Spent
On the lotus leave, naked mercury
Rolls down from the huge green slope, polishing
The belly button of the small universe
A drop of coolness balances on the column head
Like a porcelain placenta opening to the above
It is not yet sacrificed to the love-shaped dragonflies
The sun throws out its poisonous rays
At the sinews of petals, and they suddenly let loose
Of their clutches on the ovary
And the dim water receives a fleet of colourful boats
May 21, 2011
落
荷叶上，赤裸的水银
从绿坡上滚落，将小宇宙的肚脐
抛光成一枚钮扣
一滴凉爽凝结在那挺拔的柱顶
瓷厚地压紧一盘向上的敞开
还没有被人类奉献
给蜻蜓的爱心，阳光的荼毒
刺扎花瓣之根，忽然的松开
幽暗的水面平添一排彩舟
2011-5-21
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Fan Jinghus: Seaside
Seaside
The sun’s poison is still strong
When people are half awake to the stupor of a nap
At the end of the scaling alley stands a broad-leave tree
Thick breaths roll over the dam
And the busiest eyes will cast a look into the direction of sounds
Where holiday makers look like small crabs with whitish shells
The beach arches into an expanse of infinity
Vaster than imagination, making imagination empty
Rocks seem to sink deeper, but is there anyone who can tell why
May 15, 2011
海滨
当人们半醒于午睡的瘫软中
阳光的余毒正强劲
小街斜坡的尽头，站着一棵阔叶的树
粗重的呼吸从海堤下翻滚过来
最匆忙的人也会循声一望
度假的人犹如小螃蟹驮着泛白的壳
而沙滩一扭身就无边无际了
比想象更加空旷，令想象忽然空旷
那些岩石似乎陷得更深了，那是因为什么
2011-05-15
The sun’s poison is still strong
When people are half awake to the stupor of a nap
At the end of the scaling alley stands a broad-leave tree
Thick breaths roll over the dam
And the busiest eyes will cast a look into the direction of sounds
Where holiday makers look like small crabs with whitish shells
The beach arches into an expanse of infinity
Vaster than imagination, making imagination empty
Rocks seem to sink deeper, but is there anyone who can tell why
May 15, 2011
海滨
当人们半醒于午睡的瘫软中
阳光的余毒正强劲
小街斜坡的尽头，站着一棵阔叶的树
粗重的呼吸从海堤下翻滚过来
最匆忙的人也会循声一望
度假的人犹如小螃蟹驮着泛白的壳
而沙滩一扭身就无边无际了
比想象更加空旷，令想象忽然空旷
那些岩石似乎陷得更深了，那是因为什么
2011-05-15
Monday, May 9, 2011
Fan Jinghua: Making Sentences with Prepositions
Making Sentences with Prepositions
I sit by a desk, facing a white wall in a small room.
I am at home.
The sunrays are outside my window.
A group of boys are playing football on the green field across the residential quarter.
When I am not writing, I look up from the desk and look down at them running in the grass.
I know there are always people in the building beyond the green lot, although I can not see through the blue glass wall.
There must be people looking down at the players, whether I am looking or not.
I am not in the opposite building.
On Saturdays, many people go into that building, reading in the public library.
There are a boy and a girl now sitting at two sides of one of the long reading tables, separated by a frosted glass.
On each side of the glass there is a notice that reads “Please keep quiet.”
The warnings are stuck on the same position of the glass, as if they are one piece of paper with two faces to two directions like Janus.
The boy and the girl are each reading a book at the same table, not knowing what the other is reading.
Most of these are what I see when I am sitting by desk, and some are added on the basis of what I have seen.
