Chinese Female Poets: English Translations VI

CHINESE FEMALE POETS: ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS Creamy Melons by Chao Luan-Luan translation by Michael R. Burch Scented with talcum, moist with perspiration, like pegs of jade inlaid in a harp, aroused by desire, yet soft as cream, fertile amid a warm mist after my bath, as my lover perfumes them, cups them and plays with them, cool as melons and purple grapes. Life in the Palace by Lady Hua Jui translation by Michael R. Burch At the first of the month money to buy flowers for several thousand waiting women was awarded to the palaces. But when my name was called, I was not there because I was occupied lasciviously posing before the emperor’s bed. The End of Spring by Li Ch’ing-Chao translation by Michael R. Burch The wind ceases, now nothing is left of Spring but fragrant pollen. Although it’s late in the day, I’ve been too exhausted to comb my hair. The furniture remains the same but he no longer exists leaving me unable to move. When I try to speak, tears choke me. I hear that Spring is still beautiful at Two Rivers and I had hoped to take a boat there, but now I’m afraid that my little boat will never reach Two Rivers, so laden with heavy sorrow. To the tune of “I Paint My Lips Red” by Li Ch’ing-Chao translation by Michael R. Burch After swinging and kicking lasciviously, I get off to rouge my palms. Like dew on a delicate flower, perspiration soaks my thin dress. A new guest enters and my stockings flop, my hairpins fall out. Pretending embarrassment, I flee, then lean flirtatiously against the door, sucking a green plum. Spring Night, to the tune of “Panning Gold” by Chu Shu-Chen translation by Michael R. Burch My jade body remains as lovely as that long-ago evening when, for the first time, you turned me away from the lamplight to unfasten the belt of my embroidered skirt. Now our sheets and pillows have grown cold and that evening’s incense has faded. Beyond the shuttered courtyard even Spring seems silent, forlorn. Flowers wilt with the rain these long evenings. Agony enters my dreams, making me all the more helpless and hopeless. The Letter by Shao Fei-fei translation by Michael R. Burch I trim the wick, then, weeping by lamplight, write this letter, to be sealed, then sent ten thousand miles, telling you how wretched I am, and begging you to free my aching body. Dear mother, what has become of my bride price? Keywords/Tags: Female Chinese Poets, English Translations, flower, woman, women, wife, girl, sorrow, melons, letter, body