Yidan Han is the author of two books of poetry Standing against the Wind (1993) and Selected Poems of Green Voice (2004, bilingual).  She is a coauthor of the first Dictionary of Rhetoric (2000) and other four academic books in expounding classical Chinese poetry.  She grew up in Fujian, China and has been using Green Voice as her pen name to publish poems before 2005.  Her poems have appeared in many literary journals and anthologies in China, United States, Singapore and the Philippines and she has received a number of poetry awards in China and the US.  She is the founder and editor-in-chief of the first bilingual English and Chinese poetry website in the world poetrysky.com.  She lives in Providence, Rhode Island.

绿音，原名韩怡丹。生于中国福建。 新闻传播学士，文学创作硕士，福建省作家协会会员，曾任记者、编辑数年。著有诗集《临风而立》（1993）、《绿音诗选》（2004，中英双语诗集），合作编著中国第一部《辞章学辞典》（2000）以及四本中国古诗文评点译析导读书籍。 80年代曾任厦门大学《采贝诗刊》副主编。2004年12月创办“诗天空” poetrysky.com——全球首家中英诗歌双语网站，任主编。她的中、英文诗作发表于中国、美国、新加坡、菲律宾报刊及十几本诗选中，诗作曾在中美获多项诗创作奖。 她自2002年移居美国罗得岛州普罗维登斯。

一个形而上学的下午

A Metaphysical Afternoon

下午的阳光透过
百页窗
停留在
一幅画的寂寞之上

寂寞在音乐里
音乐在啤酒里
摇晃、沉浮、消失

啤酒在音乐里
狂舞、升腾
被消灭

一朵喇叭花正在枯萎
其藤蔓盘卷于红灌木上

一幅画正从墙上
向我走来

我想站起却被定格
音乐带着啤酒的泡沫
在我身边流动
			

The afternoon sunshine
passes through blinds,
landing on 
the solitude of a picture.

Solitude is in music.
Music in the beer,
dangles, floats and disappears.

Beer in music,
dances, ascends and is 
annihilated.

A petunia is perishing with
its stems curling above red bushes.

The painting is walking towards me
from the wall.

I try to stand up but am freezeframed while
music flows around me with
bubbles of beer.
			

表达

Expression

我在你面前燃烧
火焰照亮你
我在你眼中舞蹈
飘忽不定
却含情脉脉

当雨滴飘落
我也从你眼中滑落了
我在我的水晶宫里
用十种不同的语言
为爱祈祷

冬天我总是拥抱着一些花
做着稀奇古怪的梦
而你穿行在花朵之间
象蜜蜂一样歌唱

夏天我们在月亮上开假面舞会
我站在风的左边
摇曳多姿
然后我靠近你
呼吸
你的脸上有一种青草的味道

早晨你的脸象昙花一样凋谢
我看到远处的地球
迅速地打开了一扇扇门
要我回家
			

I am burning in front of you.
The flames light you up.
I am dancing in your eyes,
like the wind, floating in the air
with tenderness. 

When the raindrops fall,
I slip away from your eyes.
In my crystal palace,
I pray for love
in ten different languages.

I always hold some flowers in my arms
when I have strange dreams.
And you wander through the flowers,
singing like a bee.
 
In summer we have a masquerade on the moon.
I stand on the left of the wind,
swaying.
Then I get close to you, 
breathing.
Your face has a smell of grass.

In the morning your face withers like
a night-blooming cereus.
I see the distant earth
opening doors, 
one, then another,
to call me home.