I am still by the desk, at home, as this Saturday is going by with the sunrays,
May 8, 2011
用“在”字造句
我坐在桌前，在小房间里，对着一堵白墙。
我在家。
阳光在我的窗外。
一群大男孩在小区对面的草地上。
他们在踢球。
我不在写字的时候，我抬起头，低头看着他们在草地上追跑。
我知道总还有一些人在绿地那一边的楼里，不过我看不穿那蓝色的玻璃墙。
无论我是否在看，他们中肯定有些人也在看那些人踢球。
我不在对面的楼里。
在星期六，许多人会走进那座楼，在公共图书馆里阅读。
他们坐在那些长长的桌子两边，长桌中间隔着一块毛玻璃。
一个男孩和一个女孩坐在这样的一张桌子两边，被一块毛玻璃分开。
在玻璃的每一面，都贴着一张字条，上面写着“请保持安静”。
那两张告示贴在同一个位置，好像是同一张纸条，有两张脸，向着两个方向。
那男孩和那女孩在同一张桌子旁读书，不知道对方在读什么。
这些大多是我坐在桌前看到的，有一些是我在看到的基础上添加的。
我还在桌前，在家，周六正在随阳光消逝。
2011年5月8-9日
I sit by a desk, facing a white wall in a small room.
I am at home.
The sunrays are outside my window.
A group of boys are playing football on the green field across the residential quarter.
When I am not writing, I look up from the desk and look down at them running in the grass.
I know there are always people in the building beyond the green lot, although I can not see through the blue glass wall.
There must be people looking down at the players, whether I am looking or not.
I am not in the opposite building.
On Saturdays, many people go into that building, reading in the public library.
There are a boy and a girl now sitting at two sides of one of the long reading tables, separated by a frosted glass.
On each side of the glass there is a notice that reads “Please keep quiet.”
The warnings are stuck on the same position of the glass, as if they are one piece of paper with two faces to two directions like Janus.
The boy and the girl are each reading a book at the same table, not knowing what the other is reading.
Most of these are what I see when I am sitting by desk, and some are added on the basis of what I have seen.
I am still by the desk, at home, as this Saturday is going by with the sunrays,
May 8, 2011
用“在”字造句
我坐在桌前，在小房间里，对着一堵白墙。
我在家。
阳光在我的窗外。
一群大男孩在小区对面的草地上。
他们在踢球。
我不在写字的时候，我抬起头，低头看着他们在草地上追跑。
我知道总还有一些人在绿地那一边的楼里，不过我看不穿那蓝色的玻璃墙。
无论我是否在看，他们中肯定有些人也在看那些人踢球。
我不在对面的楼里。
在星期六，许多人会走进那座楼，在公共图书馆里阅读。
他们坐在那些长长的桌子两边，长桌中间隔着一块毛玻璃。
一个男孩和一个女孩坐在这样的一张桌子两边，被一块毛玻璃分开。
在玻璃的每一面，都贴着一张字条，上面写着“请保持安静”。
那两张告示贴在同一个位置，好像是同一张纸条，有两张脸，向着两个方向。
那男孩和那女孩在同一张桌子旁读书，不知道对方在读什么。
这些大多是我坐在桌前看到的，有一些是我在看到的基础上添加的。
我还在桌前，在家，周六正在随阳光消逝。
2011年5月8-9日
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Fan Jinghua: Black Hole
Black Hole
For X
Inverted Babel, words interject into each other
Along the descending course, and radii of meaning intersect
No light, understanding takes place in darkness and becomes darkness
This is not a rabbit hole. No point turning your head
For marrow has long ceased dripping from the end of our spine
There is no free fall here, no balls
And we crawl, clicking to the cragged wall of the hole
Praising the body that glitters in memory
The union and pleasure that are almost perfected in imagination
And the bliss that makes us feel the eternal breeze over time’s tributary
Now, the present comprises of the past only, and the past has been filled
Only with the future, but have we reached that moment already?
In this black tunnel, my voice is all that is left of me, and you hear it
You take in my pervasion, my persistent resignation, through the soul’s membrane
2011-05-03
黑洞
致X
倒垂的通天塔，语言在伸向深渊的途中
彼此插话，意思的半径开始交叠
没有光，理解在黑暗中，成为黑暗
这不是兔子洞，回头失去了意义
骨髓早已不再从我们的尾骨滴出
胆量，这里没有自由落体的球
我们吸附在嶙峋的石壁上
爬着，赞美记忆中闪烁的身体
以及想象很久才臻于完美的交融及欢愉
那福分令我们相信时间支流的岸上春风永远醉人
如今，现在只有过去，而过去曾一直充满着将来
此刻我们已经抵达那个时辰了吗
在这个黑隧道中，我的声音就是我的全部，你听到了
我的弥散，我执着的放弃，我的融入，透过灵魂的过滤膜
2011-05-03
For X
Inverted Babel, words interject into each other
Along the descending course, and radii of meaning intersect
No light, understanding takes place in darkness and becomes darkness
This is not a rabbit hole. No point turning your head
For marrow has long ceased dripping from the end of our spine
There is no free fall here, no balls
And we crawl, clicking to the cragged wall of the hole
Praising the body that glitters in memory
The union and pleasure that are almost perfected in imagination
And the bliss that makes us feel the eternal breeze over time’s tributary
Now, the present comprises of the past only, and the past has been filled
Only with the future, but have we reached that moment already?
