Li Shang-yin. Vertaling in Afrikaans.
Monday, August 16th, 2021
Li Shang-yin. Vertaling van Engels in Afrikaans. Vert. deur Helize van Vuuren.
Die herinnerings-inskripsie deur Han Yü
Die Yüan-ho Keiser het beskik oor ‘n militêre voorkoms:
wat was hy anders as ‘n Wadrywer of Temmer van Wildediere?
Hy het gesweer om die skandes van sy heilige voorgangers weg te wis,
om geregtigheid aan die Hof hoog te hou, en die barbare hulde te laat betoon.
In die land wes van die Huai was daar vyftig jaar lank rebelle:
groot wolwe het wilde katte gebaar, wilde katte het bere gebaar.
Hul het nie die berge of riviere nie, maar die oop vlakte beset;
lang spiese en skerp lanse is elke dag uitgehaal.
Die Keiser het ‘n wyse premier aangestel; sy naam was Tu;
hy het ‘n sluipmoordenaarsmes oorleef, want die gode het hom beskerm.
Toegerus met die premier se stempel, is hy hoof-kommandeur gemaak
toe die donker wind koud gewaai het op die hemelse koning se baniere.
Su, Wu, Ku, en T’ung het sy tande en kloue geword;
die sekretaris van die Ministerie van Rites het gevolg met sy skryfborsel.
Die militêre adviseur was nie net wys nie maar dapper;
die honderd-en-veertig duisend soldate was soos tiers en luiperds.
Hulle het Ts’ai binnegegaan, die rebel gevang, en hom ge-offer
aan die Voorouerlike Tempel;
Hul meriete is tydig beloon, en keiserlike gunste is nie teruggehou nie.
Die Keiser het gepraat: “Jy, Tu, is die eerste en voorste in meriete,
en dis gepas dat jou raadsman, Yü, ‘n rekord moet op stel.”
Yü het sy kop na die grond gebuig en die seremoniële dans uitgevoer:
“Om ‘n inskripsie te skryf in brons of klip is wat u dienaar kan doen.
In die ou dae is so ‘n stuk ‘n magnum opus genoem:
hierdie saak hang nie af van die wat normaalweg in beheer is nie.
Van antieke tye af, is daar nobele take wat nie geweier kan word nie!”
Toe hy klaar gepraat het, het die Keiser oor en oor geknik.
Die Meester het hom teruggetrek, gevas, en in ‘n klein kamertjie gesit,
en hy het sy borsel in ink gedoop – hoe ryklik het dit gevloei!
Hy het woorde aangepas uit die Dokument van Yao en die Dokument van Shun;
hy het reëls verander uit die Suiwer Tempel en die Geboorte van Ons Mense.
Toe hy klaar gekomponeer het, het hy dit neergeskryf in ‘n oorspronklike hand:
vroeg die volgende oggend, twee maal buigend, het hy dit
op die vermiljoen trappe uitgesprei,
en gepraat: “U dienaar, Yü, die dood uitdagend, bied dit aan.”
Die loflied op die Keiser se goddelike sukses was gekerf in klip;
die klip was dertig voet hoog, met woorde so groot soos gerwe,
gedra deur ‘n heilige skilpad, met ‘n horinglose draak kronkelend bo-op.
Die reëls was treffend, die woorde plegtig; dié wat begryp het, min.
Toe het skindernuus die Seun van die Hemel bereik, dat dit partydig was.
‘n Honderd-voet tou het die tablet afgetrek;
met growwe gruis is die woorde op die groot klip afgevryf.
Maar die Meester se geskrif, soos die natuur se lewendige krag,
het reeds in die harte van mense ingedring;
soos met die motto’s van T’ang se Kom en K’ung se Driepoot,
is die voorwerpe self nie langer daar nie, maar die woorde bly leef.
O, die wyse Keiser en die wyse premier
het in glorie saam gestraal en suiwer lig agtergelaat!
As die Meester se geskrif nie bewaar is vir toekomstige eeue nie,
hoe kan hul dade bekend wees, volgens Die Drie en Die Vyf?
Ek wil tien duisend kopieë daarvan maak, dit net soveel keer voordra,
Tot spoeg drup uit die kante van my mond, my regterhand vereelt!
