Sowing a seed

One of the greatest pleasures a writer can have is when one of his/her works triggers the imagination of another. I was lucky enough to have this happen with my translation from the Chinese of Qin Guan's lyric for: "Partridge Sky". Qin wrote this after he had been banished from his post as a government official and went into exile in the countryside. I ashould add that he had a reputation as a womanizer.

Here is my translation, published in the 2002 issue of "Rhino":

To the Tune: “Partridge Sky” Qin Guan

the treetop cadence of an oriole
has me in tears
there’s a new note there
among the old notes

throughout the spring
fish and geese have brought no news
in dreams my spirit labored
endless miles across the mountain pass

lifting the fragrant cup in silence
I bear this sorrow through the sunset
while my lamplight burns the river bank

I close the door on rain
pounding into peach-tree blossoms

This evoked the following response from Susan Baller Shepard, a splendidly witty villanelle:

“Northern Song”
by Susan Baller Shepard

Homage to Qin Guan's "Partridge Sky" as translated by Mike Farman (RHINO 2002)

There's a new note there among the old notes,
Qin Guan's in exile, life torn asunder.
Geese harbingers honk news from slender throats,

the emperor is not amused, he gloat
spoetry, to him, a fruitless blunder.
There's a new note there. Among the old notes,

Qin Guan lost favor, his words live in quotes.
How I lost your favor? Still I ponder...
geese. Harbingers honk news from slender throats

along the Pearl River. He'd watch the boats,
Jiangsu to Guangdong, all over yonder.
There's a new note. There among the old notes

you say, "I'm not done sowing my wild oats.
"I say, "This passion aches. No wonder!"
Geese harbingers honk news. From slender throats

our desire, heavy-laden, rises and floats.
What strikes, sinks us, with echoing thunder--
there's a new note there? Among the old notes
geese harbingers honk? News? From slender throats?