死海
这是你的街道 这是你的口音
这是你的肉 剁碎的馅儿
打包一个死海
订制自己的腐臭
一张皮儿明晃晃平铺海面
擀了又擀 欢庆需要一道花边
死蝙蝠 兔子 鹿 裸出小白骨
举报奔跑 举报呼吸
嗅觉 举报分子们飞在空中的集会
肺 举报暗藏血红的数据
电视上一张浮雕的胖脸一字一顿
宣读举报者鱼贯踅入口罩补丁的脸
水蒸气的花边追赶一只刚揭开的笼屉
焦糊味儿的花边顶着纪律的发型
死鱼们随波逐流 不奢望逃到水下
你的世界没有水下
只剩光秃秃的 被剥露的盐
暴晒体内的岩石浪花
每个早晨 四面八方转换脏话的频道
关掉心 那根鱼刺
这是你的荣耀 唾沫湿透的封条
援建一座座空城的花边
一个海陪你变慢 变老 变瞎
什么也没变 此地 活不是例外
是罪恶 而撤不掉的惩罚的宴席
平端一碗荡漾视野的苦咸
你的实名制眼泪 每一滴
高擎祖国的认证
一团爆炸的阳光也在胖脸深处溅开
继续配给不可解封的DNA
包紧 吞咽 骨灰瓮慷慨的亲情
一枚硕大的病毒贴近你耳语
死海
Yang Lian
Yang Lian and I have been working together for more than 25 years now, and have published more than twenty books and pamphlets in that time. He grew up first in Berne, then in Cultural Revolution Beijing; I grew up first in Lagos, then in ’50s and ’60s Scotland: we have learned to bridge the gaps between us and speak with one voice through the strange ventriloquism that is poetry translation.
Some twelve to fifteen years ago, Yang was primarily interested in stretching the limits of language until he found a breaking point (see Concentric Circles, Bloodaxe Books, 2005). Since then, and especially in Narrative Poem (Bloodaxe Books, 2017), and Anniversary Snow (Shearsman Books, 2019), he has turned to a more personal poetry, exploring his own experience and reaching out to a troubled world. One of his major themes is the reconciliation of modernity with China’s classical traditions. His current work, of which Dead Sea is a good example, is possessed of a saeva indignatio which he has turned on government responses to COVID-19, the popular upheavals in Hong Kong, and the global climate crisis. His poetry is a dense tessellation of images, often hard for the translator to disentangle, which build and build to powerfully symphonic effect.
I have tried in my translations to keep something of the rhythms and sonorities of Yang’s rich Beijing speaking voice, as well as his deliberate attempts to create a ‘non-poetic’ diction, reminiscent in its way of Hugh MacDiarmid’s use of academic English jargon in the massive and magisterial In Memoriam James Joyce. I hope I have succeeded in giving the reader a glimpse of this impassioned, richly-textured and original verse.
Some twelve to fifteen years ago, Yang was primarily interested in stretching the limits of language until he found a breaking point (see Concentric Circles, Bloodaxe Books, 2005). Since then, and especially in Narrative Poem (Bloodaxe Books, 2017), and Anniversary Snow (Shearsman Books, 2019), he has turned to a more personal poetry, exploring his own experience and reaching out to a troubled world. One of his major themes is the reconciliation of modernity with China’s classical traditions. His current work, of which Dead Sea is a good example, is possessed of a saeva indignatio which he has turned on government responses to COVID-19, the popular upheavals in Hong Kong, and the global climate crisis. His poetry is a dense tessellation of images, often hard for the translator to disentangle, which build and build to powerfully symphonic effect.
I have tried in my translations to keep something of the rhythms and sonorities of Yang’s rich Beijing speaking voice, as well as his deliberate attempts to create a ‘non-poetic’ diction, reminiscent in its way of Hugh MacDiarmid’s use of academic English jargon in the massive and magisterial In Memoriam James Joyce. I hope I have succeeded in giving the reader a glimpse of this impassioned, richly-textured and original verse.
Yang Lian began writing as a teenager in the 1970s, when he was sent down to the country. He is one of the founding members of the influential Misty School of poets (Menglong Pai). Since the 1980s, he has become known for his book-length poem sequences, which display a profound understanding of classical Chinese poetry, and which attempt to forge links between modern society and the depth and richness of the classical tradition. He became an exile in 1989, after the Tiananmen massacre, when he was in New Zealand. Since then, he has forged a reputation as a unique voice in world literature. He has published twelve collections of poetry in Chinese, and his work has been translated into more than thirty languages. He now lives in Berlin.
Brian Holton translates poetry and prose from modern and classical Chinese into English and Scots. He has published a dozen books of Yang Lian’s work, most recently, Anniversary Snow (Shearsman Books, 2019), Venice Elegy (Edizioni Damocle, 2019), and Narrative Poem (Bloodaxe Books, 2017). His collection of classical poems in Scots, Staunin Ma Lane, was published by Shearsman Books in 2016. He makes regular appearances at conferences and literary festivals, and has lectured at universities in the UK, Europe, the USA, New Zealand, China, Hong Kong, and elsewhere. He has also won prizes for his translations and his own original poetry.
