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《中華人文（2018第1輯）》是一本譯介中國當代作傢作品兼顧中國當代藝術的全英文圖書。本書以兼容並蓄的精神擇選稿件，旨在嚮英語世界譯介中華人文，特彆是中國當代文學創作的優秀成果，弘揚中華人文精神，促進中華文化交流。

內容簡介

本輯主推作傢是葉彌，共收錄瞭葉彌的三篇短篇小說《明月寺》《雪花禪》和《香爐山》》、一篇訪談和一篇評論。本輯新增欄目“經典迴聲”，介紹瞭老子（包括《道德經》的部分翻譯和一篇與此相關的文章。

作者簡介

主編
楊昊成
江蘇宜興人，1963年生。博士，教授，江蘇省外國文學學會會員，江蘇省外國語言學會會員，南京市翻譯傢協會會員，南京師範大學外國語學院美國文明研究所所長，全英文期刊Chinese Arts and Letters（《中華人文》）主編。

目錄

Editor’s Note
by Yang Haocheng （楊昊成）
Featured Author: Ye Mi （葉彌）
Bright Moon Temple （《明月寺》）
Snowflake Meditation （《雪花禪》）
Mount Xianglu （《香爐山》）
Critique
The Enlightened Way of Fiction by Zhang Xuexin （張學昕）
Interview
An Interview with Ye Mi by Jin Ying （金瑩）
Culture & Heritage
The Essentials of Chinese Calligraphy by Yang Haocheng （楊昊成）
Echoes of Classics
Introduction to Laozi and His Daodejing by Bill Porter
Selections from Daodejing
Short Stories
Wealth, Blessings and Longevity （《福祿壽》） by Pang Yu
（龐羽）
Prose
Bluestone Alleys （《青石小街》） by Fei Zhenzhong （費振鍾）
Rain in the Old Village （《古村的雨》） by Fei Zhenzhong
（費振鍾）
Poems
Poems by Hu Xian （鬍弦）
Art
Coffee Pot or Water Jug? by Shen Li （瀋黎）

精彩書摘

Bright Moon Temple

Ye Mi /葉 彌

Translated by Ella Schwalb

In springtime, when the sunshine was goading all kinds of flowers to struggle into bloom, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and left home. I wanted to go see

the blossoms. The season was sure to lose its pristine sparkle in two weeks’ time—many flowers would start to wilt on their branches, and petals would fall to the dust in droves. So I wanted to take it all in before the spring turned dull and dirty, to see how the flowers blossomed. Once this moment passed, would there be anything left blooming for me to see?

My aim was simple. I squinted in the sun as it shone down on my face, and then I leisurely set out, heading south.

I got to some mountains after a while. Peach blossoms stretched as far as the eye could see, and the earth and sky were all flooded with sun as the sweet wind drifted by above the flowering trees. In the soft, warm chuckle of that all-pervasive

sunshine, I ceased to exist, my steps light and buoyant as though I were the sun’s own two feet.

I was walking along when someone behind me said,“Hey there, where are you headed?”

I turned around and saw a swarthy old villager with a stick-straight back walking behind me.

“I’m taking a springtime walk,” I said.

I hung back a bit, and the old man caught up to me.

“You’ve come from the city,” he concluded confidently. Then he continued, as though talking to himself, “I’m just coming back from the city myself. I went yesterday on a transport ship that belongs to a relative, so I got a free ride. I started back first thing this morning, and caught a little town bus, but they wanted to charge me twelve yuan. I got mad, and got off halfway without paying them even one cent. That’s how I managed to save twelve yuan on my way there, and then six more on my way back.”

I laughed to myself. He peered at my face, then said earnestly, “Nobody comes by these parts, as there are no touristic sites here. It has been an obscure locale from time immemorial.” I couldn’t help but let out a great belly laugh when I heard the old man putting on airs like this. But he didn’t pay me any mind, and just went on talking, “Erlang Mountain is the only good thing to see. Bright Moon Temple is up there, and there are lots of flowering plants and bamboo. There are pheasants too, and to the south and east of the mountain there’s a lake with wild ducks in it. People say that if the pheasants mate with the ducks, they make a phoenix... yes, this mountain is well worth seeing, so you might as well go up and take a look around. You can stay in the temple for twenty yuan a night, three meals included. The only people up there are the couple who run the temple. They used to be regular folk—from the city, like you. They came in the spring of 1970, but nobody knows why. It’s been almost thirty years now, and they’ve never had any family come to visit... The man is named Master Luo, and the woman Master Bo, and even though they run the temple, they still dress like commoners and live together as husband and wife, sleeping in the same room and everything. Isn’t that strange?”

