Yidan Han

Alex Phillips

Alex Phillips is an Assistant Professor and Director of the Dean's Book Course at Commonwealth College, the honors college at the University of Massachusetts. His poetry and translations have appeared in journals such as Poetry, Open City, jubilat, and in Ted Kooser's newspaper column American Life in Poetry. His chapbook Under a Paper Trellis is published by Factory Hollow Press.



Edgar Dive


Born in 1972, Edgar Dive has studied at the London School of Economics and the Australian National University. He has published works in literary journals including Chien Kun Poetry Quarterly and Poetry Selected. He now lives in Hong Kong.

The Last Part of Flight


Life was starting somewhere. In the vines of an idea A mountainside Wearing mist like a veil The weather clear The uninterrupted fog The clarity of something lost As in the chamber of a camera Visions of What? We remembered The empire of snow Smothered every intention Until life became A formula consisting Of nothing but Equal signs as far as We could see. Everything is the same Along the roads From my front door To yours. At each end of the path We are one another When we think of each other When we design each other’s Movements to repel The loneliness We have only just begun To feel, but perhaps My attempt To invent an impossible Proximity was buried In this mist and this snow, Those things too Forcing themselves Into being, Taking their places Among the inevitable Objects defiant of my choices And then a sparrow, Or a cormorant, Or a shiny oil-slick crow.


生命在某处萌起。 在一个想法的蔓藤里 在一处戴着薄雾面纱 的山边 天气明朗 连绵不断的雾气 某些消失的事物的清晰 就像在相机的匣子里 那是何种事物 的景象? 我们记得 雪之帝国 扼杀了各种意图 直至,就我们 所见, 生活变成了 一条仅由等号 构成的公式。 从我的前门 直到你的前门 那些道路两旁的 所有事物都一样。 每当我们想起对方的时候 每当我们想像对方的 活动以驱散 孤独感的时候 我们互为一体 我们不过是刚开始 有感觉,但或许 这点我也只是 刚使之出现 我想虚构 一种不可能的 接近,而这种尝试 被掩埋在 这雾和这雪里的时候, 那些东西,也在 强迫自己 出现, 在我无从选择的 必然发生的意向中 找到自己的位置 而后是一只麻雀, 或一只鸬鹚 或一只油光润滑的乌鸦。

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