Shu Dandan, a contemporary Chinese poet and translator, born in Changde, Hunan Province in 1972, now lives in Guangzhou. Her poems and translations have appeared in various poetry journals and anthologies. Her poetry collections include A Dragonfly Visiting, Oranges In Late Autumn. She is also the translator of several English poetry collections, including Collected Poems of Philip Larkin, Complete Poems of Raymond Carver, and Selected Poems of Paul Muldoon. Her works also include An Album of Paintings and Poems. She is the recipient of numerous national poetry awards and translation awards, including "Poetry Exploration Award", "The Best Poet Award 2016", etc. She has ever been invited to participate in many international poetry festivals including The 3rd Iasi International Poetry Festival in Romania, and was honored with the title of "Poetry Ambassador" by the government of Iasi.
Poking my body out of the iron railing of the balcony, I take a deep breath.
With leaves as green and bright as a mass of oxygen,
The faint sounds of the city make the quiet street
More cool and refreshing. This is the first dusk in Bucharest.
The sunset glow hasn't faded away, while street lights gradually on.
In a cafe named "Hug", the blonde beauty with deep eyes
Is smiling on the signboard, "Have you hugged your beer today?"
Oh, except for the exotic beauty, I have nothing to hug.
My eyelids have been fighting with jet lag all day long.
How strong are habits: our stomachs, memory,
And love, familiar with their old acquaintances only.
Wandering on a strange street, we distinguish
The moving of each ray of daylight, whose tardiness is totally different
From my daily life. Among the carefree and contented crowd,
I think of our bustling days in the past. No matter all alone
Or blending in the trees, painted halls,
Or strange faces with my buddies, it's always been a lonely trip
In heart. But how precious the solitude is!
A kind of healing, a transitory dissociation and regression.
Therefore I look again every old corner up and down
In Bucharest, as if exploring the history of a strange person,
While he knows little about me, which makes me feel suddenly a personal mystery,
Even somehow or other, prevailing.