Appreciation of the classic poem "[France] Verlaine Autumn Song"
Long-lasting sobs,
Autumn
Fan Oh Ling
Stung me
Melancholy
A withered heart.
Suffocating, everything,
So pale again,
The bells are ringing,
I remember
Days of the past
I couldn’t help but shed tears.
I am like a canopy
Let the evil wind
Send me wandering
North of the sea and south of the sky,
Like a
dead leaf.
(Translated by Luo Luo)
Verlaine's poems paid attention to the beauty of music. He believed that poetry should "first be music", and "Autumn Song" is a representative example. The whole poem is divided into three sections. The lines are arranged in an orderly manner, and the rhythm and rhyme are natural. The external rhythm and the internal emotional rhythm tend to be consistent, "as smooth and graceful as the undulating melody of a violin" (Luo Luo). Although some people say that poetry is untranslatable, the American poet Frost even declared, "Poetry is what is lost in translation." A large part of this lost thing certainly refers to the musicality of poetry, plus the Chinese, The two languages ??of France and France belong to different language families and are very distantly related. It is particularly difficult to translate poetry to preserve the original style. However, due to the poor management of the translator, we can still appreciate the musical beauty of the original work from the Chinese translation to a certain extent.
This poem is included in Verlaine's first collection of poems, "Melancholic Poems", published in 1866. The author was only twenty-two years old at the time, and it was the spring of life that was as crystal clear as morning dew. The young Verlaine was singing "Autumn Song" in a melancholy voice, which seemed incomprehensible. However, as long as we understand the social reality in France at that time, we will clearly feel a lonely and depressed soul trembling from the lines of the poem, and we can strongly understand the heavy depression and depression caused by the sinful society in the poet's heart. sad. How can you not be sad when you are feeling the times? How much more solitary at the end of the world? How much more desolate and fluttering, so there is "Autumn Song".
The first sentence "long sobs" is the keynote of the whole article. I just don't know whether this sob is the sad vibrato of Fan Oling (the transliteration of violin) or the sad sound of nature in the cold autumn? Whether it is the sound of the piano or the sound of nature, The poet's melancholy and lonely heart was stabbed by it. In this suffocating frosty sky, the desolate bells suddenly came again, and it was really a wave of ups and downs. Most ordinary people will hear the sound of bells many times in their lives. From the time they are babies to the time they are baptized in a church and hear the bells for the first time, they ring in their ears on many bright and dark days year after year. I wonder how Zhang Ji, a Tang Dynasty man, felt when he heard the midnight bells of Hanshan Temple outside Gusu City on a passenger ship. When the French poet was in ruins at the end of the world, he could not help but shed tears when he heard the sound of the bells and reflected on the past. His heart was hurt and tears fell. After learning from the pain, the poet deeply felt that his wandering life experience was like a clump of fluffy grass blowing in the wind, just like a dead leaf that was damaged by the wind.
Perhaps, people will inevitably encounter some ups and downs of fate and emotional twists and turns in their lives, especially in the late autumn of life, when they have gained experience and become more and more old-fashioned. Reading this poem again will inevitably produce a strong * **Ming. In addition, it is rich in musical beauty and catchy, so it is deeply loved by readers and has become widely circulated. But this poem is too sad after all. We might as well compare it with the work of Chang Yao, a contemporary Chinese western poet. A poem written by Chang Yao after he became a "rightist" and was exiled to the frontier: Above his head is the direct sunlight at noon, / Under his feet is the barren desert, / The eagle's shadow is like a broad leaf floating in, / Rotating, escaping... In the image of fallen leaves, there is no trace of the misery of the downtrodden, but only the tragic feelings of an unjust soldier. And what we should advocate today is probably the latter.
(Mao Han Guo Liangyuan)