Brief bio sketch

Lloyd Haft (1946- ) was born in Sheboygan, Wisconsin USA and lived as a boy in Wisconsin, Louisiana and Kansas. In 1968 he graduated from Harvard College and went to Leiden, The Netherlands for graduate study in Chinese (M. A. 1973, Ph. D. 1981). From 1973 to 2004 he taught Chinese language and literature, mostly poetry, at Leiden. His sinological publications include Pien Chih-lin: A Study in Modern Chinese Poetry (1983/2011; published in Chinese translation as 发现卞之琳: 一位西方学者的探索之旅 in 2010) and A Guide to Chinese Literature (with Wilt Idema, 1997). His liberal modern Dutch reading of Laozi's Daode jing was published as Lau-tze's vele wegen by Synthese in September 2017. His newest books in English are translations: Herman Gorter: Selected Poems (Arimei Books, 2021), Zhou Mengdie: 41 Poems (Azoth Books, 2022), and Totally White Room (Poems by Gerrit Kouwenaar, Holland Park Press, 2023). He has translated extensively into English from the Dutch of Herman Gorter, Gerrit Kouwenaar, and Willem Hussem, and from the Chinese of various poets including Lo Fu, Yang Lingye, Bian Zhilin and Zhou Mengdie.



Since the 1980s he has also been active as a poet writing in Dutch and English. He was awarded the Jan Campert Prize for his 1993 bilingual volume Atlantis and the Ida Gerhardt Prize for his 2003 Dutch free-verse readings of the Psalms (republished by Uitgeverij Vesuvius in 2011). His newest books of poetry in Dutch are Intocht (Introit) and Beluisteringen (Soundings), published by Uitgeverij Van Warven in November 2023, and Kruipruimte (Crawlspace), published by Arimei Books in November 2024. After early retirement in 2004, for a number of years Lloyd Haft spent much of his time in Taiwan with his wife Katie Su. In June 2019 he was named a Distinguished Alumnus of National Taiwan Normal University. In addition to writing and translating, his interests include Song-dynasty philosophy and tai chi. For many years he sang in the choir of a Roman Catholic church of the Eastern Rite in The Hague.



Tuesday, March 1, 2011

uit Slakkehuis 2 (korte gedichten)


SPRINGPAARD

Benen hard tegen
de buik, geen voet op aarde –
haal je wél het hek.


ZOMERS GEZICHT

Kauw die in de wind
stevig op een schapekop
stil staat, te vreten.


TUSSEN DE WIND DOOR

Wat men liefheeft, spreekt
slechts uit mondige dingen:
loof dat vallend krijst.


NIAGARA FALLS

’t Bindende wist zich
hard op de keien thuis hier,
terecht te pletter.


MEMO

Zoek, merel, tussen
nog levende grassprieten.
Het najaar vordert.


OUDE DEN

Moeder, lang terug
zag ik u, in ’t voorbijgaan
als bast, gebarsten.


CIPRES

Zo leert de wind zelf
haar richting kennen: lijnen
in uw bast gegroeid.


OPTELSOM

‘...diepe pijn pas echt’,
deze beuk had twéé stammen.
Beide afgewaaid.


SLAPENDE GAAI

Zelfs de wind laat je
met rust nu, je twee koppen
even bij elkaar.


GEVALLEN BLAD

Ik zag eerst een muis –
zo stil lig jij nu, midden
op de grote weg.


HULST

Als je vroegdood ligt
en over de snelweg waait
krijg ik je te zien.


JANUARI

Als de dag lang wordt
gaat de merel bol staan : van
honger nog het meest.


OMGEHAKTE BOOM

Zaagsel op de weg
geeft aan waar ik thuis was, soms,
in het voorbijgaan.


HELLINGEN

Waar ik voor het eerst
mos, groei zag doet er niet toe –     
groen, vooral nu groen.

