L
Liz S
Guest
...struggling for so long!? When Hope Comes Back
Gu Cheng
translated by Donald Finkel and Sheng-Tai Chang
There’s nothing left.
The southwest wind’s already landed.
The sky’s alive with gulls.
The evening's shaken out the waves,
5- folded one hapless mast neatly in two.
Flounder swim imperturbably,
uninvited, through the skull of a ship.
Gleaming like coins, their eyes recall
an army of shopkeepers.
10- There's nothing left.
The lamp turns to a firefly in my hand
and darts through the darkness. The last patient candle
topples to the ground, kindling a cry of delight.
A fire blazes up and spreads until
15- the child who before was afraid of the dark
now shrieks at this strange conflagration and scampers home.
Curled in a ball, he hides one spark in his dream
while, humming softly, his mother closes the shutters.
There’s nothing left.
20- The sea is black as a hole,
the squid’s insidious ink swirls into the sky,
the screaming seagulls urge the storm clouds on.
Only the tree can’t fly. Stricken by lightning,
thrashing its tormented feathers,
25- the olive tree wants to demolish the sky.
There’s nothing left.
Nothing? Really?
Tell me. The warm earth shimmers.
“There’s more,” you say, in your low, melodious voice
30- as the river trembles in a lightning flash
and vanishes. “There’s more.”
As if the world were a small black boy
who’d wept too long, you comfort him
like an older sister, and smooth his dripping hair.
35- “There’s more.”
You whisper it in his ear while the world sleeps calmly,
while motherless birds crowd sleeping together
and the sea leans against the shoulder of the cliff.
He sleeps on quietly. Quietly.
40- From far away, a solitary star approaches.
It wants to stand beneath his window on the lawn
and learn how to commune with the taciturn grass.
“There’s more. More”
The world will wake at daybreak, fully grown.
45- His eyes will flash a grown-up smile. Yes.
Outside, the sun will anchor in the harbor.
The East will redden, blushing, little by little.
She’ll have caught sight of the world
and fallen in love like a schoolgirl.
50- The dripping bush will be crowned with flowers.
Hope’s back.
What more can I ask?
Can you please help me with the following question? I’ve been struggling with this for awhile. Thanks a lot.
Question: Would Gu Cheng’s poem be better or worse without the repeated sentences “There’s nothing left” and “There’s more”? Explain.
Gu Cheng
translated by Donald Finkel and Sheng-Tai Chang
There’s nothing left.
The southwest wind’s already landed.
The sky’s alive with gulls.
The evening's shaken out the waves,
5- folded one hapless mast neatly in two.
Flounder swim imperturbably,
uninvited, through the skull of a ship.
Gleaming like coins, their eyes recall
an army of shopkeepers.
10- There's nothing left.
The lamp turns to a firefly in my hand
and darts through the darkness. The last patient candle
topples to the ground, kindling a cry of delight.
A fire blazes up and spreads until
15- the child who before was afraid of the dark
now shrieks at this strange conflagration and scampers home.
Curled in a ball, he hides one spark in his dream
while, humming softly, his mother closes the shutters.
There’s nothing left.
20- The sea is black as a hole,
the squid’s insidious ink swirls into the sky,
the screaming seagulls urge the storm clouds on.
Only the tree can’t fly. Stricken by lightning,
thrashing its tormented feathers,
25- the olive tree wants to demolish the sky.
There’s nothing left.
Nothing? Really?
Tell me. The warm earth shimmers.
“There’s more,” you say, in your low, melodious voice
30- as the river trembles in a lightning flash
and vanishes. “There’s more.”
As if the world were a small black boy
who’d wept too long, you comfort him
like an older sister, and smooth his dripping hair.
35- “There’s more.”
You whisper it in his ear while the world sleeps calmly,
while motherless birds crowd sleeping together
and the sea leans against the shoulder of the cliff.
He sleeps on quietly. Quietly.
40- From far away, a solitary star approaches.
It wants to stand beneath his window on the lawn
and learn how to commune with the taciturn grass.
“There’s more. More”
The world will wake at daybreak, fully grown.
45- His eyes will flash a grown-up smile. Yes.
Outside, the sun will anchor in the harbor.
The East will redden, blushing, little by little.
She’ll have caught sight of the world
and fallen in love like a schoolgirl.
50- The dripping bush will be crowned with flowers.
Hope’s back.
What more can I ask?
Can you please help me with the following question? I’ve been struggling with this for awhile. Thanks a lot.
Question: Would Gu Cheng’s poem be better or worse without the repeated sentences “There’s nothing left” and “There’s more”? Explain.