|
| |
-
- Du Tử Lê,
thơ dịch bởi một người trẻ tuổi
Nếu không kể những bài thơ được các dịch giả, học giả, nhà văn như Nguyễn
Ngọc Bích, Neil L. Jamieson, Jean Claude Pomonti... chuyển dịch sang Anh và
Pháp ngữ...từ trước tháng 4 năm 1975; và được in trong những cuốn như A
Thousand Years of Vietnamese Poetry; Understanding Vietnam; La Rage d’Être
Vietnamien; World Poetry: An Anthology Verse From the Antiquity to Our
Present Time...th́, ngay tự những năm đầu thập niên 1980, rất nhiều bài thơ
của nhà thơ Du Tử Lê đă được chuyển dịch sang Anh ngữ bởi những dịch giả tên
tuổi như Đỗ Đ́nh Tuân, Huỳnh Sanh Thông, Vũ Ngự Chiêu, Kirl Linsay, Phạm
Trọng Lệ, Như Hạnh, Thiên Nhất Phương...
Nhưng măi tới cuối thập niên 1990, mới có một người trẻ (rất trẻ,) chọn dịch
một số thơ của họ Lê sang Anh Ngữ. Đó là nhà thơ và, cũng là ứng viên ban
Tiến sĩ, đại học Stanford, ngành lịch sử truyền khẩu / Oral History: Cô Trần
Nguyễn Trang Đài.
Những bài thơ của Du Tử Lê mà, Trần Nguyễn Trang Đài chọn để chuyển dịch
sang Anh ngữ, đă được nhiều dịch giả chuyển ngữ trước cô, hàng chục năm...
Nhưng Trần Nguyễn Trang Đài vẫn đem lại cho những bài thơ đó, những rung cảm
và, nhịp đập khác.
Hơn thế nữa, những bài thơ dịch của Trang Đài Trần Nguyễn chưa từng được phổ
biến trong bất cứ một tác phẩm nào, đă xuất bản của nhà thơ Du Tử Lê.
Cali Weekly trân trọng cảm ơn tác giả và, dịch gỉa đă đồng ư cho chúng tôi
phổ biến những bản dịch Anh ngữ mới nhất này.
Đồng thời, trước khi thưởng thức những bản dịch mới, một số thơ của nhà thơ
Du Tử Lê, chúng tôi cũng mời quư bạn đọc, thân hữu thưởng thức một bài thơ
tiếng Việt của nhà thơ Trần Nguyễn Trang Đài, viết về Du Tử Lê.
Trân trọng,
- Cali Weekly
-
TRẦN NGUYỄN TRANG ĐÀI,
gửi Lê
tôi biết Lê, như người xa lạ
khi Ḥa B́nh vào cửa Chiến Tranh
sinh chậm hơn đạn bom, lớn không kịp hỗ lốn
sự thật nào của Lê?
cuộc đời nào cho tôi?
tôi biết Lê, như một người cha
cái vần điệu hăi hồn, tôi gối khụy lệ rơi
khẽ nào, để nước mắt thôi xiết vào xương
đang ôm đất, vẫn ru hồn
tôi biết Lê, như kẻ khác
đă đến từ phía bên kia đại dương
Lê mất nước, Lê tan nhà
Lê mất những ǵ nữa,
Lê đi t́m chi khác?
tôi biết Lê, như hồi chuông vọng
truyền sóng tang thương, vật vă những niềm đau
cái âm trong Lê
hạnh ngộ tào khê nhân bản
tôi biết Lê, như Việt Nam
cung ḷng mẹ và ṿm ngực cha
sông phù sa, núi thất lĩnh
đồng bào, đất mẹ, đều trong nhau
tôi biết Lê, như con đất Việt
tôi biết Lê, như tôi biết tôi
tôi biết Lê, như cánh chim
vượt biển, tụ đồi
tôi biết Lê, như nhịp điệu và con chữ
như nàng thơ
đời quên lăng, vẫn mênh mang
© 2003 by Trangdai Tranguyen
the interval Mother has entered
you know not of my dreams
where I fly along the way between HaNam-HaNoi
with the boats carrying salt
the boats of nails
those holding wicker patches, bamboo poles
they carry my soul floating along the Day river
and Mother's fidelity
which is fathomless
you know not of my dreams
from which I wake up, still hypnotic
as if a train has just left
for HaDong
where Mother was born, and grew up
and begone, following her husband
my maternal hometown to me
is a secret still
as the silk strings crossing the sky
i keep reaching, they remain beyond my touch
you know not of my dreams
encountering Mother in person
fixing for me, my blanket
stroking me, my hair
years have gotten lost behind
yet she canot accept
the white hair that has migrated to my head
the lines engraved on the dark forehead
the eyes that have become dull
(the crystal eyes that followed
Mother on days that the market met)
the eyes that are uneven because of rain and sun
she asks why my hair is white
which veins are peaking out of the folded skin?
...
you know not of my dreams
waking up soaked in memories of the day she passed onto another world in the
hospital
Mother has not had a piece of vermillion
a bowl of pho, a serving of banh canh
a ballut
a slice of fried fish
though right now everyday I still eat
like Spring still comes
like Garden Grove boulevard
rightfully cuts across Magnolia
disecting Brookhust...
but my dear, everything has altered
since you, like Mother, have no longer been.
