Yidan Han

  Contributing Editor:
  Kyle David Anderson

Gao Xing


Gao Xing, was born in 1963. He is a poet and translator, as well as a member of Chinese Writers Association. He is now the editor-chief of World Literature. He has visited, lived and worked in tens of European countries as the writer, scholar and the diplomatist. His published works include the monograph and essays, such as Biography of Milan Kundera, Prague-the cobbled road in Blue Rain. His editor-in-chief works include some large-scale foreign literature books, such as the Poetry in Poetry, the Novel in Novel. He has become the chief editor of series book of Blue Eastern Europe since 2012. His translated works mainly include Van Gogh, Daisy Miller, Jacques and his Master,Lovely Smile, Anthology of Ana Blandiana, My First Love, Dreamlike Palace, Anthology of Thomas Venclova, Contemporary Lyric Poetry of Romania, Water Margin and Billions of Vagrants, or Nothingness, etc.


Liang Yujing


Liang Yujing grew up in China and is currently a PhD candidate at Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand. He is the Chinese translator of Best New Zealand Poems 2014 (Wai-te-ata Press) and the English translator of Zero Distance: New Poetry from China (Tinfish Press).


Water Bird

绝没有料到 水面上也会冷不丁地 冒出带着斑纹图案的障碍 这难道是天空投下的幻影? 水鸟眨了眨眼 小心翼翼地游近,用喙试了试 又赶紧缩回。该如何是好? 该如何是好?水鸟停在水中 琢磨着,迟疑着 仿佛有三条路摆在面前: 折返,潜泳,或者飞翔 三条路,三种可能,三个方向 只见那水鸟先是折返,游了 几步,随后转身,一个猛子 潜入水中,片刻之后又在 障碍的那边,露出头颈 最终奋力一搏,飞了起来 朝向天空,朝向自己所认定的 远方,将三条路变成了一条路 三种可能变成了一种可能 三个方向变成了一个方向 那水鸟才有资格谈论自由 可它却什么也没说 它已什么也不用说了


Out of the blue, a striped obstacle abruptly emerges from the water. Or is it a shadow of the sky? The water bird, blinking, swims near, taps his beak on it, suddenly retreats. What shall I do? What shall I do? The bird stays in the water, pondering, hesitating, as if there are three paths before him: backtracking, diving, or flying. Three paths, three possibilities, three directions. Then the bird goes back, swims a few strokes, turns around again, diving into the water. A moment later, across the obstacle, his head and neck resurface. Eventually he strives to fly up toward the sky, toward the horizon he believes in, turning the three paths, the three possibilities, the three directions, all into one. Only that bird is qualified to talk about freedom. He says nothing. There's no need for him to say anything.

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