Sophy Poetry Translation C-E
You said that painting is the birds chirping, well what about your home
In the afternoon, you woke suddenly, and my brother,
you suddenly woke up. Your warm hands
woke a group of larks chirping
in your eyebrows.
Your brown beard, on the bank of the Seine,
became the dark shade of the dense grasses.
The sun sprinkling straight down, its rays like
the orange juice and red plum flowers
are suddenly blossoming as the rain splashing out
You said that the world is
the fire the soil billet made
flying on the back of the birds!
In your wineglass, your wine swinging as the blooming purple Iris,
in a breeze as if
a maiden on waves with an umbrella is giving a flying kiss to the Mediterranean;
You are fire;
You are holding the flame of the poet.
is nothing besides a sunbeam!
Your eyes are shining alone in the night sky
The flowers are blooming sequentially, in your eyes;
Quietly, in your eyes the flowers are singing
as a group of larks; At nightfall,
they paired with a group of nightingales in lighting;
At the moment, you
in the faint moonlight,
in the dawn of Harvard Port and the snow of Ai Biscay Mountains
look like a pair of sailors with the green lily leaves in their hands,
well, your home is located in the heart of Mediterranean.
Surely, there is a water lily,
With red flowers and green leaves, your home is
in human’s impression.
Those birds are
warmly, beating their wings as the Sun Rain beating on the top of house.
Your warm hands, my brother, your warm hands
spins the Europa
and the world into a waltz. The blue sea,
your water lily,
those birds, my brother, and your water lily.
(Translated by Sophy Chen) 2012-06-10