-
a letter from camp pendleton
thank you,
thank you, Pendleton
for the sweet-brisky sunsets
the sunsets that saw my soul
on top of the mountains surrounding us
and i thought i could see the whole world
though i couldn't see a thing
except my own shadow
and heeded my own footsteps
babbling in the shattered shoes back to my how-very-bleak place
thank you
thank you Pendleton
for the tent
i crept in and out
uncertain and hesitating
like a yellow rat
with a frozen mind
and useless hands
when i die, take me to the sea
when i die, take me to the sea
a life in exile yearns no burial
dwelling in a foreign land, how can my body molder?
my spirit lingers, how can it come home?
when i die, take me to the sea
currents against the flow will push it on
look, the other side is my sea, my home
there stands the bamboo grove, green, ever-green
when i die, take me to the sea
and do not hasten to close my eyes
let me face homeward one last time
in case my body never made it home
when i die, take me to the sea
dither not, no reasons for concerns
many had fed well the fish crossing the ocean years past
what's so important, just this crouched cadaver?
when i die, take me to the sea
so i can return and meet my children
so i can see their tears running quick
from the eyes sadder than the dark
whe i die, take me to the sea
and on the way, please sing our anthem
o, how long has it been forgotten?
(the song drifts like an apparition)
when i die, my pang also ends
a life in exile turns its back to its own soul
a monk, for you, have i suited
on walls of the monastery i hung only your images
innumerable volumes of teachings, just one title
the upper-cased letter puzzled all souls
Buddha said, "It is Buddhadarma, and is not"
you will make the world munificent
life's ocean, at your glance, sings in concord
the bird folds its wings in detachment
sentient, you sit as if on a lotus
......
for you, i turn into a mountainside pagoda
tiled roof, mossed wall. Blushing flowers
my love for you, the carpet, awaiting your steps
how gentle - how earth misses heaven
pearls of tear you shed on love's zendo
bloom into enlightenment's chanting
each night i crave for your
realizing in the sutra both you and the shadow
in her saintly hand roams my life
ask God, then you'll know
my heart sags on like an old town, like a hand
my feet hold their breath, each toe pauses
getting lost. No cue in sight
ask the sun ray, then you'll know
i'm as lean as a leaf, light as a cloud
a late-night wind, my thoughts and feelings strewn
heaven - you are mine, or whose?
......
ask the heart! what does it say?
the blood is obliged, at times, not to circulate
to show you my soul behind the tree trance
its trunks stretch beyond its prime
ask God! He'll answer
in her saintly hand is my life
i've flown for a lifetime without me
III.
i've flown a lifetime without me
soul of the seagull, shadowed in the sutra
in the mirror, whose tears
your leaf takes flight outside our encounter
IV.
chant from chant for love revival
volume of Betrayal. volume of Forgotten
night turns in and out the Chaste and the Book
which is Buddha's finger? which is moon?
V.
who is I? who are thou?
are we one, or still two? Are or gone?
which self is true? which is false?
enlightenment, will we arrive?
........
VI.
Nirvana differs not from inferno
when woe resides still in me
shredding my colon. Rain, come
longing tears up the cavernous night. Squirmy keen marks
.......
IX.
three thousand worlds, still i
know not where to be? where to stay?
the temple was burned. i'll leave
where is the Three-Buddha, and you?
poetry in the time of youthless lives
we grew up: rivers broken into pieces
carmeling melancholy up the mountain. play with cloud string
some borrow lyrics and melodies
few others transport guns in and out of their lives
the meek lean onto cleric cloak
the prodigal die well in blades' womb
those apprehensive asked: - Where'd God gone?
some go into the forest. Some tutor kids, others tatoo artists
we grew up: cracking out cactus, desert
we seek refuge in literary tunnel
words and their sport yield no way out
just a few cuts, a pen stroke is in vain
birds build nest. we dulge into smoke
throw up on the face of existence. vomit out human liver
the American-hired hands show it off. the suit carries the case
the janitor: a ditcher. The bewildered
in each other we see home
bombs devour our youth
re-education camps eat up some more decades
once freed, wife disowns, children turn their back
forcing a smile - i'm still cool
eyes turn yellow, flying memory
my veins burge longing for home
each night tragedic dreams chase after
cold feet, i am berserk in the Pacific
to survive? get rid of your life
red hat, black beret... 'tis all long over
i've settled for culi's food
you'll have the same! - Just brace yourself
........
in each other we see home
somehow it's aching
let's come home to cast our last breath
thousand-year motherland forlorn, how can we?
love's creed on February 14
III.
when you write i'll be pen and paper
pen is lonesome, whom is ink thinking of?
paper from trees. pen from ancient wood
ink from sap. i reincarnate from you
IV.
when you sleep, take me your pillow
just in case... you want it to cuddle
or throw out when you're upset
pick me up when you wake. you know you were... ardent
V.
when you read, i'll be the words
tons of volumes, only telling our love
each line begins: your name in upper case
even the comma or period satiated in joy
the first earthly psalm
on earth they won't understand
how i have you as a dew
a red flower, sunset's soul
i see in you: homeland
on earth they won't understand
i have you as a twitter
flown in the storm, dropped on the streets
i learn from you: failing to recall
on earth they won't understand
i have you as childhood
sobbing on my pillow, with my blanket
sad, as if Mom was away
on earth they won't understand
that i know your sorrow well
know that at my journey's end, my heart still cold
with the blues hoverin' the void
on earth they won't understand
i beg you to resurect me, soon
the homebound crystal-spring piece
split the homeland: night weeps in her hands
rain rolled in its scarf, piercing childhood
split the identity: unhinged
i rest in which grave yard? who burried whom!?
split psyche: canal, dike drain
hair scent searched open skewed shoulder
as if the apparition has just taken off
bones, flesh, next life, blood
split the wind: trees bid farewell
the heart is wounded on lips of time
cutting off cogitation, woods howl
centenial streams losing touch with its fount
@2003 Trang Đài Trần Nguyễn.
| |
|
