4 poems
Tunnel Warfare
I always want to build a subterranean tunnel
Which my rivals and all the antitheses in the universe
Couldn’t make heads or tails of it will by no means
Be like a mole very impetuously concealing
Its timidity at the mere rustle of leaves in the wind
Or be like an earthworm disliking the tenebrosity
In the world for not being fierce enough
Thereby burrowing through the underground
To look for a darker tenebrosity and then dwelling inside
Or be like the underground tunnels in the Qin Mountains
Having perforated the belly of a deity
Tormented by spacious pitch-dark mortifiedness
And vacuously and frustratedly waiting for their retribution
The subterranean tunnel I always want to build
Has been designed in my heart for many years
Located at the extremities of all cardinal directions
And a location without any address
It is by no means abstract instead very concrete
For example it would be right on a precipice
In its leisure time a kind of bird
Never heard of before would fly over
Dwell for a period of time while taking advantage
Of the occasion to reproduce and parent
If it were in a canyon the wild beasts having vanished
In legends would come back crisscross the tunnel
And then disappear without leaving any traceable vestige
For another example if a person is fortunate enough to live there
He could only light the place with candles
And breathe the fragrance and scent of plants
With his cell phone signal automatically vanished
For another instance only I would be familiar with the path to it
The stalkers having been thrown off by me one by one
At crucial moments would abruptly stop
At a crossroad looking right and left
At their wits’ end like blind men
I have always been building such a tunnel
Maybe when it’s finished it won’t come in handy
Or maybe one day actually for no rhyme or reason
I would just want to play the hide-and-seek game with myself
I would go there
To hide away
地道战
我一直想修一条地道 一条让对手
和世界全部的对立面 丈二和尚
摸不着头脑的地道 它绝不是
要像鼹鼠那样 一有风吹草动
就非常迅疾地藏起自己的胆小
不是要像蚯蚓那样
嫌这世上的黑暗还不够狠
还要钻入地里去寻找更深的黑暗
然后入住其中 也不是要像在秦岭山中
那些穿破神的肚子的地洞一样
被黑洞洞的羞愧折磨着 空落落地等待报应
我一直想修的那条地道 在我心里
已设计多年 它在所有方位的尽头
它在没有地址的地址上
但它并不抽象 反而十分具体
比如它就在那么一座悬崖上 空闲的时候
有一种闻所未闻的鸟就会飞来
住上一段时间 乘机也可以生儿育女
如果它是在某个峡谷里 那些消失在
传说中的野兽就会回来 出入其中
离去时不留下任何可供追寻的踪印
比如一个人要是有幸住在那里
只能用蜡烛照明 用植物的香气呼吸
手机信号会自动隐没
比如只有我一个人 才谙熟通向那地道的路
那些盯梢的人 关键的时候被我一一甩掉
他们会突然停下来 在十字路口
像盲人一样 左顾右盼
不知所措
我一直在修造着这样一条地道 或许
临到终了它也派不上什么用场
或许有那么一天 其实是无缘无故地
我只是想玩玩自己和自己
捉迷藏的游戏 于是去了那里
把自己藏起来
Whales
The man living in a desert
Is witnessing the demise of many lakes
By his side with his dark blue eyes
As translucent and profound as seawater
He and he scattered by the sand dunes
Undulating like billows, to different places
Are people without neighbors
Taciturn for a lifetime
And when occasionally meeting together
Will talk about the ocean
They have never seen in a lifetime
The ocean’s dark mass of inky blue
And whales’ astonishing white
And secret prowls as of a warship
The people living in the desert
Comprehend very well the ocean and whales
And converse with each other about the accurate
Inevitable hours of an ocean and a pod of whales
And how they are resurrected and resuscitated
As if awakened, by the melody by a mermaid
On a desperate reef after their quietuses
鲸鱼
住在沙漠上的人 眼看着许多湖泊在身边死去
他的眼睛是深蓝色的
眼睛像海水一样澄澈深邃
他和他 被巨浪般起伏的沙丘分散在各处
他们是没有邻居的人
他们一辈子很少言谈 偶尔相遇在一起
会谈论到终生未见的大海
他们谈论大海
那黑压压的墨蓝
谈论鲸鱼惊人的白
以及军舰般秘密的潜行
住在沙漠上的人很了解大海和鲸鱼
住在沙漠上的人在相互谈论
一座大海和一群鲸鱼准确的死期
以及死亡之后 在绝望的礁石上
由于一条美人鱼的歌唱
那些大海和鲸鱼 仿佛睡醒一样
重又复活的样子
Night Train
Black rails traverse the vast expanse of the white North
Like two dejected human beings
And stretch into the Northern night’s
Tenebrosity not having been serene since last year
The kind of murkiness of the tottering boulders
Having been completely removed from a cliff by sappers
People leaving the North under the cover of late night
With an empty yet weary countenance
Are clinging close to the windows
As if having fallen into memories
They and the lights entrapped in the cars
Are gazing at each other
They just want to look at a place for the last time
