freya_victoria (freya_victoria) wrote in fem_books,

Ван Цзяолуань

Ван Цзяолуань - поэтесса 16-го века с трагической историей.
Вот что пишут о ней в старинной антологии:
"Ван Цзяолуань была дочерью мелкого офицера из Линьаня. Ее отец был назначен на пост военного коменданта в Наньяне. Был там некий Чжоу Тинчжан из Удзяна, чей отец служил преподавателем в конфуцианской школе в Наньяне в то время. Случилось так, что школа находилась совсем рядом со штабом гвардии; и Чжоу и Цзяолуань вступили в тайную связь, поклявшись, что никогда не изменят друг другу до конца своих дней. Затем Чжоу вернулся в свой родной уезд и там женился на другой женщине. Когда Цзяолуань услышала об этом и поняла, что нет способа исправить ситуацию, она собрала все стихи, которыми они ранее обменивались и тайно прикрепила их к депеше, которую ее отец намеревался отправить в суд провинции Сучжоу. В тот же вечер она повесилась. Когда этот документ дошел до Сучжоу, Сю Еши и Фань Гунше прочитали его и, возмущенные ее историей, они наказали Чжоу в соответствии с законом."
Свою судьбу она описала в довольно длинной автобиографической поэме из 180 строк, в конце которой она определенно заявляет о своем намерении покончить с собой и говорит, что никогда не простит неверного возлюбленного, даже в мире мертвых.
Вот это, по-моему, самая сильная строка: "Убийство может быть прощено, но смерть чувства - никогда" ("Murder may be forgiven, but never the death of feeling").
Song of Everlasting Resentment
                    This song of lasting resentment - for whom is it written?
                    Once I begin writing, I become sick in my heart.
                    Brooding at dawn, longing at duskno end to it at all;
                    So again I take paper in hand to tell of my fickle lover.
                    My family originally were folk from Lin'an;
                    My grandfather won merit, was honored by emperors.
                    Once he was granted the rank of a general;
                    He guarded state and people, bowed to his lord's pleasure.
                    Later, because my father erred in his military duty,
                    He was demoted to Nanyang, an outpost of a thousand families.
                    Father cried, the children wept to have come to such a pass;
                    Earth frozen, the sky coldwho then would look after us?
                    He had raised me deep within the women's chambers;
                    Never had I ventured even to play in our house's court.
                    My parents cherished meI was their pearl, their jade;
                     And I loved my parentsfor me, they were treasured jewels.
                    How could I know the ruin I'd meet at twenty?
                    I went out with a girl friend, left dressing table behind.
                    We went off to visit West Garden and played on a swing;
                     And there amid the flowers I met a talented lad.
                    The swing ride over, I soon faced him across a banquet mat;
                    Amid sounds of fine stringed instruments our gold cups passed about.
                    Grateful I was that you should present the wine to me;
                     Romantic feelings without end were written on your brow.
                    Our eyes sent out words of lovewe couldn't help ourselves;
                    Raising your head, your single smile was a fortune in gold.
                    When I left, I happened to lose my scented silk kerchief
                    And had to send my maid back to find it and bring it back.
                    I didn't think its scented silk would fall into your hands.
                    In vain I sent my Meixiang back and forth to look.
                    Then I kindly received the scented silk poem you wrote,
                    Stirring in me fits of longing till I lay in illness.
                    Love notes came, letters wentthough our love was great,
                    Never could we chant our verses hand in hand together.
                    Your father's office was next door, as far as Heaven!
                    A torrent of idle grief poured forth from me in a cascade.
                    Once I could trim rush-mats, present them on Duanwu day
                    Happy before, I could not know the bitter sadness to come.
                    Longing for you oft and again, two years then went by;
                    Then my father adopted you as a child of my mother's.
                    Adopted then by my mother, you became my brother
                    My family now accepted you, and we could stroll together.
                    Yet I feared our passions would soon turn improper;
                     So we then bound up our hair, swore an oath upon the hills.
                    Swore upon the hills and seas, yet on this I did not rely
                    And I asked Aunt Cao as well to act as our go-between.
                    Then we wrote our marriage vows, sent them off to Heaven
                    Now united in married bliss, for it was Heaven's decree.
                    Then I took my husband's leadour hearts were then as one;
                    Side by side, holding hands, we strolled among the flowers.
                    I can't recall the hundreds of times we played at clouds and rain,
                     But only remember the three thousand "moon and wind" verses we wrote.
                    Though my name was Wang, and yours was Zhou,
                    A heaven full of lovely weather marked our wedded bliss.
                    We'd gaily plan our secret trysts off in the western hall,
                    Chant together hand in hand as we strolled in South Garden.
                    For two years, then, our union was as sweet as honey;
                    We swore we'd stay together in life, to stick like lacquer.
                    Then suddenly all at once you thought of home
                     All day you longed for your kin, your regret without end.
                    Missing your kin, yet loving your wifethe two were hard to bear.
                    You gave up sleep, forgot to eat; bit by bit you grew ill.
                    My heart couldn't stand to see the grief of your heart
                     So I urged my love to return once more to his former home.
                    Over and over I told you, as you left Gusu City
                   "Don't listen to the song of spring in the brothel lanes.
                    As soon as you have seen your mother, turn back
                     For you must recall the lonely one in her scented room."
                    So I earnestly entreated him, at the time of parting
                    "Forsake the old or cherish the newit is up to you while away."
                    Once he left, I never thought that he'd forget to return.
                     To long for you till end of day was worse for me than death.
                    Many came to tell me that you had married again;
                    Many times I was almost persuaded, but found it hard to believe.
                    Then I heard from Sun the Ninth, just returned from a trip:
                     A newly married couple held Zhuo Wenjun in jest.
                    How I despised my love for such a fickle man!
                    Even over a thousand miles, our bonds should not be severed.
                    You obtained your wish, and then you betrayed all my love;
                   Once you got what you had wanted, amorous feelings vanished.
                    Don't wonder at how great my grief then became