In this black tunnel, my voice is all that is left of me, and you hear it
You take in my pervasion, my persistent resignation, through the soul’s membrane
2011-05-03
黑洞
致X
倒垂的通天塔，语言在伸向深渊的途中
彼此插话，意思的半径开始交叠
没有光，理解在黑暗中，成为黑暗
这不是兔子洞，回头失去了意义
骨髓早已不再从我们的尾骨滴出
胆量，这里没有自由落体的球
我们吸附在嶙峋的石壁上
爬着，赞美记忆中闪烁的身体
以及想象很久才臻于完美的交融及欢愉
那福分令我们相信时间支流的岸上春风永远醉人
如今，现在只有过去，而过去曾一直充满着将来
此刻我们已经抵达那个时辰了吗
在这个黑隧道中，我的声音就是我的全部，你听到了
我的弥散，我执着的放弃，我的融入，透过灵魂的过滤膜
2011-05-03
A Boulder on the Riverbed
A Boulder on the Riverbed
For Cheng Ying
A boulder is there on the riverbed, simplistic and plain
As sunrays fall down from the cliffs of clouds to scan it
It’s a matter of seconds, but even today it has been there
For more than half a day already; and it shows nothing
No expression of a still-water heart at the unchanging flow
Nor inner disturbance at the sun's fickle sports with clouds
The passer-by, if not going down there to touch it or kick it, will learn
To accept that its solitude is warm or cold solely for its own sake
A boulder on the riverbed is there, not for those drifting on the water
Nor for the vagabonds in search for a shelter on the earth
Whoever is intent on flowers and fruits won’t recognize the veins of stone
A boulder has a weight unknown to anyone, without gain or loss after birth
But everyone is free to attribute a growing awareness to it, as if it’s always had
The awareness that other boulders exist in sight at different distances
2011-05-02
河床上的大石头
（致成婴）
河床上有一块大石头，简朴，素白
阳光的瀑布从云的悬崖上泻下，扫描它
只是几秒钟的事，可今天，它就一直在那儿
已经半天多了，没显露任何表情
没因为流水不变的沉着而心如止水
没因为太阳与云朵亵戏而内心焦灼
经过的人若不去触摸或用脚踢踢，就得学会
接受，它的孤独是冷是暖，都只属于它自己
河床上的石头在河床上，不是为了弄潮逐水的人
不是为了在大地上寻求栖身之所的流浪者
谁执着于开花与结果，就注定认不出石头的纹脉
石头自有重量，不为人知，从出生就未曾增减
人人都可随意给它注入一种意识，犹如一直生长在它内部
意识到其它石头的存在，在视野之内，不同的距离
2011-05-03
For Cheng Ying
A boulder is there on the riverbed, simplistic and plain
As sunrays fall down from the cliffs of clouds to scan it
It’s a matter of seconds, but even today it has been there
For more than half a day already; and it shows nothing
No expression of a still-water heart at the unchanging flow
Nor inner disturbance at the sun's fickle sports with clouds
The passer-by, if not going down there to touch it or kick it, will learn
To accept that its solitude is warm or cold solely for its own sake
A boulder on the riverbed is there, not for those drifting on the water
Nor for the vagabonds in search for a shelter on the earth
Whoever is intent on flowers and fruits won’t recognize the veins of stone
A boulder has a weight unknown to anyone, without gain or loss after birth
But everyone is free to attribute a growing awareness to it, as if it’s always had
The awareness that other boulders exist in sight at different distances
2011-05-02
河床上的大石头
（致成婴）
河床上有一块大石头，简朴，素白
阳光的瀑布从云的悬崖上泻下，扫描它
只是几秒钟的事，可今天，它就一直在那儿
已经半天多了，没显露任何表情
没因为流水不变的沉着而心如止水
没因为太阳与云朵亵戏而内心焦灼
