fany

The Silhouette of September 《九月的侧面》

Have I gone through my blossom before? I don’t know.
- Prologue

The one I love sat upright on the yellowish paper of
SeptemberLike a sad young master.
The sunshine gradually withered into a beam of light.
In the darkness, he turned sideway,
And the ice-cold story fell down.

If I am still able to feel a little warmth,
I mean, the scent of his hair
Carried over by the wind.
Maybe not.But it’s not important.

I am getting tired of being rational,
Tired to distinguish between the dream and the reality.
It’s better this way.
There are flowers everywhere on the newly painted coach.
“I am leaving, don’t you know it?”

Translated by laoha (X.M. Li), 9/27/2004


The Colors Of Imaginations - A Set Of Poems (Selected Translations)
《幻色 (组诗) 》选译

Purple 《紫》

Once talking about the imaginations,
The romance goes on and on.
“This is a era of mixed-up colors.”
Even with only one night of east wind,
All the imaginations would be taken as happiness.

I mean this has nothing to do with the music.
There is no color of blood on the pale faces of the band,
Their spirits are endlessly sticking to the sunlight and the ring.
But I doubt if they have ever made a stop
Searching for the high temperature of some lost past.

Red 《红》

Would I be thinking of anything while we were hugging?
The nameless bird has been hovering over the sky for three years,
The cave opened, nobody there, and no fairies.

Either we go for the nirvana,
Or we get married.

White 《白》

This is really late in the evening.
The withered flowers of the yesterday
Darkened sunlight and windowsill.

You have thrown away the flowers I picked for you.
Those roses Were white.
After you splashed some rain on me,
The season of fall is always early, I have changed
The color of the spring into white,
The shade of your image when you were drinking.

Black 《黑》

One more time, we bowed at the end of the show,
Two of us,
The night is pretty cold.

Dancing on the same stage,
To look at my face, don’t be so close,
One meter of sunlight.
Give me a hug, one second is several years.

Chinese Red 《朱砂》

Your moon is split into two halves; one half is I,
And the other half is your bride.

The one in the mirror has flashy jade bracelets,
A mature mind, and fully blossomed chest.
The purple clothes is sweeping on the furniture of the carved wood,
And the heat is being given to the bed of carved wood.

I am an ink print in Chinese red
With grace like a letter in upper case.
Looking up in the sky,
The moon is split into two halves; one half is the shredded paper,
And the other half is in the heaven.

Translated by laoha (X.M. Li) on 9/24/2004.