Liang Yujing translates Zuo You

Liang YujingLiang  Yujing writes in both English and Chinese,  and is now a lecturer, in China, at Hunan  University of Commerce. His publications include Willow Springs, Wasafiri, Epiphany, Boston Review, Los Angeles Review, Bellevue Literary Review, and many  others.

 

 

 

 

 

Zuo YouZuo  You is a Chinese poet based in Xi’an. His poems have appeared in some major  literary magazines in China. He is hearing-impaired and can only speak a few  simple words.

 

 

 

 

The Hotel

Celestial trees stand upside down outside the window. The train a crackless gap
falling down from the clouds. Tonight I stay with bats,
crooning for darkness. Rocks contract their four fingers.

The wall gradually resembles the face of my grandma who died a decade ago.
Empty bells mingle with streetlight. Under the moon,

the tea is fragrant. A woman guest stays in the adjoining room, playing the flute.
One of her oil-copper breasts lies outside the quilt. Laden with grief,

she plays a series of vacant echoes.
Whose cat suddenly jumps on the table? A teacup rolls. It keeps up its courage:
tiptoed, it creeps into the hot edge of the woman guest’s quilt.


旅馆

左右
窗外倒立着天空的树。火车像云朵上掉下来的
没有裂痕的缺口。今夜我和蝙蝠们在一起
为黑暗低歌。岩石紧缩着四个手指头
墙面越来越和逝去十年的老祖母——脸庞吻合 

空荡荡的钟,和路灯交杂在一起。月光下
茶香喷喷。吹笛的女旅客,住在我左手隔壁
她一只油铜色的乳房,掉在被外。忧伤满面
吹出空荡荡的回声 

谁家的猫突然窜在桌面上,茶杯翻滚。它一直在鼓足勇气:
轻手轻脚,溜进女旅客滚烫的被角

 


Horary Chart

Cold night falls. It keeps raining. The air is fresh.
Inside me, a horary chart is turning without stop. Petals clinging to the ground.
A conscious wind gently knocks at my door. The sandglass on my lips has foretold:
my dream will go back to where you are lost.

 

桃花上的卦盘

寒夜来临。雨一直下着,带有清新的空气
身体里的卦盘旋转个不停,花瓣沾在地角
风随意识轻轻敲门。唇上的沙漏预告过我:

在哪里遗失过你,我就梦回哪里