--Lloyd Haft (uit Slakkehuis en andere korte gedichten, Querido 1985)

Friday, February 25, 2011

且把言語翻了...(以此齋詩譜一首)


秋天的一個下午, 我在台灣的打狗看著一排梧桐類的樹, 忽然讓我想一年前在荷蘭Gouda 城的一個傍晚
漢樂逸荷語詩作、 蘇桂枝合譯

且把言語翻了...
Dagou 裡面聽 Gouda,
「打狗」就是「高達」 !
喚醒著
秋天我在 Gouda
從火車站醒出來...
四面閃閃翻翻地
是梧桐樹的葉子
一把一把拿著我,
提著我
提到它的高處...
葉子都是我那燃燒的手
被提鍊的
被燒鍊...
給它燒個翻 !
翻到開了,
開到深處
也是根處,
瞬間跨了紅塵語海
回到此岸來,
伸到彼岸去。


荷語原文2010年12月登載於紅銅雜誌 .

Thursday, February 24, 2011

以此齋詩譜三首


(一)鄉村客運
       ──於美國

從公共汽車裡我望見
一位打著蝴蝶領結的男孩
站在翠綠的柳枝下;

他在哭泣,身體彎曲
四下裡的寂靜很合他的身材
緊繃而適宜。
我知道是我:
他將自己的痛苦緊緊地貼近自己
猶如將花朵緊貼在他的胸口。

照料他的貴婦──
不是柳樹,卻在柳陰中──
我自己就是她,那個在一種綠色的灰暗裡

向下的懸垂,
壟罩整個汽車的雨水
帶著篤篤的,聽得見的壓抑。

雖然他知道這一切,但那位乘客
(我自己仍然是)無法避免
突然間另一個人在身後

站起,從他的口袋中
掏出一枚金飾
交給司機

──也無法避免在此之後雨水
下得沒完沒了越來越迅猛,灰暗
下得沒完沒了持續下去。


(二)冰雹
    ──於北京

可以發生得如此突兀:
像現在天空滿是
由水變成的石頭。

是由於南方的湖水,
西部的沙漠嗎?
不要在地球上尋找解釋,因為

這是現實。
因此每人都戴着
面具。 平靜、耐心,

遠在上萬條街道的
角落上空,
有一輛白色公共汽車一動不動。


(三)相片

為了能夠抓住你
我不得不將你
減少一維:深度。

不要驚訝,此時你
在我的拘押中變成另一個人──

你一向如此
(雖然我從未用雙手抓住過你)。


漢樂逸荷語原著,中文轉載自馬高明、柯雷編譯之《荷蘭現代詩選》,1988年,桂林市漓江出版社。

from Atlantis 2 (poems)


(1)   On the Way

Isn’t it true I tried?
Didn’t my fingers burn with sun
even inside the window,

even beside my flat face
merging with the glass from long looking?
That the train keeps moving is
cliché, tracks rusting etcetera.
Those I know. What I have never known

is how to sing with the weeds even
after they pass, right on the pane

take on what’s left of light:
one big dried smashed still-gold flower
matching my face for wideness.


(2)   Terrace Lunch

Upon my very lips the hornet
wanders, seeking sweetish crumbs
in what the sun has baked of blood.
With my hump of bread
at terrace tabletop, I represent the loaves
and fishes of one lone.

Dry, certain her tread
on what so red can still be traced
in silence’s environ,
sweeping tail and talon soft
across the two where all my truth issues.

Beast, help me. Hunger with this man
who hopes and whispers in an offal wind:
flesh fades on blueing grains
of what I needing leave behind. Seek:
bite, but keep me coming red.


(3)   When I Sent You Off

You looked at the fountain, saying
I was most myself where spray leaping
tried to merge with sky and failed,

where the rising arc nearly fitted
into such terribly descending
reds and bones, old stiff-standing rainbow

our ancestors worshipped as promise,
patter, anything but dead water
falling in place, painting my white beer

brown and your tea subtle.
We were waiting and knew it, watching
passersby under the same plane trees

my forebears had no name for even.
I was about to bring you away,
wish you away like wishing

spatters at least might hit, stain somewhere
skies, seekers.

