Poem
Zhai Yongming
The Death of Diana
I’ve written several lines not quite to the pointon the princess
time is a second-rate it is only in yesterdays
the princess can die and be crushed
by matter packed into one instant
her death obliterates her obscure enemy
—youth, everything
begins from this moment, just as a butterfly
is more beautiful pinned and mounted
the princess is dead a vulgar dream
tails the blood component of youth
with nowhere to go vulgar lovers will
wonder at her living morbid fear of dirt
and be scared witless by her dying
the princess’ death calls to my mind
those close-set typefaces
the manufacturers and an innate quality of beauty
took direct aim at a life they (the typefaces)
fell with a crash and buried
an entire evening
should I mourn for her? of course
and at the same time I think that it could
get to the point where I cannot make my own ends meet
so I smile and say good-bye to
a case of cancer and
a car crash
© Translation: 2004, Simon Patton
THE DEATH OF DIANA
© 2004, Zhai Yongming
Poems
Poems of Zhai Yongming
Close
The Death of Diana
I’ve written several lines not quite to the pointon the princess
time is a second-rate it is only in yesterdays
the princess can die and be crushed
by matter packed into one instant
her death obliterates her obscure enemy
—youth, everything
begins from this moment, just as a butterfly
is more beautiful pinned and mounted
the princess is dead a vulgar dream
tails the blood component of youth
with nowhere to go vulgar lovers will
wonder at her living morbid fear of dirt
and be scared witless by her dying
the princess’ death calls to my mind
those close-set typefaces
the manufacturers and an innate quality of beauty
took direct aim at a life they (the typefaces)
fell with a crash and buried
an entire evening
should I mourn for her? of course
and at the same time I think that it could
get to the point where I cannot make my own ends meet
so I smile and say good-bye to
a case of cancer and
a car crash
© 2004, Simon Patton
The Death of Diana
I’ve written several lines not quite to the pointon the princess
time is a second-rate it is only in yesterdays
the princess can die and be crushed
by matter packed into one instant
her death obliterates her obscure enemy
—youth, everything
begins from this moment, just as a butterfly
is more beautiful pinned and mounted
the princess is dead a vulgar dream
tails the blood component of youth
with nowhere to go vulgar lovers will
wonder at her living morbid fear of dirt
and be scared witless by her dying
the princess’ death calls to my mind
those close-set typefaces
the manufacturers and an innate quality of beauty
took direct aim at a life they (the typefaces)
fell with a crash and buried
an entire evening
should I mourn for her? of course
and at the same time I think that it could
get to the point where I cannot make my own ends meet
so I smile and say good-bye to
a case of cancer and
a car crash
© 2004, Simon Patton
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