Asked by a friend to translate some poems of her friend Qiao (meaning "Bridge", penname of He Zhuangning). Qiao was born in Hangzhou and now lives in Shenzhen, Guangdong (Canton). The translation is for a Denish rock band, so I take some liberty and make the words a little prosaic and change the form of the poem a little.
The One Who Huddles Under A Tree
by Qiao tr. Fan Jinghua
The one who has a cutting edge usually hides
Yesterday he bloomed as a white flower
On a camphor tree by the roadside
The day before he hid in an electronic guitar
Charged all the night
A week before that he grew a long beard of cares
He had fallen into a cherry
So he put that week in his mouth and shut his teeth
The one who has a cutting edge usually hides
He peels off his bark for the night
The dewdrops fondle his bare trunk
And he is made an oil-lamp
With a handful of snow I wipe my face
And from the fissure between us the sprout of time shoots up
The one who has a cutting edge usually hides
He is my root and I am a tree
All winter long, our fingers are interlocked
And we press the spring down with our body
Sometimes he jumps into the lake to catch fish
And in passing picks up a bundle of time too
The one who has a cutting edge usually hides
He pushes open a cherrywood window and jumps into the night
He is escaping with a reaper on his back
He is covered with moss from top to bottom
The day after tomorrow he will come to a village called Prosperity
The crops are waiting to be reaped and stolen out there
那个藏在树下的人
作者：桥
那个深藏不露的人
昨天在北山路的樟树上开了一朵小白花
前天他藏在一把吉他里
整个晚上都插着电
再往前一个星期
他长出胡子
心事重重
爱上一颗樱桃
他把那个星期都含在嘴里
那个深藏不露的人
他剥光了自己的树皮
深夜露水摸着他的瘦躯干
他像油灯一样
我往脸上抹了一把雪
时间在我们两个人之间的缝隙里长出芽
那个深藏不露的人
其实他就是我的树根
整个冬天我们十指交叉把春天压在身体下面
偶尔他跳进湖里
摸鱼
顺便摘一把时间
那个深藏不露的人
今夜即将推开一扇樱桃木窗跳进黑夜
他背着一把镰刀逃跑
他的肉体长满了青苔
后天他即将到达一个叫昌化的地方
在那里一大片农田等着收割
偷走整个村庄
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