--Lloyd Haft (from Atlantis, Querido 1993)

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

以此齋詩譜四首

漢樂逸荷語詩作、徐天就合譯

  
(一)中途站

我把手放在你膝蓋上
膝蓋就不見了。我只是
把手放在空氣中,

下午的事情總是這樣。
唉,我希望能做到,
不觸摸你,

不填補那偶爾會展出膝蓋的
一片虛空,
在下午的一瞬間。


(二)吸新鮮空氣

是否要告訴你
我們的散步令
盲人重見光明
痲瘋患者痊癒?

還是說:「我們經過的地方仍是兒童樂園」?
(小女孩,坐蹺蹺板
升至最高之處,向你驚笑。)

從行人道上的裂痕,你能見
地球口渴,懇求,
崩裂,和我們的到達。

「一個星球的危機
是否依然應著我們的慢步而起?」
爾言之矣
小女孩又腳踏實地了。


(三)跳欄比賽

如悲傷是一種體育運動
而不是生存方式,

你的離去
便是一塊滿佈障礙的空地
而不是空氣。

連我,
按我的本性,也起步,我,
「越弱越強」──

會跳過所有欄架。或一敗塗地。
如我在柔軟的跑道上
絆倒──當然會躺下──

我會仰望
彩雲,像虞美人
一樣美,滿天。

可惜,我不是這樣躺著,我在
呼吸,綠草也
離去了,你沒有留下任何障礙。


(四)賣蘋菓的女小販
-寫於上海


第一次讀到,
片刻不能呼吸──

這古代詩
涉及一隻雌鹿在森林
死於地上,在
三春來臨之際

你販賣蘋菓
與其無關:
我想吃一隻
在你的攤子,你的條箱上
沒有掛著銅鈴,
沒有玉佩

我需要的只是一隻蘋菓,
一隻金黃,普通的:
請幫我包起來

如許可的話,請把它放在
落葉之間,白蘆葦
在下,在上


轉載自焦風月刊第422期,1989年元月
荷語原文1984年登載於荷蘭Querido出版社之《Brandende lisdodden,香蒲在燃燒》。

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

from Atlantis 1 (poems)


(1)   Coffee on the Lawn

That the chair is white; that a cigarette
package is green is not my joy. Blues,
clouds heaving off-white,
skies are not my truth. What I remember
is shaped, holds as a garden.

There you came with cups and tray,
all my strength a tremor finding
place in your pulse. Like the magpie’s tail
your wrist moved as a rudder in silence,
ebbing me to where I dwell knowing.


(2)   Pledge

You opened wide your hands
and spread them linen-bright across
the wind-smooth table of your knees

the way thick bloodleaves of the maple
– place where even the dust reposes –
open their veins a net,
breeze-chimed hammock at the sun’s wayside.

Unlike that gold-fatigued old rover
I laid my face frank in your keeping
– rest, highwayless at last –
finding in your breath my pillow

as my palm rounded perfect to fit
your anklebone’s immeasurable coin.

--Lloyd Haft (from Atlantis, Querido 1993)

Li Shenquan 李神泉 in memoriam (gedichten)


‘Wie er lang mag staan is rijk...’

Li Shenquan 李神泉 in memoriam

I.

‘Wie er lang mag staan is rijk’ –
zo heette het onder de bomen.
Waar ze ’t hoogst werden
vingen zij bij vallend blad nog
goud: laatste spranken
van een ondergaande zon.

Niet zo onder ons.
Wie hier pas komt is
hoog, staat
open: vangt
wat er komt. Of
komen kán. Want

alle komen is van wind.


II.

Niet ingeschreven. Inge-
waaid krijgt de den groen,

kromt de tak donker.
Waaien doet worden, laat ook ont-
worden want adem

is niet altijd in –
adem gaat als licht

uit, vlug,
met de wind mee

daar: waar de tak al af-
lopend wijst.


III.

Wat je van de wind
naziet is de boom
die hij leegde

want alle vorm is nagelaten:
wordens wees,
wezens wrak,

tak waar toen de één en vreemde
vogel bijna bleef
die bij ons lichtte.

--Lloyd Haft
december 2010



De foto is van het waterverfschilderij 'Als edelst geldt lang leven' van Li Shenquan. Dank aan:
http://tw.myblog.yahoo.com/jw!vOVuWO2UFRs4U0M3rU0nVL8jCw--/article?mid=2656