Mag dit nagelaat word twee-en-sewentig eeue lank
om diens te doen as die Jade Etiket en dien as brandoffer aan Berg T’ai,
fondament van die Saal van Lig!
– Li Shang-yin (c. 813–85)
***
“The Memorial inscription by Han Yü” is ‘n gedig van Li-Shang-yi, uit James J.Y. Liu se The poetry of Li Shang-yin. Ninth-Century Baroque Chinese Poet (University of Chigao press, Chicago & Londen, 1969).
In sy kommentaar skryf Liu dat die gedig as een van Li Shang-yin se belangrikste bydraes beskou word. Dit oorstyg die onmiddellike historiese konteks en word ‘n digter se bydrae tot die kuns wat hy dien (“a poet’s tribute to the art he serves”, 1969:194-5):
The poem is not only a personal tribute to Han Yü but also a vindication of the power of literature. The poet is concerned not so much with recounting the historical events which led to the writing of the memorial inscription as with tracing the fate of the inscription itself. It is only when we realize this that we can understand the structure of the poem (…) The style of the poem is lofty and rugged, in imitation of Han’s own style. The deliberately loose syntax and repetition of words) add to the impression of archaism and clumsiness. Nevertheless, there are some striking images and hyperboles.
***
The Memorial Inscription by Han Yü
The Yüan-ho Emperor was endowed with martial mien:
What was he but another Charioteer or Tamer of Beasts?
He vowed to wash away the shames of his holy predecessors,
To uphold the law at Court, and make the barbarians pay homage.
In the land west of the Huai there had been rebels for fifty years:
Big wolves begot wild cats; wild cats begot bears.
They did not occupy mountains or rivers but occupied the flat plain;
Long spears and sharp lances were marshaled every day.
The Emperor obtained a sage premier; the premier was called Tu;
He had survived an assassin’s knife, for the gods protected him.
Carrying the premier’s seal, he was made commander-in-chief,
As the gloomy wind coldly blew on the heavenly king’s banners.
Su, Wu, Ku, and T’ung became his teeth and claws;
The secretary from the Ministry of Rites followed with his writing brush.
The military adviser was not only wise but brave;
The forty hundred thousand soldiers were like tigers and leopards.
They entered Ts’ai, caputred the rebel, and offered him to the Ancestral Temple:
Their merits were duly rewarded, and imperial favors were not stinted.
The Emperor spoke: “You, Tu, are first and foremost in merit,
And it is meet that your counselor Yü should indite a record.”
Yü bowed his head to the ground and performed the ceremonial dance:
“To write an inscription for bronze or stone is what your servant can do.
In olden days, such a piece was called magnum opus:
This affair does not depend on those normally in charge.
Since ancient times, there have been tasks too noble to decline!”
When he finished speaking, the Emperor nodded again and again.
The Master withdrew, fasted, and sat in a small chamber,
And dipped his brush in ink – how richly did it flow!
He adapted words from the Document of Yao and the Document of Shun;
He altered lines from the Pure Temnple and the Birth of Our People.
When he finished composing, he wrote it down in an original hand:
Early next morning, bowing twice, he spread it on the vermilion steps,
And spoke: “Your servant Yu, risking death, presents this.”
This eulogy of the Emperor’s divine success was carved on stone;
The stone was thirty feet high, with words as big as bushels,
Carried by a sacred tortoise, with a hornless dragon coiling on top.
Then slander reached the Son of Heaven that it was biased.
A hundred-foot rope pulled the tablet down;
With rough gravel the words on the big stone were rubbed off.
But the Master’s writing, like the vital force of nature,
Had already penetrated into people’s hearts:
As with the mottoes on T’ang’s Basin and K’ung’s Tripod,
The objects are no longer there, but the words remain still.
Oh, the sage Emperor and the sage premier
Shone together in glory and left pure light behind!
If the Master’s writing is not preserved for future ages,
How can their deeds be known, following The Three and the Five?
I wish to write ten thousand copies of it, recite it as many times,
Till saliva drips from the corners of my mouth, my right hand callous!
May it be handed down for seventy-two ages,
To be used as the Jade Label to sacrifice to Mount T’ai,
the foundation of the Hall of Light!
– Li Shang-yin (c. 813–85)
©Afrikaanse vertaling Helize van Vuuren, 16 Augustus 2021.
