We Stand on a Lofty Peak, Sonnet Sixteen
我们站立在高高的山巅
十四行之十六
作者：冯至
我们站立在高高的山巅
化身为一望无边的远景，
化成面前的广漠的平原，
化成平原上交错的蹊径。
哪条路，哪道水，没有关连，
哪阵风，哪片云，没有呼应；
我们走过的城市、山川，
都化成了我们的生命。
我们的生长，我们的忧愁
是某某山坡的一棵松树，
是某某城上的一片浓雾；
我们随着风吹，随着水流，
化成平原上交错的蹊径，
化成蹊径上行人的生命。
We Stand On a Lofty Peak, Sonnet Sixteen
by Feng Zhi
Side by side on a lofty peak
We stand, becoming
The vast plain before us
With its criss-crossing paths.
Is any road or river unconnected?
Does any wind or cloud not call to others?
The cities, mountains, rivers we have passed
Become our lives.
Our growth, our grief,
Are like a lone pine on some distant slope,
Or thick mist over a city.
We follow the blast of the wind, the flow of water,
Become the paths criss-crossing on the plain,
Become the lives of travelers on these paths.
-Translated by Dominic Cheung, University of Southern California
Wir stehen zusammen auf hohem Gipfel, Sonett Sechzehn
von Feng Zhi
Wir stehen zusammen auf hohem Gipfel
Und werden zur Ferne, die wir nicht schauen können,
Zur weiten Ebene vor uns,
Zu Pfaden, die sich kreuzen
Alle Wege und Wasser gehören einander,
Jeder Wind, jede Wolke ist Ruf und Antwort:
Die Städte, und Landschaften, einmal durchquert,
Werden all zu unserem Leben
Unser sein, unser Schmerz
Ist wie eine Kiefer auf ungenannten Hängen,
Wie dichter Nebel über einer Stadt;
Mit dem Wehen des Windes und dem Fliessen des Wassers gehen wir hin,
Werden zu Pfaden in den Ebenen,
Werden zum Leben unterwegs
-Übersetzt von Wolfgang Kubin, Universität Bonn
About the Poet: Feng Zhi (1905-1993)
Feng’s writings began to appear in literary journals while he was still a student. Between 1930 and 1935 he studied literature and philosophy in Germany. Early in his career he became a devotee of the sonnet form and distinguished himself as a story poet. In 1964 he was appointed director of the Foreign Literature Institute at the prestigious Academy of Social Sciences.
About the Poem: We Stand on a Lofty Peak, Sonnet Sixteen
In simple yet convincing words, this poem reveals the connections linking people everywhere. Strangers in a city, like roads criss-crossing on a plain, or streams merging into rivers, never exist in isolation. As individuals, we may sometimes feel as solitary as a pine tree on a windy slope; but in fact our loneliness is illusion. Our separate awarenesses make up something huge and tangible though difficult to comprehend - like droplets in a mist - concealing the ground and buildings they cling to. Just as travelers become the roads they pass along, people don’t merely live in a city: they are that city.
