬物於筆端”，選載作者論著章節和新論新譯
Song of A Traveling Son
by Meng Jiao
A needle between a loving mother’s fingers
Turns to the clothe of her son before his journey.
The sewing thread moves into dense and denser
For worrying about his return will be late and later.
How can the heart of an inch-sized grass repay
The brightness of the spring sun’s mercy?
tr. by Zhengming Fu
謹以孟郊《遊子吟》新譯告慰慈母在天之靈，2021年 5月9日母親節發布
傅正明
附錄
孟郊·《遊子吟》英譯
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慈母手中線，遊子身上衣。 臨行密密縫，意恐遲遲歸。 誰言寸草心，報得三春暉。
For Her Son Who’ll Be Away for a While Meng Jiao
Needle and thread in doting mother’s hand Turn out garments for her son out to roam the land. She puts in more stitches e’en as he leaves And frets that his homecoming may be moved back. Who says the tiny inch-tall blade of grass Can e’er repay the warm sunshine of spring?
（龔景浩 譯）
The Wandering Son’s Song
The thread from my dear mother’s hand Was sewn in the clothes of her wandering son. For fear of my belated return, Before my leave they were closely woven. Who says mine heart like a blade of grass Could repay her love’s gentle beams of spring sun?
（孫大雨 譯）
Chant of a Roaming Son
The thread in the mother’s hand, The clothes worn by the wanderlust son. The nearer the departure, The closer the stitches sown, Lest his return be further postponed. Who said the grass blade of a heart Could repay the glory of the late spring sun?
（任治稷、餘正 譯）
A Journeyer’s Song
Through a kind mother’s hands passed the thread That made the clothes I journeying wear. Tightly tightly she wove them then, Dreading year after year of no return. Can the young grass ever repay The spring sun’s kindly rays?
（張廷琛、魏博思 譯）
Song of the Parting Son
From the threads a mother’s hands weaves, A gown for parting son is made. Sown stitch by stitch before he leaves, For fear his return be delayed. Such kindness as young grass receives From the warm sun can’t be repaid.
（許淵衝 譯）
A Roamer’s Song
My benevolent mother — With thread and needle in hand, Mends the garment I have on, Ere I leave my native land.
More stitches, ere I take leave, To hold the seams firm and fast. As itinerant worker, To come home I’d be the last.
With what can I repay Ma? Whatever others may say, For what she has done for me, Her, I can never repay.
（徐忠傑 譯） |
