静夜思
床前明月光，
疑是地上霜。
举头望明月，
低头思故乡。
静夜思 by the Tang poet, 李白 (Li Bai) is probably the first poem every Chinese learns. Last week, I saw it again in Peter’s textbook, and decided to check up its English translation. Surprisingly, I found nine versions:
I. In the Still of the Night
I descry bright moonlight in front of my bed.
I suspect it to be hoary frost on the floor.
I watch the bright moon, as I tilt back my head.
I yearn, while stooping, for my homeland more.
(Translated by 徐忠杰)
II. A Tranquil Night
A bed, I see a silver light,
I wonder if it’s frost aground.
Looking up, I find the moon bright;
Bowing, in homesickness I’m drowned.
(Translated by 许渊冲译)
III. In the Quiet Night
So bright a gleam on the foot of my bed—
Could there have been a frost already?
Lifting my head to look, I found that it was moonlight.
Sinking back again, I thought suddenly of home.
(Translated by Witter Bynner)
IV. Night Thoughts
I wake, and moonbeams play around my bed,
Glittering like hoar-frost to my wandering eyes;
Up towards the glorious moon I raise my head,
Then lay me down – and thoughts of home arise.
( Translated by Herbert A. Giles)
V. On a Quiet Night
I saw the moonlight before my couch,
And wondered if it were not the frost on the ground.
I raised my head and looked out on the mountain moon,
I bowed my head and thought of my far-off home.
(Translated by S. Obata)
VI. The Moon Shines Everywhere
Seeing the moon before my couch so bright
I thought hoar frost had fallen from the night.
On her clear face I gaze with lifted eyes:
Then hide them full of Youth’s sweet memories.
(Translated by W.J.B. Fletcher)
VII. Night Thoughts
In front of my bed the moonlight is very bright.
I wonder if that can be frost on the floor?
I lift up my head and look at the full moon, the dazzling moon.
I drop my head, and think of the home of old days.
(Translated by Amy Lowell)
VIII. Thoughts on a Tranquil Night
Athwart the bed
I watch the moonbeams cast a trail
So bright, so cold, so frail,
That for a space it gleams
Like hoarfrost on the margin of my dreams.
The splendid moon I see:
Then droop my head,
And sink to dreams of thee -
My father land , of thee!
(Translated by L.Cranmer-Byng)
IX. Nostalgia
A splash of white on my bedroom floor. Hoarfrost?
I raise my eyes to the moon, the same noon.
As scenes long past come to mind, my eyes fall again on the splash of white, and my heart aches for home.
(Translated by 翁显良译)
I like 许渊冲’s version the most, especially the last sentence “Bowing, in homesickness I’m drowned”. Which one is your favourite?
It is the sheer range of translations that I enjoy the most. This is only possible because of the sparseness of the Chinese in the original poem, a sparseness which is impossible to capture in fully grammatical English. But by being forced to close the linguistic gaps, the translator is also compelled to close the number of potential readings, reducing — or at best irretrievably altering — the original appeal of the poem.