Yidan Han

  Contributing Editor:
  Kyle David Anderson

Claudia Keelan

Claudia Keelan is the author of four books of poetry and the director of the MFA International at University of Nevada, Las Vegas. She lives in Arden, Nevada, with her husband and two children.



Mario Li


Poet and translator. Under Chinese pen name Laoha, he translates and writes poems both in English and Chinese. He was born in China in 1960 and now lives in Northern Nevada, USA.



She bought the teapot because it was broken & broken still valuable, A thing not available to her otherwise. On its restored surface a pastoral Flickered once. Too late. She was not honest but she was a poet Mending the broken valuable . . . "What absolute nonsense!" cried the Earthworm. "Nothing Is ever all right in the end and well you know it." Poor Earthworm, Ladybug whispered, Loving all that is disaster Bellydown breathing with it everafter.


茶壶虽破却仍有价值, 她买了下来, 因为如果没破就没她的份儿。 茶壶外表原本隐约可见的田园景色 修补好后已不见踪影。可惜! 她不算诚实但她是一个诗人, 把补救已损的有用物品看作本分。 “这绝对是在胡说八道!”蚯蚓哭述, “末了一切都没好结果,这你知道。” 可伶的蚯蚓, 花瓢虫低语道, 爱上了所有的那些灾难, 从此随灾难一起爬下喘息。

Au Revoir


Something happened to time Or something happened to the mind In time in the months Of the 1st year after The 20th century ended Never before had the present Filled so with the past's Immediate and enormous Body Everything said Which was meant to be said now Was a mistake Now was over really & though We'd expected it to be over Years and years before Here we were There, the future oh my Inside its elephant alphabet


是时间出了毛病 还是头脑出了毛病 二十世纪结束后 第一年的这些日月里 如今的空间 竟破天荒地被过去 刚刚消失的庞大身体 充塞得如此的满 过去说了本该现在说的话 那是一个错误 如今实实在在地过去了 尽管我们期望它 多年前就已成为过去 这儿我们来过 那儿是未来,哎呀 它就在那大象般的字母里



It was love and then it was poetry but it was poetry that believed in love. It was doubt and then well, it was faith but it was poetry we worried the beads of. It was death and then ─or before then? in the actual face of─ in the deep pilings of─ fallen in the bagged old city of─and then it was life, savaged in the mouthings, scraped in the garbage tin of, ate in the holy oh holy day of it was life but it was poetry we closed her lids with.


先是爱情,然后 是诗歌。 但是是诗歌 才对爱情深信不疑。 先是怀疑,然后 是信仰。 但是是诗歌 让我们最为操心。 先是死亡,然后 --- 或者没有然后? 在现实的面前--- 在林林总总的情形下--- 坠入臃肿的老城中--- 然后,才是生活, 言辞的粗暴, 垃圾桶的磕磕碰碰, 在神圣又神圣的日子里, 吞没掉的是生活。 但是是诗歌, 我们靠她才得以盖得紧紧。

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