经过的人若不去触摸或用脚踢踢，就得学会
接受，它的孤独是冷是暖，都只属于它自己
河床上的石头在河床上，不是为了弄潮逐水的人
不是为了在大地上寻求栖身之所的流浪者
谁执着于开花与结果，就注定认不出石头的纹脉
石头自有重量，不为人知，从出生就未曾增减
人人都可随意给它注入一种意识，犹如一直生长在它内部
意识到其它石头的存在，在视野之内，不同的距离
2011-05-03
Backlighting
Backlighting
[To—]
In the light cast down
Through the corridor window
You stand
Gold-lined hair against a black treetop
I see you unbutton your lilac cardigan
Standing still and sending out a strong beckoning power
Me sleepwalking to you
Like an arrow toward the centre of a shallow focus photo
Going through the wall, stepping into the air
And I fall
You are sitting on a branch of that black tree
With a winged figure, smiling at the distant
Oh, the last shade in my eyes, the etherealness of my love
April 28, 2011
逆光
[致——]
走廊尽头的窗子
投下一方光柱
你站在其中
头发鎏金，背后是黑色的树冠
你解开丁香色的对襟毛衫
静立着，施放强烈的能量，召唤
我梦游向你
犹如一支箭航向一幅散景照的中心
穿过那堵墙，踏空
坠落
而你在那棵黑树的枝干上
与一个带翅的人形并坐，对着远方，微笑
哦，我眼中最后的影子，我爱的缥缈
2011年4月28日下午
[To—]
In the light cast down
Through the corridor window
You stand
Gold-lined hair against a black treetop
I see you unbutton your lilac cardigan
Standing still and sending out a strong beckoning power
Me sleepwalking to you
Like an arrow toward the centre of a shallow focus photo
Going through the wall, stepping into the air
And I fall
You are sitting on a branch of that black tree
With a winged figure, smiling at the distant
Oh, the last shade in my eyes, the etherealness of my love
April 28, 2011
逆光
[致——]
走廊尽头的窗子
投下一方光柱
你站在其中
头发鎏金，背后是黑色的树冠
你解开丁香色的对襟毛衫
静立着，施放强烈的能量，召唤
我梦游向你
犹如一支箭航向一幅散景照的中心
穿过那堵墙，踏空
坠落
而你在那棵黑树的枝干上
与一个带翅的人形并坐，对着远方，微笑
哦，我眼中最后的影子，我爱的缥缈
2011年4月28日下午
A Haiku for Japanese souls lost in tsunami
A Haiku for Japanese souls lost in tsunami
Never lit a joss-stick before
Today my hair washes the toes of Buddha
For the lost souls in the tsunami
从未烧过一枝香
今天我以头发洗濯佛脚
为了海啸的亡魂
Never lit a joss-stick before
Today my hair washes the toes of Buddha
For the lost souls in the tsunami
从未烧过一枝香
今天我以头发洗濯佛脚
为了海啸的亡魂
A Stolen Act in Three Scenes
A Stolen Act in Three Scenes
From a shoulder of an artificial hill among the pines
The full moon could be seen rising by a white pagoda
The park’s gate was already closed, and that was a stolen scene
In a dangerous corner in 1980s when patrolling guards
And hoodlums were active at nights of the first open-door years
A couple of days earlier on the campus, by a stone table under wisteria
His hand forced its way into her bra, and one by one
It cupped her younger-than-a-palm breasts and she gradually gave up
When his fingers reached her pubes, she suddenly collapsed
Letting loose the tautness of legs, and sobs and shivers welled up
Then she woke in his arms from stiffness to suppleness
At the gush of morning sun, he came on the stony ground by her hand
They parted repressed before a momentous turmoil boiled
And years later, she, divorced in another country, wrote about her feminine youth
