Saturday, May 9, 2009

Baima: Siren

          by Baima (1972-)  tr. Fan Jinghua
I climb walls, and run like winds, to date a siren
Eyes on top of my head, I turn my back to friends, just for a date with a siren

Her wax beak of a hummingbird mimics the smile of broccoli
The honey breath at the eye of a storm. She intoxicates me, this heart of a teen spirit!

In spite of the discipline of the green-robed housekeeper
In spite of the canine-protruding younger daughter of the town’s magistrate

Fragmented dialogues and steps, hearken
Trysts on the sea hidden from human vision, hearken

If tides gently ebb, time does not bid for one coin
If a fisherman wakes up in the time for sleep, he will startle to see all

Oh, my siren, a wordless song flows from her scarlet mouth
She walks past the embankment, tranquiller than a midnight waterfowl

      白玛 (1972-)







My Postscripts to translation 译后赘言:
  Do sirens get wings? Do they need to fly out of water? It appears that they are dolphin-like creatures, but still they may float in the moonlight, like angels. But that is where the angels do not tread. If angels do not go there, do it mean that it is a promised land of amorality, a place where evil is beyond the principle of good and evil? Or rather, a space where women are merely human?
  A woman will have to rid of clothes to fly, as women have always been clad in ponderous costumes. Dancing is not flying, but a show, for spectators, inevitably male. Singing? Hard to say, sometimes for themselves, sometimes not.

About the Poet 诗人简介
 Baima, or Baima Cuomu in full, born in Shandong in 1972, began publishing poems as early as at the age of 16. She had been in the army in Beijing, and lived in Jiangsu, Beijing and Lhasa. She now lives in Linyi, Shandong. She authors a poetry book The Messenger on the Way, and co-authors a poetry book We Seven. Baima is a fiercely confident poet.

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