(However it is by no means the only objective)
A village with no more signs of human habitation
One confined in its empty houses and deserted courtyards
One abruptly brightened up by the night train
Rushing out of a tunnel
And then speedily left behind
夜行车
黑铁轨经过白茫茫的北方
像两个失意的人
两条黝黑的铁轨伸入北方的夜里
那去年就不再安详的黑暗
悬崖上的危石已被工程兵
通通清理干净的黑暗
那些乘着夜深离开北方的人
他们空洞而疲倦的表情
像陷入回忆一样守着靠近窗户的地方
关在车厢里的灯光
与他们一同注视着 对方
他们只是想最后看一眼一个地方
（不过这绝不是唯一的目的）
一个人烟不再的村庄
一个被关在它的空房子里
和空荡荡的院落里的村庄
一个被冲出隧道的夜行车忽然照亮
又迅速甩在后面的村庄
Place I Passed by Occasionally
It seems to be a once relatively well worshipped temple
Or the courtyard of a man of fame
However it happened in a dynasty having died a long time ago
The dynasty existing once upon a time has vanished into thin air
A place with its owners never coming back again
And having nowadays been handed over to spiders to watch
Where even the scents of humans and ghosts will gradually dissipate
And where woods and slight murderous intentions
Live symbiotically and thrive further and further
It’s certain this place becoming barren for a long, long time
Will never become no matter how long it takes
Wolves’ heaven or fowl’s paradise
At the extremity of the heavens
我偶尔路过的一个地方
好像以前曾是一处香火还算鼎盛的庙宇
要不就是某个有名头之人的院落
但这都发生在早已死去的某个朝代
很久很久以前的朝代 已经灰飞烟灭
一个主人们再也不会回来的地方
一个如今已交给蜘蛛守候的地方
一个人气和鬼气渐渐都要散尽的地方
一个树林子和略微的杀气
相伴而生 越长越旺的地方
可以肯定的是 这个将要长久荒芜下去的地方
再过多久都不会成为天边
狼的天堂
和鸟的天堂
Yan An is a most famous poet in contemporary China, author of fourteen poetry books including his most famous poetry book Rock Arrangement which has won him The Sixth Lu Xun Literary Prize, one of China’s top four literary prizes. As the winner of various national awards and prizes, he is also the Vice President of Shaanxi Writers Association, the head and Executive Editor-in-Chief of the literary journal Yan River, one of the oldest and most famous literary journals in Northwestern China. In addition, he is a member of the Poetry Committee of China Writers Association. His poetry book A Naturalist’s Manor translated by Chen Du and Xisheng Chen will be published by Chax Press.
Chen Du has a Master’s Degree in Biophysics from Roswell Park Cancer Institute, the State University of New York at Buffalo and another from the Chinese Academy of Sciences. She revised more than eight chapters of the Chinese translation of the biography of Helen Foster Snow: An American Woman in Revolutionary China. In the United States, her translations have appeared in Columbia Journal, Lunch Ticket, Pilgrimage, The Los Angeles Review, and elsewhere, her essay was published by The Dead Mule and Hamline University English Department, her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Levitate, American Writers Review, and elsewhere, and her poetry chapbook was published by The Dead Mule. A set of three poems co-translated by her and Xisheng Chen was a finalist in the 2020 Gabo Prize for Literature in Translation & Multilingual Texts. She is also the author of the book Successful Personal Statements. Find her online at ofsea.com.
Xisheng Chen, a Chinese American, is an ESL grammarian, lexicologist, linguist, translator and educator. His educational background includes: top scorer in the English subject in the National College Entrance Examination of Jiangsu Province, a BA and an MA from Fudan University, Shanghai, China (exempted from the National Graduate School Entrance Examination owing to excellent BA test scores), and a Mandarin Healthcare Interpreter Certificate from the City College of San Francisco, CA, USA. His working history includes: translator for Shanghai TV Station, Evening English News, Lecturer at Jiangnan University, Wuxi, China, Adjunct Professor at the Departments of English and Social Sciences of Trine University (formerly Tri-State University), Angola, Indiana, notary public, and contract high-tech translator for Futurewei Technologies, Inc. in Santa Clara, California, USA. As a translator for over three decades, he has published a lot of translations in various fields in newspapers and journals in China and abroad.