Yidan Han

  Contributing Editor:
  Kyle David Anderson

Huo Junming


Huo Junming is a poet, critic and scholar. He was born in Fengrun, Hebei and now lives in Beijing. He has published two books of poetry, including Some Things Speak for Us and Cherishing Snow. His other books: The Reincarnation of Peach Blossoms: Chen Chao's Biography; The Embarrassing Generation; Poetic Spirits of the New Century; From the Square to the Local; and Replacement, Rhetoric and Imagination. He has received the annual Youth Theorist Prize in Poetry, the Yangzi River Poetics Award, and the People's Literature and Southern Literary World Critics of the Year Award.


Edna Wu

武庆云是《云雨情:中国到美国回忆录》、《伊甸园里俩夏娃, 男妈妈》和《单一鸟》的作者。她的主要学术与翻译著作有:《中英乌托邦文学中的女权统治》(1996年《选择》杂志杰出学术著作)、《繁华梦:王筠传奇》《第三只眼》、《远方有个女儿国》等。她是加州州立大学中文教授。

Edna Wu is the author of Clouds & Rain: A China-to-America Memoir, Two Eves in the Garden of Eden & A Male Mother, and A Single-Winged Bird. Her major academic and translation publications include Female Rule in Chinese and English Literary Utopias (A 1996 CHOICE Outstanding Academic Book), A Dream of Glory: A Chuanqi Play by Wang Yun, a novel about the Chinese People's Liberation Army: The Third Eye, and The Remote Country of Women. She is professor of Chinese at California State University, Los Angeles.


Scales Are Shining From The Dark Crevices Of The Fish

收拾一条东海岸寄来的干鱼 板硬得像一段上了色的枯木 盐粒簌簌崩落 生活在黄昏又多了一层咸苦 把它们用清水泡软 盐和鱼都来自大海 捕鱼的和晒盐的都是彼此的陌生人 你和另一个人隔着日常之水 北方的夜带着即将降临的雪意 鳞片在冬天的白瓷灯下闪亮 一个个揭开 片瓦不存的屋顶 薄硬干脆的鳞片弹射进水池里,案板上 地上也是 还带到了卧室的地板上 其他的被池水带入更深的下方和黑暗 几天后 那些鳞片还沾在我的头发里 裤子的褶皱上,夹杂在 毛衣上,鞋帮里 我带着这些鱼鳞 走在北方的街上 那些暗处的亮光 没有任何人察觉


Cleaning a dried fish mailed from the East Coast I found its flat body as hard as colored dead wood With salt granules falling like an avalanche It adds another layer of salty bitterness to my life at dusk I softened them in the pure water Salt and fish both come from the sea Yet the fisherman and the salt worker are strangers to each other Just like you and the other are partitioned by the water of routine life The northern night was heralding a snowstorm With fish scales glistening in the white porcelain lamp light of the winter Unscaled piece by piece A roof completely stripped of its tiles The thin hard and crispy scales shot into the sink, onto the chopping board, Down to the ground Some leaping to the bedroom floor and The rest being flushed deep into the underworld and darkness A few days later Those scales are still sticking on my hair and Between the creases of my pants, blending with the wool of My sweater and swimming in my shoes I am carrying those fish scales and Walking on the street in the northern land Of those lights twinkling in the dark crevices No one has been aware.


Things Speak For Us

每次起夜去洗手间 我都会愣在那里几秒钟 仿佛母亲突然走失了 她的假牙正浸泡在瓷杯的盐水里 村里曾经有一个大傻子 每天光着屁股乱跑 作为一个男人 我却从来不敢直视他的裆部 废品收购站的墙角 有一个一米多高的破烂的史努比 它有时站着,有时躺着,有时又跪着 像极了一个人的一生


Every night when I got up to urinate I would be standing in the bathroom, stupefied for a few seconds As if my mother suddenly went lost while Her denture was still soaked in the salt water of the porcelain cup There used to be a big fool in the village Running around every day with naked butt But being a man I never dared to look direct at his crotch At the corner of the Recycling Station A tattered Snoopy, over a meter high, is Occasionally standing, occasionally lying down, occasionally squatting Exactly like the life of a human being.

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