前言/序言

To be frank, I started reading Ye Mi (葉彌) only a little over three years ago when she was recommended to me by both Su Tong (蘇童) and Fan Xiaoqing (範小青), who said that she was a writer of real narrative power with a unique style of her own. The first story I read of hers and then published in CAL is“Family,” one that is vastly different from others in that it smacks of a strong flavor of the ambiance prevalent in the writings of the Republican period of China. Her mind seems to me to be totally engrossed in a serene world far away from the madding crowd of today. Mountains and flowers, temples and monasteries, the bright moon and a sprinkling of lonely, leisurely souls—all these seem to have made up the entire world of her literary landscape. She is instinctively attached to these things and people and seems to have little interest in what is going on in this world of mundane existence. I’ve always been wondering what could possibly be the reason behind this literary preference of hers. Then I was reminded of her retreat from the city to the countryside a few years ago, where she preferred a self-contained, rustic life with her patches of vegetables and fruit trees and flocks of fowls and pets. Ye Mi is my age and not that old to retire to the country like China’s reputed recluses of the olden days when they had either suffered enough setbacks in the realistic world, or when they were tired of the schemes and struggles of the outside world and dreamed of withdrawing to the mountains and waters for an unperturbed life. Ye Mi seems to fit into neither category. But then who knows! What I do know is that the female author is very happy with what she has and what she is. She is at present the proud master of her own house at the side of the Taihu Lake, now working in the fields, now walking with her cherished pets, but most of the time peacefully working away at her letters.

Starting this issue, CAL has a new column added to it:“Echoes of Classics.” We’ll pick and choose those cultural and literary gems throughout the history of Chinese civilization from Laozi’s Daodejing, Confucius’ Analects, the pre-Qin prose, the works of the Pléiade of the Bamboo Grove, Tang and Song poetry, Yuan drama, Ming and Qing fiction, all the way down to the May 4th literary masterpieces. For Daodejing, which is the first on our long list and is known to have been the most translated Chinese classic with one hundred versions or so in English alone, we hesitated a lot as to which of these renditions to choose. James Legge? Frederic Henry Balfour? Witter Bynner? Arthur Waley? Lin Yutang (林語堂)? Or D.C. Lau (劉殿爵)? All towering figures in sinology or literary translation, but finally we came down to Bill Porter, a.k.a. Red Pine, a name with some Zen implication in it which Porter adopted for himself after more than a dozen years of life and work in Taiwan and Hong Kong. His rendition of Daodejing, using simple enough English to capture the austere and sometimes elusive meaning of the original text, impresses me as having the advantage of better fluidity in reading and easier accessibility to the modern reader. What is more noteworthy is his eclectic selection from the ocean of literary commentaries and exegeses on Daodejing throughout Chinese literary history which is yet another sure evidence of Porter’s extensive reading and rigorous scholarship. Dadejing, like The Analects, with its colloquial style, is relatively a simple text, but translating it is by no means easy. That’s why the Canadian sinologist W.A.C.H. Dobson, whose translation of Mencius won him world-wide accolade, said that it was time for a sinologist to retire when he announced that he was working on a new version of Daodejing. We don’t know exactly what is behind Dobson’s words, but we are moved by Porter’s courage to take up the challenge of translating this Daoist classic at an age when most people would prefer a cozy, retired life with their family and yet he decided to follow the dictates of his heart and set his mind on burning the long, solitary midnight oil.

One of the problems prior to translating Daodejing is that the translator will come across different versions of the text, including different punctuations, for throughout the ages, the text of Daodijing underwent numerous recensions and each would claim itself to be authentic. This alone will result in different enough interpretations and accordingly, divergent renditi 中華人文（2018第一輯） [Chinese Arts and Letters] 下載 mobi epub pdf txt 電子書