Three poems by Liu Xia, translated by Ming Di and Jennifer Stern.
These poems are forthcoming in Empty Chairs: Selected Poems from Graywolf Press, November 3, 2015. Read more about Liu Xia and her work at PEN America.
毒藥
by Liu Xia梵高的耳朵傳遞給我
緊張如大地就要崩潰的消息
警惕那些天空如洗的夜晚
餐桌中央怒放的鮮花
書本裡有序的語句
電視台關於氣候的消息
卡夫卡眼睛的瘋狂
守護最後一縷爐火
如同天災後農人守護
地裡唯一一穗高梁
我是這個世界的毒藥
看見白雪覆蓋下
大地正在腐爛的屍體
屍體上蠕動的蛆
別想用純潔來欺騙我
不要掩藏死亡
不要人造的天堂
偽天使們熱烈的目光
不如一根枯黃的稻草
一隻香煙燃盡的輝煌
1/1997
Poison
by Liu XiaVan Gogh’s ear sends me an urgent message
that the earth is about to collapse.
Beware of the white-washed night sky
the flowers in full bloom on the dining room table
the orderly lines of sentences in a book
the weather forecast on TV
and Kafka’s crazy eyes.
Guard the last ray of fire
like farmers guarding the only sorghum
left in a field after a natural disaster.
I am the poison of this world.
I can see a rotting corpse, the earth,
covered in snow
and I can see wriggling maggots.
Do not try to fool me with purity.
Do not hide death.
Do not build an artificial paradise.
The warm look from the eyes of a fake angel
is worse than the glory of straw yellowing
or a cigarette burning out.
1/1997
translated from Chinese by Ming Di & Jennifer Stern外祖父
by Liu Xia落滿灰塵的向家祠堂
一片恍惚的陰影
徘徊不去
是你嗎?我面容模糊的外祖父
多少年了,我透過近視的雙眼
尋找你的手
觸摸我不曾走動過的歲月
在夢中回到你的家園
我知道你存在
舊照片上你發黃的青春
與這南方持久的碧綠
相距實在太遠
獨自一人時
我常常看到
你牽著我的手
我們一起走在一本又一本書中
心中充滿悲涼
沒有人告訴過我
關於你的任何一個微小的細節
似乎你生活在冰川期以前
而我又無力成為考古學家
我只能用心
把你交還給這些
單薄的詞語
你在陳舊的老宅裡
是否感到了一縷
新鮮的空氣
外祖父
2/1997
Grandfather
by Liu XiaIn the dusty ancestral hall,
a lingering shadow
doesn’t want to leave.
Is that blurred face you, grandfather?
For years, through my myopic
eyes, I’ve tried to seek your hands, to touch
the years I had never passed through.
In dreams, only, I arrive at your house.
I know you exist.
Your yellowed youth in old photos
looks alien in this
southern green.
When I’m alone, I often see you
holding my hand. Together
we walk through book
after book,
which fills me with chilling grief.
Nobody shares the details
of your life, as if you lived
before the ice age. It’s impossible
for me to become an archaeologist.
I can only put my whole self
into giving you back
to these thin, frail words.
In your old house, do you feel
a flash
of fresh air,
grandfather?
2/1997
translated from Chinese by Ming Di & Jennifer Stern給林昭
by Liu Xia我就這樣
久久地注視你的眼睛
輕輕地取出你嘴裡的棉團
你的嘴唇依然柔軟
你的墳墓空空蕩蕩
你的血燙傷了我伸出的手
如此寒冷又殘酷的死亡
讓九月燦爛陽光中獨坐的我
無法悲傷
任何形式的墓地
於熱愛自由的你
都過於輕浮
每年的陰曆十五
河上會佈滿河燈
卻招不回你的靈魂
你冷眼端坐在
卡夫卡筆下四處漂流的冥船上
看這個世界依然荒唐
北大百年校慶的舉杯歡呼
讓你冷冷大笑
喝吧喝吧喝吧
這是血呢
你在黑暗中說
9/1998
To Lin Zhao
by Liu XiaLike this, I look into your eyes,
and keep looking while
I gently take the cotton out of your mouth.
Your lips are still soft,
your tomb is empty,
your blood burns my outstretched hands.
Death, cold and cruel, makes me sit alone
in the September sun,
incapable of feeling sad.
Any kind of tomb
will seem frivolous
to freedom-loving you.
Mid-autumn, every year,
lanterns float on the river,
but they can’t call your soul back.
Your eyes cold, you sit
on the nether-boat that sails under Kafka’s pen
looking out at the absurd world.
The toasts for the centennial of Peking University
make you laugh and sneer.
Drink drink drink,
this is blood,
you say in the darkness.
9/1998
translated from Chinese by Ming Di & Jennifer Stern