by Hanxin tr. Fan Jinghua
That is a lady in her fifties, who happens to be in court but not a lady-in-waiting.
Perhaps stained with an air of gold,
Yet she runs into my dream out of the blue,
As my dream is breaking its cocoon,
Breaking open a wall and pushing its way
Through the last-year grasses to look for biting stonecrops in the Square of Reality.
This is a new genus of flowers, with long white fingernails
Embedded, like bamboo shoots, in viscous sea-green water,
On whose surface the crawling waves are so light that no one feels or knows.
Of course I feign ignorance, pretending that I haven’t foreseen the impossible equation
Or thousands of solid things with inner emptiness.
The blind is helped finally to a seating space,
Then he stretches his arm from me and says:
"Come and listen to me. I will tell every detail of your future."
I dodge aside, for I have seen more meshes of a net.
As to the explorable fire and the nothingness behind it, may they be used to help
Others to steady themselves! Everyone has their own way
To annihilation, so better let themselves stuff the space between the walls
And block the mouth than speaking everything out
July 24, 2008
About the poet:
Hanxin, pen name of Dong Mei, is a contemporary woman poet who was born in 1968 in Lanzhou, Gansu and now resides in Shandong. She has published Three Simple Hearts (co-authored) and Rambling Slowness.