May iniisip ka?
Ayaw kong sabihin. Baka magkatotoo.
Dahil makulit ka
Kilala kita. Oo, ikaw 'yun: Nagkasalubong na tayo minsan, sa LRT, sa Gotohan, sa kanto ng Aurora at Katipunan. Nagkatinginan tayo. Hindi mo ako kinausap, pero alam ko, nakilala mo rin ako. Kaya ka narito, di ba? Para sabihing, Oo, oo, ikaw nga 'yun. Naaalala kita.
na, mula noong 24 Enero, 2006, ang nakitambay dito
formal equivalence? dynamic equivalence? inum na lang tayo.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
"In getting into the Han-shan poems, however, I found something that I had not suspected. Prior to that I had translated some T'ang poems as part of class work. Something happened to me that I had not experienced before in the effort of translation, and that was that I found myself forgetting the Chinese and going into a deep interior visualization of what the poem was about.... I had just been a four month's season in the high country of the Sierra Nevada, totally out of touch, supplied every two weeks by a packstring that dropped with groceries, and then left alone to work with rocks, picks, dynamite, and a couple of old men who really knew how to do rockwork and an Indian who was a cook. So when I came back, I was still full of that; and when I went into the Han-shan poems, when he talked about a cobbly stream, or he talked about the pine-wind, I wasn't just thinking about 'pine-wind' in Chinese and then 'pine-wind' in English, but I was hearing it, hearing the wind.... (T)he strategy ultimately is this: You know the words... in the original context, so drop them and now remember what it looks like to look at cloudy mountains and see what they look like, in your mind-- go deep into your mind and see what's happening: an interior visualization of the poem, which means of course that you have to draw on your senses, your recollection of your senses. And it certainly helps if you've had some sensory experiences in your life, to have that deep storehouse to pull it out of and re-experience it from, or if you can't re-experience it, go out and look at it again."
-Gary Snyder (comments at a "Chinese Poetry" symposium) from The New Directions Anthology of Classical Chinese Poetry
from Cold Mountain Poems Han Shan
In my first thirty years of life I roamed hundreds and thousands of miles. Walked by rivers through deep green grass Entered cities of boiling red dust. Tried drugs, but couldn't make Immortal; Read books and wrote poems on history. Today I'm back at Cold Mountain: I'll sleep by the creek and purify my ears.
trans. Gary Snyder
Sepulturero Michael M. Coroza
Ayon sa isang pilosopo, wala kang kaibhan sa iyong hinuhukay: kapwa ninyo hindi kilala ang inyong nilululon o ang inyong isinusuka. Marahil totoo
ang kanyang bintang at sadyang hindi ka masasaktan tulad ng lupa na hindi nagdurugo sa pag-aararo ng magsasaka o pagpapasabog ng minero
o pagbubungkal ng ambisyong magtayo ng edipisyo. Ano pa nga ba naman ang dapat mong malaman? Sa dulo ng iyong piko at pala, patas lahat
ang iyong nakikita: lupang nagpuputik sa buhos ng lungkot, maalikabok, nakapamumuwing kung natuyot sa paglimot. Batid mo ang nakatakda:
walang hindi aangkinin ang lupa; magiging isang libingan ang mundo at susuko lahat sa iyong pagpapala; huwag lamang itutulot na mangyari
ang kutob ng matatanda na tulad sa simula, malulusaw ang banal na awa at ang lupa ay magiging isang dambuhalang patak ng luha.
Gravedigger Michael M. Coroza
A philosopher once said, you are not any different from that which you dig: both of you know not whom you swallow or throw up. Perhaps it is true,
what the philosopher claims, and truly you feel no pain like the land that does not bleed when tilled by farmers or when blasted by miners
or when plowed by ambitions to put up edifices. What else, indeed, do you need to know? At the end of pick and shovel, everything is equal,
as you see them: soil caking from torrent of sadness, dust-ridden, blinding us as it dries up from forgetfulness. You know what is fated:
nothing escapes the earth; the world will become a graveyard and all will succumb to your shovel, your blessing. Pray, though, that it does not happen—
the old portent that as it was in the beginning, compassion, sacred, will dissolve, while the land turns into a gigantic teardrop.
trans. Mikael de Lara Co
Lagnat Adam Zagajewski
Pilipinas, parang tuyong lagnat sa labi ng mga lumisan. Pilipinas, mapang naipit sa ilalim ng mga batong tumitimbuwang mula sa tuktok ng mga bundok. Huwag lilimutin ang unang pagtapak sa buhangin, ulan, ang makahiyang nakakuyom sa madaling-araw; ang maaalat na katinig ng bawat sumpa at mura; pag-aralan ang poot, gusgusing kumot ng pagkaligaw; alalahanin ang lahat ng nagdurugtong at bumibiyak. Pilipinas, bayan ng mga taong hindi mailigtas ng kanilang mga ngiti. Maamong usang sinisipat ng mangangaso. Makatang di makatakas sa kanyang pagdurusa. Lupaing walang tinik, kumpisal na walang kasalanan. Kung mapag-iisa ka lamang. Dinggin ang awit ng paganong uwak. Umaagos ang halimuyak mula sa namumukadkad na mga palayan, kayrahas na pangitain.