Yidan Han

  Contributing Editor:
  Kyle David Anderson

Tang Yangzong


Tang Yangzong was born in Fujian, China in 1959. Once served in the Navy. He is the author of several books of poetry, including Water Gypsy, Stunner, Eleven Letters Sent to Heaven. He won the People's Literature Award, the Chinese Year's Best Poetry Award, and Poetry Periodical annual poetry award.


Joan Xie

谢炯, 诗名炯, 出生在上海。八十年代就读于上海交通大学管理系,1988年留学美国,取得企业管理硕士和法律博士学位。出版诗集《半世纪的旅途》(2015),散文集《蓦然回首》(2016),中文诗集《幸福是,突然找回这样一些东西》(2018),英文翻译诗集《十三片叶子》(2018)。2017年荣获首届德清莫干山国际诗歌节银奖。中文诗作发表在国内《诗刊》《扬子江诗刊》等文学诗刊。英文诗作和翻译作品发表在美国《诗天空》《唇》,《文学交流》等文学诗刊。

Joan Xie was born in Shanghai where she attended Shanghai Jiaotong University. She came to the United States in 1988 to study business and law. Xie's Chinese poetry and essay collections include Half-Century Journey (2015), Looking Back (2016), Nothing Made Me Happier than Finding These Objects (2018) and she is the editor of Thirteen Leaves (2018). In 2017, she received a Silver award at First Moganshan International Poetry Festival in China. Her poems in Chinese appeared in well-known poetry magazines in China, such as Poetry Journal and The Yangtze River Poetry Journal. Her translations appeared in Exchanges Literature Journal, LIPS and Poetry Sky.


A Nail in the Hole is a Lonely Nail

一想到天下的钉子这刻正钉在各自的 钉孔中,就悲从中来,喘不过气 一想到它们,正被自己的命夹住 在一头黑到底中 永不见天日,再无法脱身 便立即抬腿,想拔地而起,奔向天涯路 如你我的深陷,这器 偏爱囹圄,甘于委身 给自己挖井,去找要打进去的部位,去活埋 去黑暗内部,接受 时光指定的刑期。一进去就黑到底


Thinking that all nails in this world are deep in their own separate holes, you are sad and out of breath. Thinking of how they are caught by their own fates in the darkness, never seen the day light, unable to get out, you want to get up immediately, run to the end of the world. Like us, nail commits itself to the hole, its own deep well. It finds a place to enter, enter and then to be buried alive. It must go to the core of the darkness to accept the sentence passed down by time, forever.


Paper Life

在纸上挖山,种树,开河流,当建筑师 也陪一些野兽睡觉,当中,还喜欢 看夕阳西沉,怀想谁与谁不在眼前 便又涂改两三字。至此 一张纸才真正进入黑夜 更多时候,我绕着纸上的城堡跑 在四个城门都做下记号 为的是让时光倒流,也为了可以 活得更荒芜些。我借此相信 一个人有另一座坟地另一个故乡 并可以活得与谁都无关 这一捅就破的生活,为什么要一捅就破 真是命如纸薄,每当我无法无天 像个边远的诸侯,过得真假难辨 便知道,这就叫纸包着火 我又要撕了这一张,在人前假惺惺再活一遍


On paper, I dig mountains, plant trees, open waterways, design buildings, sleep with beasts, in the midmost, watch the setting sun and recount those long gongs, then, correct two or three words. thus, a piece of paper finally enters the night. More often, I run around a castle on the paper, marking four gates to let the time turn back for a less, fruitful life. Thus, I believe that one can live without others if one had another graveyard in another hometown. This life is as thin as a sheet of paper. This fate is as thin as a sheet of paper. Whenever I act recklessly like a remote prince, befuddling reality with illusion, I would use a sheet of paper to wrap up fire. Now I want to tear off this sheet and pretend to live once more.

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