Under the Bodhi tree

菩提樹下

誰是心裏藏著鏡子的人呢？ 誰肯赤著腳踏過他底一生呢？ 所有的眼都給眼矇住了 誰能於雪中取火，且鑄火為雪？ 在菩提樹下。一個只有半個面孔的人 抬眼向天，以嘆息回答 那欲自高處沉沉俯向他的蔚藍。

是的，這兒已經有人坐過！ 草色凝碧。縱使在冬季 縱使結趺者底跫音已遠逝 你依然有枕著萬籟 與風月底背面相對密談的欣喜。

坐斷幾個春天？ 又坐熟多少夏日？ 當你來時，雪是雪，你是你 一宿之後，雪既非雪，你亦非你 直到零下十年的今夜 當第一顆流星騞然重明

你乃驚見： 雪還是雪，你還是你 雖然結趺者底跫音已遠逝 唯草色凝碧。

作者謹按： 佛於菩提樹下，夜觀流星，成無上正覺。

— 選自《還魂草》文星書店1965年初版

我在國立台灣大學的《創意翻譯工作坊：臺灣當代詩歌之英譯》課程中開始翻譯詩的旅程。我的老師喬直（George O’Connell ）和史春波（Diana Shi）同時也有自己的journal ，若有興趣看老師們或是工作坊中的其他作品，歡迎參觀。

這篇作品因為後續沒有在課堂選入討論，在徵得老師同意之後，我自行編輯潤稿，並發佈到個人部落格上。

Under the Bodhi tree

Who hides a mirror in his mind? Who could go barefoot through life? The sight is blocked by eyes. Who could ignite the snow, and freeze the fire? Under the Bodhi tree, a half-face man looks up to the sky, sighing to the azure which swoops down from high.

Someone has sat here before. Grass is still green, even in winter. Even the meditator goes far, you enjoy the little bliss of the secret talk behind. Resting your head on the wind and the moon’s gentle music.

You sit, when springs have passed and summers have elapsed. When you come, snow is the snow and you are you. When the night ends, that’s no longer snow, and you no more. After ten years, when the first meteor lights up tonight,

you realize: that snow is the snow, and you are still you. Far goes the meditator yet green still be the grass.

Author’s note: Buddha sitting under the Bodhi tree. He admires the meteor at night, and is thus enlightened.

— translated from Chou Meng Tieh (周夢蝶)’s The Grass of returning souls (還魂草), 1st edition published by Wen Xing (文星書店)

I worked on the translation last year when I was working with creative writing poetry translation workshop in NTU; the workshop was led by editors George O’Connell and Diana Shi. This piece was not further discussed and rendered by the workshop at the time, so I refined and published it here under my own name.

For works that are collectively discussed, rendered and published, you’re welcome to have a look at the journal .