Born in 1982 in Sichuan Province. Graduated from Japanese Department, Beijing International Studies University. Her works have appeared in various journals and websites including E-zone, The World Poets Quarterly, China Radio International and China Daily official website. In 2006, she won second prize in a commenting competition organized by Reader.
Wrestling with Chaos Inside
他跟从这条线 动作 像向日葵上一条尺蠖 悄然而轻柔
颠覆的方向 搅乱的秩序 困扰的感知
一如既往 他 热爱缥缈和摇摇欲坠的生命
肌腱疲惫 晕眩加重 时空失去意义……
It felt like being frozen in the core of an optical fiber,
When shadow of the clumsily-hanged lamp fanned under his feet.
He was a bat stuck among his own ultrasonic beams in horror,
Red letters in Gothic Script on the walls seem to sweat in heat.
During last night's earth tremor the clock in half broke,
Inches of ashes of Indian incense crawled in his wooden Geta.
But today in a music-box-sized coffin his soul woke,
With strings attached like cobweb upon a swallow’s feather.
Like a glossy skeleton he stretched an arm down,
Into the matrix of mirrors arrayed in a domino shape.
Intending to grip the epicenter shrouded in mantle beneath the town,
But his nerve ending touched chaos wrapped in a dark cape.
Long before he'd found a fourth half-line hidden in every corner,
An aiming line to peep the world from a four-dimensional angle of view.
He sneaked along it, as softly as an inchworm on a sunflower,
And as awkwardly as a steel-toothed rifle that can a railway chew.
Directions inverted, order disturbed, consciousness challenged.
He never forgot holding on the unstable and fictional life.
Muscles fatigued, vertigo deteriorated, concept of time changed.
But suddenly he felt a blow on his back flicked by his wife.
A Chameleon-Ridden Chariot
A bronze chariot ridden by chameleons radiating flaring lights,
Like a gryphon puffing flames, crashed through Night’s staggered saber-like tusks.
Where the attenuated darkness effervesced like boiling egg whites,
Had blanketed the slanting directions beneath visions’ dim husks.
A savage howl, like an ominous setting sun, punctured immortality so slimy and solemn,
As if a stone lion shot out a fissured emerald bead covered with saliva.
A Judas wearing black cockscomb had hidden himself in the shaded volutes of an Ionic column,
The ultramarine blue sky weighing on his hunched back overloaded this survivor.
Like spilt quicksilver, hoarse growls rolled over the lurid weeds like thunders,
Directions snapped in the middle like a contorted Revenge Cube in the quivers.
A silver-mantled knight dived in like a flash of daylight with blazing wonders,
From which bubbles of condensed rays sparkled and broke into shivers.
The horizon bristled with cancer-like multiplying curved faces had begun aging,
Before his axe released from it purplish blood clots and ginger-juice-colored brains.
Like agarics the blood crusts scatter into the furrows left by the chariot overwhelmingly raging,
The compound eyes looking up from their trodden-down souls at life’s chains.
The knight carved the chariot and the chameleons that had embossment become,
When God did the same with the eggshell of this red-yoked universe centuries ago.
Then crystal scraps of all these rising in the dazzling beams added to their sum,
And echoes of the harsh silence around spread like sunshine over snow.
Let's Kill the Bridge
譬如复仇 垄断 征服和黑夜
Let's kill the bridge
And force out the engulfed space entirely from its cavities
When its shadow sticking in pupil of the fiery sinking sun
Will fall to ground like a fishbone and be smashed
We are plainclothes killers independent from one another
Playing the role of a desperado in our own segregated world of logics and crimes
At intervals we exchange artificial greetings and say prayers in Esperanto
And propose a toast for insipid topics about weather or politics
In the handbag we carry grenades, razor blades and poisons
Underneath our casual T-shirt we have tattoos, revolvers and rings
With the borderline of the bulwarks in our inner world
We paint our indisputable laws along the silhouette of boulevards and skyscrapers
Let's kill the canals and roads
Using our bullets that were almost frozen over in solitude
Like a group of cold and taciturn samurais
We prefer bleeding than crying, the trigger than the tongue
Let's kill the mountains and canyons
These must exists something that can ally us and make us sworn brothers
For example –revenge, hegemony, conquer and darkness
Or a certain kind of warmth irrelevant to primitive passion
Then let's kill vision and sympathy
And leave this hemisphere denuded of natural and human landscape
Only lives and faiths remain there, standing solemnly
Like unbending reinforcing steels hammered into this planet