A moment ago learned forum in Sohu English, see " Mo Qingcheng " a card of the netizen, the Su Shi that introduces his him interpreter " Jiangchen child the first month of the lunar year of · second the fourth of the twelve Earthly Branches 20 remember a dream day and night " . Above all I must point out, the flower interpret of poetry of Chinese ancient time, it is the job of a tall difficulty, translator must have the many sided attainment such as musical sound of archaic Chinese, English, poetry, sound. Candid ground is told, I myself did not reach this kind of level far, and observe according to me, it is on forum of a few main English study, can reach the person of this kind of level, very few also and very few, so I express the feeling of my admiration to this netizen above all.

But on the other hand, I think " Mo Qingcheng " the netizen's translation has two apparent weakness, this kind of defect even if the person with English not high level, also can see easily, this is: The first, english translation is beyond the mark and constrained at Chinese textual, textual every medium Chinese character, have corresponding English word almost, consequently English translation appears more expatiatory; The 2nd, the certain word in English translation, too formal, do not suit to be used in poetry, for instance Ignorant, Recognize, Presume, consequently literal style appears some are not harmonious. I want to recommend this Gu Ci that Burton Watson of home of American famous Sinology translates here, you can be compared, his translation is more succinct, the style is more unified also.

Chinese is textual:

10 years of life and death two boundless and indistinct, not consider, from unforgettable. Gu of a thousand li is graveyard, nowhere the word is desolate. Even if meets should not know, dirt is full of, hair on the temples is like frost.

Evening arrives deep and remote dream ignore return to native place, small Xuan Chuang, dress and make up. Consider reticent, only tear 1000. Expect bowel is broken year after year place, bright moon night, short Song Gang.

Mo Qingcheng's translation:

For Ten Years The Living And The Dead Are Both Ignorant Of Each Other.

Even Though I Refrain From Thinking Of You,

However I Cannot Forget You.

Your Lonely Tomb Lies A Thousand Miles Away,

Where Can I Pour My Sorrows Anyway?

Even If We Meet Again, you Can Hardly Recognize Me By The Way,

For My Face Is Fully Covered With Dust,

And My Temples Have As Frost Turned Grey.

Last Night I Suddenly Dreamed Of Returing To My Native Land.

I Saw You Sitting By The Tiny Window,

Dressing And Making Up With Your White Hand.

We Looked At Each Other, unable To Speak A Word,

Only A Thousand Lines Of Tears Rolled Down Our Faces.

I Presume You Will Lie In That Heartbreaking Place Year After Year,

In That Small Round Covered With Pines Mere,
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