“We did not do, we did not do
We rotated at the eye of revolution
And orgasmed at a young man’s rude touch
And then we escaped
The faith we were inculcated in the trinity
Of polygamy, patriarchy and monarchy
Is cancerous even in my recollection
When I write this poem today
All those lads have become half old men
In the country behind my back
Whose flaccid drives can no long do
What should have been done in the bold youth
But all men will wither into history
Maturing into intact eunuchs…”
March 27, 2011
偷来一幕三场
从松树丛中的假山肩头
可以看到月亮从白塔身侧冉冉升起
公园已经关了门，那是偷来的
风景，在八十年代一个危险的角落
巡夜者与流氓共存于开放之初的深夜
几天之前，在校园紫藤廊下的小石桌旁
他将一只手强行塞入她的胸衣，逐一
捂过那对不足一握的乳房
当他的手指抚摸到了她的阴阜，她突然决堤
双腿的紧绷溃消，抽泣与颤抖随之翻涌于周身
然后她的冰冷在他的怀中苏醒，从僵硬到柔软
朝阳喷薄时，他借她的手泄精于坚硬的地面
一场骚乱前，他们怀着抑郁各自离去
多年后，她皈依女性主义，在异国写她的青春
“我们没做，我们没做
我们在革命公转中自转
小毛头生硬的触摸就已高潮
然后胆怯地逃跑
我们一贯被灌输
一夫多妻、父权与帝王制的三位一体
时至今日我写着这首诗
它仍如癌细胞一般在回忆中扩散
那些青涩的小伙子都已
在我背后的国度变成半拉老头
他们欲望依旧而动力疲软
不再做年轻气盛时该做的事情
可是所有男人最终都要枯萎着
进入历史，成熟为完整的阉人……”
From a shoulder of an artificial hill among the pines
The full moon could be seen rising by a white pagoda
The park’s gate was already closed, and that was a stolen scene
In a dangerous corner in 1980s when patrolling guards
And hoodlums were active at nights of the first open-door years
A couple of days earlier on the campus, by a stone table under wisteria
His hand forced its way into her bra, and one by one
It cupped her younger-than-a-palm breasts and she gradually gave up
When his fingers reached her pubes, she suddenly collapsed
Letting loose the tautness of legs, and sobs and shivers welled up
Then she woke in his arms from stiffness to suppleness
At the gush of morning sun, he came on the stony ground by her hand
They parted repressed before a momentous turmoil boiled
And years later, she, divorced in another country, wrote about her feminine youth
“We did not do, we did not do
We rotated at the eye of revolution
And orgasmed at a young man’s rude touch
And then we escaped
The faith we were inculcated in the trinity
Of polygamy, patriarchy and monarchy
Is cancerous even in my recollection
When I write this poem today
All those lads have become half old men
In the country behind my back
Whose flaccid drives can no long do
What should have been done in the bold youth
But all men will wither into history
Maturing into intact eunuchs…”
March 27, 2011
偷来一幕三场
从松树丛中的假山肩头
可以看到月亮从白塔身侧冉冉升起
公园已经关了门，那是偷来的
风景，在八十年代一个危险的角落
巡夜者与流氓共存于开放之初的深夜
几天之前，在校园紫藤廊下的小石桌旁
他将一只手强行塞入她的胸衣，逐一
捂过那对不足一握的乳房
当他的手指抚摸到了她的阴阜，她突然决堤
双腿的紧绷溃消，抽泣与颤抖随之翻涌于周身
然后她的冰冷在他的怀中苏醒，从僵硬到柔软
朝阳喷薄时，他借她的手泄精于坚硬的地面
一场骚乱前，他们怀着抑郁各自离去
多年后，她皈依女性主义，在异国写她的青春
“我们没做，我们没做
我们在革命公转中自转
小毛头生硬的触摸就已高潮
然后胆怯地逃跑
我们一贯被灌输
一夫多妻、父权与帝王制的三位一体
时至今日我写着这首诗
它仍如癌细胞一般在回忆中扩散
那些青涩的小伙子都已
在我背后的国度变成半拉老头
他们欲望依旧而动力疲软
不再做年轻气盛时该做的事情
可是所有男人最终都要枯萎着
进入历史，成熟为完整的阉人……”
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