                    Everywhere were trunks and sacks filled with my poems.
                    Letter-paper, brocade notesfive thousand sheets;
                     I wore three hundred ink-brushes down to the nub.
                    In my jade chamber I grew thindelicate and weak.
                    Our happy years now became a time for eternal longing.
                    In vain I cast the eight characters of my natal fate;
                      Idly sought my destiny in a Changes hexagram.
                    The coins were thrown out of shape, my heart in flame within;
                    The mirror shattered to pieces, my grief was hard to bear.
                    I leant on tower balustrades, where my soul melted away;
                    Tried to devise some plan to flee far off to where you were.
                    I recalled every event from the beginning, one by one:
                    How we joined in days past and I loved you in my folly.
                    How you, drunk or sober, were always at my side;
                    Desire moved our loving hearts, you close beside my body.
                    At times you laughed and drew me within the silken curtains;
                    Gold hairpins and jade pendants then would shake and jingle.
                    Under the silken coverlet, after clouds and rain had ceased,
                     Many whispered endearments would bring love's passion again.
                    And so time and again I would surrender my love to you
                    Who'd have known that in a moment you'd leave me behind?
                    Since we are now poles apart, east and west,
                    How much better if, from the start, we had never met?
                    On the Qingming Festival the rain fell everywhere;
                    I sighed by painted railings, for the flowers had no master;
                    The east wind vainly possessed a springtime of emerald peach;
                     I trod on the last red petalsthere was no one to talk to.
                    The cuckoo's cry will break the heart of an abandoned one;
                    I'm ashamed I've lost my virtue, all because of Master Zhou.
                    Then I'd hoped that we together might worship the moon;
                     But I was leftwho'd have known? to grieve alone at dusk.
                    Orioles and swallows, each formed their pairs;
                    Why did Heaven give no mate to me alone?
                    My little sister, Jiaofeng, two years younger than me,
                     Had a fine boy at home then, already two years old.
                    Amid chestnut and lotus scent a southern fragrance came;
                    In cold gardens alone I lookwho here can speak of poetry?
                    In the end I forgot to put the blossoms in my hair;
                    The pendants have long since ceased to swing from the waist of my red skirt.
                    With the west wind falling leaves rustled and whispered;
                    So chill, I could not bear to climb the high tower.
                    Idly I took my painted zither and strummed it once or twice;
                     Who would fill my hair now with the chrysanthemum blooms?
                    Flying snow blew about, the cold made me tremble;
                    Lost in gloom, then I brooded, ailing by my pillow.
                    Under the curtain there was no one who would share my sleep;
                    There was wine in my cup, but no one to drink it with.
                    Those times I sometimes thought that I would tell Aunt Cao;
                    For after Master Zhou left, whom could I deceive?
                    Yet always still I forced myself to enjoy the seasons;
                     And she watched me solitary, my heart lonely and sad.
                    While I toyed with rouge and powder, my heart took no joy in it.
                    At the time of tea or meals I couldn't taste a thing.
                    Savory things I had no mood to bring to my mother's room;
                     How longer could I do my needlework at the window?
                    I'd surrendered my body to you, precious as gold;
                    But where now were the oaths and intentions of times past?
                    For this grievous fault you have made no recompense;
                    But right above you there are gods who will avenge.
                    You've gone south of the river, I remain to the north;
                    A thousand miles of mountains and passes keep us far apart.
                   If I could all at once sprout a pair of wings,
                     I'd fly off then to Wujiang, to be by your side.
                    But now even the sight of your face is impossible for me;
                    My soul, silent before, is now moved to laments and sighs.
                    In the underworld I will express my injustice;
                    To complain against the severing of our conjugal love.
                    When we first were joined, Heaven and Earth knew it well;
                    Now people without number tell of their disapproval . . .
                    [two lines are missing]
                    I resent itthat your crime will send me to my death!
                    It's just as if Heaven above had not given birth to me.
                    And now I send this letter for a former friend to read;
                    Don't bother to send any reply to the place where I dwell.
                    How sad that the family of a noble, armored general
                    Should raise in jade rooms such a girl, lovely as a flower!
                    Just because I well knew the love of books and music,
                    My amorous feelings will in a trice return me to the dust.
                    A long white silken sash will hang me from high rafters;
                    And drifting, lost in a sleep, my soul will then disperse.
                    As soon as it's reported that Jiaoluan has died,
                    The whole town will laugh to scorn the Lin'an Wangs.
                    Oh, how ashamed am I that I was not a good girl!
                    I dared to take too lightly the conduct of the women's chambers.
                    My debt of love is now paidI return to the springs below;
                    Down below in those springs I still will not forgive you.
                    The way you loved me at first is not the way you now behave;
                    And the fury that I have for you is as deep as the sea.
                    I know that my intentions were kind, upright as well
                    Not knowing that your heart was no different than a beast's.
                    So again I take a length of the finest silk
                    And send it sincerely far off to where you are.
                    Alas! That my rise and fall should be due to this!
                    Murder may be forgiven, but never the death of feeling.
                    Over and over I lament, but it still turns out the same;
                    This idle grieving of the past ends with today.
                    If you are still willing to remember our old love,
                    Read to the end this letter that your Jiaoluan sends you.
Tags: 16 век, reading the world, Азия, Китай, английский язык, китайский язык, поэзия, самоубийство, свой голос, судьба женщины

  • Post a new comment


    Comments allowed for members only

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded