Yidan Han

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  Kyle David Anderson

Jinghua Fan


Fan Jinghua, born in 1965, is a poet and translator. His poems have been published in literary magazines and anthologies in Mainland China, Taiwan, Japan, France, Singapore and USA, and he has been invited to poetry festivals. He is a university lecturer and lives in Singapore.


Jinghua Fan


As If I Have Done All The Things In My Life

像是一生的事已经做完,而我还没 成熟。一生的漫长漏进一个空隙。 我该羞愧,在家人的背后低头。 睡得沉实的人都已经活了一整天, 我翻阅着一位缄默者断奏似的诗, 努力回想日常小事的温度。 如咖啡馆独酌、对视、鲜辣火锅, 这些小喜悦,寻常得甚至庸常, 能疏浚那些词与词之间的隔膜吗? 谁能罱起镜底的黑泥,将镜中地貌 托起,成为群岛,犹如流觞? 犹如人们接踵而行,望着前面 另一只杯子的颈项,深深浅浅, 忘记水流的载负,忘记 自己的脚失重地吊在水中。 谁有床而不睡?有嘴而不吃? 没有脚但会移动, 时而喃喃却从不说话? 谜语勾人,像幸福一样迷人。 像在灯罩后。难以召回, 令人失眠的梦和爱意浓浓的言词。 人们说起的幸福,犹如电击; 那满树的樱花灿灿,我无色地坠落。 对下一轮无知无识,何谈再度降临?


As if I have done all the things in my life, and yet I have not matured. A long life seeps into a fissure. I should be ashamed, head down behind my family. Those who sleep tight have lived through a day, And I linger over the poems by a master of silence, Trying to retrieve the warmth of small things: A lone espresso at a café, a look into the eyes, a spicy hotpot. Can these common things, small and even banal, dredge The blockages between the words, beneath the staccato of a poem? Who could scoop up the silt from the bottom of a mirror, Raising the terrain from the depth to form an archipelago, As if a string of floating wine-bowls, reflecting the one in front? So people look at the neck before them, drifting along, And forget that they are drifted by the flow, Forgetting that their feet are hanging in the mid-water. What has a bed but never sleeps? What has a mouth But never eats? What has no feet but forever moves? What often moans but never speaks? A riddle is intriguing and titillates like happiness, But happiness hides behind a lampshade, irretrievable Like insomniac dreams and love-making words. Whenever a happy love flares up, I get electrified; By a treeful of cherry blossoms, I fall, heavy and blank. Don't babble about the second coming if knowing nothing about the next.

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