#30DaysProject, Day 3
There are hundreds and thousands of Chinese poems I want to translate and share.
I found this exquisite poem on the internet today by the Chinese poet 肖开愚 (b.1960). He is a famous modern Chinese poet who lives in Berlin and works all over the world. He is also a visiting professor at the Shanghai Conservatory of Music.
He observed the moon until he lost sight in both of his eyes. He told her that he'd like to cry, wail.
She held his arms and walked down the front steps of the library, "but..." she said, "that is against our intention at the beginning."
Her shoulders quivered, she didn't understand the passion in her words. She begged him to place his weary forehead
on her chest and rest for a few minutes. She said "well?", then tears fell down. Poets with moon-language gain false fame; its blue, shiny sword punctures our existence. He said "I am an old-school astrologist, but still not a poet."
She told him that
in the distant land that is far away,
in the starry sky, holding his shadow, she speaks into his ears "I only love your corpse!"
She really wishes to tell him that she only loves his shadow.
He was discussing fame and profits to himself, on the main street,
while crossing the zebra crossing.
Car wheels are flying as fast as the swamp of people.
He said to her: "hurry! hurry!"
*Some strange syntax are just as strange in the original language. I try to preserve both
the meaning and the cadence wherever possible.*