(no subject)
Apr. 28th, 2011 06:35 amChinese Folk Song, by an anonymous poet
translated by Cecilia Liang
Black ravens squawking in the nest.
Everybody says I have too many sisters.
Ten aren't many.
First sister marries a carpenter.
Wooden beams hold up the roof.
Second marries a bamboo cutter.
Our wet clothes dry on poles.
Third sister marries a fisherman.
Fish, shrimp and crabs go in the soup.
Fourth sister marries a weaver.
We're wearing silk and satin.
Fifth one marries a beancake man.
Starch the clothes in soybean milk.
Sixth sister marries a butcher.
Bean paste fries in lard.
Seventh marries a painter.
The table's painted, the bed's red.
Eighth sister marries a watchman.
Every night he drums you to bed.
Ninth sister marries a tailor.
Measures us for a dress.
Tenth sister marries a farmer.
Piles of rice,
piles of wood,
piles of husks.
translated by Cecilia Liang
Black ravens squawking in the nest.
Everybody says I have too many sisters.
Ten aren't many.
First sister marries a carpenter.
Wooden beams hold up the roof.
Second marries a bamboo cutter.
Our wet clothes dry on poles.
Third sister marries a fisherman.
Fish, shrimp and crabs go in the soup.
Fourth sister marries a weaver.
We're wearing silk and satin.
Fifth one marries a beancake man.
Starch the clothes in soybean milk.
Sixth sister marries a butcher.
Bean paste fries in lard.
Seventh marries a painter.
The table's painted, the bed's red.
Eighth sister marries a watchman.
Every night he drums you to bed.
Ninth sister marries a tailor.
Measures us for a dress.
Tenth sister marries a farmer.
Piles of rice,
piles of wood,
piles of husks.