A gale has damaged a train
Zooming forward like a giant python on the northern wilderness
And darkened the snow-white clouds above the Pacific
As well as the languid face of the sun
Dozing off amidst the icy snow in the center of a warm convection flow
A livid brazen face just like an outdated white radish
The dark face of the sun in the gale
Has scared a black plane silly
High above the Pacific Ocean
And has mercilessly and ruthlessly broken
The giant wings of a white swan and a big plane
The desperate swan having no time to mourn
And the gigantic plane with broken wings
Chase each other and plunge together into the Pacific
In the over-blustery gale
The over-blustery gale
Has also blown down a massive boulder on a lonesome island
Cut open the breast of a colossal whale in an anonymous trench
Leaping above the sea once in a while
And then thrown its soft limp body
Like folding a piece of unclaimed clothing
Gently into
The Pacific Ocean
With an appetite nothing can sate
Even meteorites
I will begin my writing with a smallest river
A rivulet in a desert
Living on the riverside of the creek in the desert
Are lizards a ladybug family’s
Temporal yet bewildering flights and seemingly casual
Life with game-like courtship and mating
Red rocks gunmetal grey rocks steel-blue rocks
And even black rocks
Seem to slumber inside time
Like a halfway game played by a child
The rivulet in the dream of an unkempt child
In the varicolored dream of the heap of rocks
Carelessly and recklessly traverses the border
The rivulet in the desert
Is so translucent that its sand grains as sober as crystals
Remain indifferent to the boundless and indistinct grassland
With sand dunes gently rolling with a zephyr
To the mire and disheveled weeds piled up on the riverbed
And to the repeated enveloping and wavering crossing
Of the dark umbra of a red-beaked crow flying over the sky
The rivulet in the desert
Remains nonchalant to an outlander on a hill afar
Overlooking while resting against an unexpected tree
Under the sporadic umbrage and to the melancholy
Flickering and glooming alternatively
Just like fire sparkles in the depths of his eyes
All local deserts
Were originally under an azure green lake
Under the bellies of fish
Under the decayed hulls of boats of old boatmen
Like the lungs of the entire nation being furtively eroded
The exposed sandy land after abrupt disappearance of the lake
Is catastrophically sprawling to neighboring regions
The trees are sagged on the ground like mandarin pancakes
The grass is following suit
So are shrubs and worms having lost their shelters
By leading a flock of varicolored birds to fly away
Even a traveler having arrived by chance
Is following suit in slumberland
He has dreamt of: when some other lakes successively perish
Kua Fu having been in sopor all day and every day[1]
In the desert will eventually awaken stretching his
Body and limbs disgorging in whole ten suns
Having been swallowed by him for ten thousand years
As if puking up pearls and the heart like a tough stone
In the wilderness uncrushable even if compressed
Repeatedly by the ten suns
Whilst his eyes having spouted flames once will spew out
In regret two lakes ten giant black-backed fish
And some kind of unheard-of singular birds
Resembling both a duck and a swan with premarital pregnancy
——“Hey! I am saying let’s not discuss right now whether or not
This kind of thing can happen!”
[1] Translators’ note: Kua Fu (夸父; pinyin: kuā fù) is a giant in Chinese mythology who wished to capture the sun.
这一带的沙漠
原先都在绿汪汪的湖水下
都在鱼肚子底下
都在老艄公已经开始腐朽的船肚子下
仿佛整个国家的肺正被暗暗地腐蚀
湖泊突然消失后暴露出来的沙地
像一场灾祸一样朝着周边蔓延
那些煎饼一样瘫倒在地面上的树
草学着它的模样 灌木丛学着它的模样
失去了庇护的虫子也学着它的模样
带着一群五颜六色的鸟飞走了
甚至一个偶然到来的旅行者
在做梦时也学着它的模样
他梦见:在另一些湖泊相继死去之后
沙漠中整日昏睡不醒的夸父将会醒来
他将舒展身子 像呕吐珍珠一样囫囵吐出
他吞食已有一万年光阴的十颗太阳
和旷野上顽石一般 被十颗太阳
反复辗轧都轧不碎的心
而他曾经喷出火焰的双眼 将在悔恨中
喷出两座湖泊 十条黑脊背的大鱼
和某种像鸭子也像天鹅 未婚先孕
闻所未闻的奇异之鸟
——“嗨!我是说这样的事情能否发生
咱们最好暂且不论!”
Chen Du is a Voting Member of American Translators Association and a member of the Translators Association of China with a Master’s Degree in Biophysics from Roswell Park Cancer Institute, the State University of New York at Buffalo and a Master’s Degree in Radio Physics from the Chinese Academy of Sciences. A set of three poems co-translated by her and Xisheng Chen was a finalist in the 2020 Gabo Prize for Literature in Translation & Multilingual Texts. She is also the author of the book Successful Personal Statements. Find her online at ofsea.com
Xisheng Chen, is an ESL grammarian, lexicologist, linguist, translator and educator. As a translator for over three decades, he has published translations in various fields in newspapers and journals in China and abroad. A set of three poems co-translated by him and Chen Du was a finalist in the 2020 Gabo Prize for Literature in Translation & Multilingual Texts. 2020.
Yan An is author of fourteen poetry books, including Rock Arrangement, which has won him The Sixth Lu Xun Literary Prize, one of China’s top four literary prizes. As the winner of various national awards and prizes, he is also the Vice President of Shaanxi Writers Association, the head and Executive Editor-in-Chief of the literary journal Yan River, one of the oldest and most famous literary journals in Northwestern China. In addition, he is a member of the Poetry Committee of China Writers Association. His poetry book A Naturalist’s Manor translated by Chen Du and Xisheng Chen will be published by Chax Press.