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transl<strong>at</strong>ion, a transl<strong>at</strong>or is engaged in rendering<br />

the poetry <strong>of</strong> a foreign language into the target<br />

language as faithfully as possible. In Pound’s<br />

career as a transl<strong>at</strong>or, he seems to have engaged in<br />

all three forms <strong>of</strong> transl<strong>at</strong>ion. Usually, the three<br />

forms <strong>of</strong> transl<strong>at</strong>ion blend with one another. He<br />

himself seems to have admitted to this blending.<br />

In his transl<strong>at</strong>ion <strong>of</strong> Guido’ poetry, for example,<br />

he tried to be faithful to the original poems, but he<br />

did not hesit<strong>at</strong>e to make changes: “I give the<br />

Italian to show th<strong>at</strong> there is no deception, I have<br />

invented nothing, I have given a verbal weight<br />

about equal to th<strong>at</strong> <strong>of</strong> the original, and arrived <strong>at</strong><br />

this equality by dropping a couple <strong>of</strong> syllables per<br />

line.” 9<br />

My examin<strong>at</strong>ion <strong>of</strong> Pound’s transl<strong>at</strong>ion <strong>of</strong> the<br />

Shijing informs me th<strong>at</strong> he too was blending the<br />

three forms <strong>of</strong> transl<strong>at</strong>ion in his Chinese project. I<br />

will cite a few <strong>of</strong> his transl<strong>at</strong>ed versions to<br />

illustr<strong>at</strong>e his three views <strong>of</strong> transl<strong>at</strong>ion. First, I<br />

will cite an example <strong>of</strong> cre<strong>at</strong>ive transl<strong>at</strong>ion. This is<br />

Poem 167 in the Shijing. Pound’s version first<br />

appeared in 1915 in C<strong>at</strong>hay. A comparison <strong>of</strong><br />

Pound’s version with Arthur Waley’s version<br />

shows th<strong>at</strong> it is r<strong>at</strong>her free and should be regarded<br />

as a recre<strong>at</strong>ive transl<strong>at</strong>ion:<br />

Poem 167<br />

Pound’s Transl<strong>at</strong>ion<br />

Pick a fern, pick a fern, ferns are high,<br />

“Home,” I’ll say: home, the year’s gone by,<br />

no house, no ro<strong>of</strong>, these huns <strong>of</strong> the ho<strong>of</strong>.<br />

Work, work, work, th<strong>at</strong>’s how it runs,<br />

We are here because <strong>of</strong> these huns.<br />

Pick a fern, pick a fern, s<strong>of</strong>t as they come,<br />

I’ll say “Home.”<br />

Hungry all <strong>of</strong> us, thirsty here,<br />

no home news for nearly a year.<br />

Pick a fern, pick a fern, if they scr<strong>at</strong>ch,<br />

I’ll say “Home,” wh<strong>at</strong>’s the c<strong>at</strong>ch?<br />

I’ll say “Go home,” now October’s come.<br />

King wants us to give it all,<br />

no rest, spring, summer, winter, fall,<br />

Sorrow to us, sorrow to you.<br />

we won’t get out <strong>of</strong> here till we’re through.<br />

When it’s cherry-time with you,<br />

we’ll see the captain’s car go thru,<br />

four big horses to pull th<strong>at</strong> load.<br />

th<strong>at</strong>’s wh<strong>at</strong> comes along the road,<br />

wh<strong>at</strong> do you call three fights a month,<br />

and won ’em all?<br />

Four car-horses strong and tall<br />

and the boss who can drive ’em all<br />

as we slog along beside his car,<br />

ivory bow-tips and shagreen case<br />

to say nothing <strong>of</strong> wh<strong>at</strong> we face<br />

sloggin’ along in the Hien-yün war.<br />

Willows were green when we set out,<br />

it’s blowin’ an’ snowin’ as we go<br />

down this road, muddy and slow,<br />

hungry and thirsty and blue as doubt<br />

(no one feels half <strong>of</strong> wh<strong>at</strong> we know). 10<br />

Waley’s Transl<strong>at</strong>ion<br />

We pluck the bracken, pluck the bracken<br />

While the young shoots were springing up.<br />

Oh, to go back, go back!<br />

<strong>The</strong> year is ending.<br />

We have no house, no home<br />

Because <strong>of</strong> the Xian-yun.<br />

We cannot rest or bide<br />

Because <strong>of</strong> the Xian-yun.<br />

We pluck the bracken, pluck the bracken<br />

While the shoots were s<strong>of</strong>t.<br />

Oh, to go back, go back!<br />

Our hearts are sad,<br />

Our sad hearts burn,<br />

We are hungry and thirsty,<br />

But our campaign is not over,<br />

Nor is any <strong>of</strong> us sent home with news.<br />

We pluck the bracken, pluck the bracken<br />

But the shoots were hard.<br />

Oh, to go back, go back!<br />

<strong>The</strong> year is running out.<br />

But the king’s business never ends;<br />

We cannot rest or bide.<br />

Our sad hearts are very bitter;<br />

We went, but do not come.<br />

Transl<strong>at</strong>ion Review 49

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