This morning I visited Jeff Schwaner’s site, read his poems and decided to accept his challenge of translating one of them into my native tongue (Chinese/Cantonese).
I have his permission to reproduce the original here. Unfortunately this format differs from the original in line breaks (same with my translation) and I’m afraid I’m such a techno moron that I don’t know how to fix it, so please visit his website to view the original. – Jeff Schwaner’s blog: http://jeffschwaner.com/translate-this-poem/
(c) Mary Tang 鄧許文蘭 2015
For Tomas Tranströmer
The ice on the road sees us with our own eyes
and is no better than we are at helping ourselves
as direction changes. In a winter far south of here,
the edge of still water is guarded by cypress knees,
like a tired army that lay on their backs for a nap
and never found a reason to get up. Beyond them
I heard the bellow of a bull alligator claiming the world.
By a cold spring corn field a thousand miles
away, watching the storm’s wind sprint across
before it could be heard or felt, I know everything
can be claimed, like these memories—are the endless
chances to say hello merely a shout over the slumbering?
Is the wind with its violence finally hearing us with our ears?
I will sit here with you for awhile and see what comes.
– Jeff Schwaner’s blog: http://jeffschwaner.com/translate-this-poem/