In addition to learning the Mandarin language, students on the Mandarin Course have many opportunities to experience Chinese culture through a wide range of activities and educational trips. Beyond the classroom, they are also encouraged to challenge themselves by entering national and international competitions.
One such opportunity is the Stephen Spender Prize, an annual international competition for poetry in translation. Established in 2004, the competition invites participants to translate any published poem from any language into English. Over the years, it has celebrated translations from more than one hundred languages, showcasing diverse poetic voices and highlighting the creativity and skill involved in literary translation across all age groups and language backgrounds.
This year, our Mandarin students chose to enter the competition as a group rather than as individuals. Ms Chen selected and submitted their entries on behalf of the students for the Schools Laureate Prize category. The group narrowly missed out on the top award but received a commendation, an impressive achievement, especially considering that some of the students are beginners who joined the course only last year.
Sophie Thomas (13EBY) recalled the experience saying that “It was fascinating to see another culture’s poetry and learn about the experience of translation – the details that one has to go into and consider. ”
Junwei Liang (13ZBO) commented that “Taking part in the Stephen Spender Translation Competition was a really informative and eye-opening experience – not only through the discovery of different Chinese poems and stories, but also exploring the meanings and symbolisms that permeate Classical Chinese Poetry. ”
Below is a poem translated by Arabella Finnigan (13THA).
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POEM in Chinese
蝶恋花, 刘墉
伫倚危楼风细细，
极春愁，黯黯生天际。
草色烟光残照里，
无言谁会凭阑意？
拟把疏狂图一醉，
对酒当歌，强乐还无味。
衣带渐宽终不悔，
为伊消得人憔悴。
Butterflies in Love with Flowers
– Poem by Liu Yong
Leaning on a rickety tower, a delicate breeze blows,
Gazing off into the dusky sky, my apprehension, with the spring, grows.
Light falls, forming reflections from the dewy grass, illuminating,
Who can decipher this desire, when leaning on this railing?
I plan to aid these feelings with a bottle brewed of mania,
Wine and song are a force quite strong, although leaving me a saboteur.
But, as my clothes start to drape against my skeleton skin,
For her, I would wither and shrink to oblivion.