Poem
Zheng Xiaoqiong
Grass roots
Twilight spreads, a layer of ash-gray iron melts JulyReturning to lychee woods, everything is empty and silent . . . flying bugs of July
And a drop of blood pools at the tip of a grass blade, a slanting red
When short, grass stalks drop their heads
And see a drifter’s heels
In Silver Lake Park, encountering a plume of grass with purple-blue flowers
Moonlight hears the sounds of flowers, blooming and fragrant
Pale flower of July cannot hold on to the moonlight over Silver Lake Park
By the lake at midnight I listen to a blade of grass weeping, it is a
Drifter on the road, briefly
Vanishing into the dark
A street lamp illuminates grass tips and my footprints
We share the same name, oh
—Grass roots
In the depth of green grass, under the lychee trees
My friends and family
In this homeless strange land, I grow like a blade of grass
At the twilight when the universe falls silent, a night wind blows
But cannot blow down our heads
© Translation: 2011, Jonathan Stalling
草
草
暮色，扩散了，一层灰色的铁融化了七月回到荔枝林，一片虚静……七月的飞虫
和草尖上的一滴血，侧着的红
草浅了，一棵草低下头
看见一个漫游者的脚后跟
银湖公园，遇见一株草开着朵朵紫蓝的花
月光听到它花开的声音与清香
淡淡花开的七月，留不住银湖公园湖中月光
我在深夜的湖边倾听一棵草的哭泣，它是一个
漫游者在路上经过，短暂的
消逝在暗处
一盏路灯点亮草尖和我的脚印
我们有着相同的姓名啊
——草根
青草深处，荔枝树下
我的朋友与亲人呵
在这居无定所的异乡，我跟一棵草样生长
在万物安详的暮色里，晚风吹来
吹不低下我们的头
Poems
Poems of Zheng Xiaoqiong
Close
Grass roots
Twilight spreads, a layer of ash-gray iron melts JulyReturning to lychee woods, everything is empty and silent . . . flying bugs of July
And a drop of blood pools at the tip of a grass blade, a slanting red
When short, grass stalks drop their heads
And see a drifter’s heels
In Silver Lake Park, encountering a plume of grass with purple-blue flowers
Moonlight hears the sounds of flowers, blooming and fragrant
Pale flower of July cannot hold on to the moonlight over Silver Lake Park
By the lake at midnight I listen to a blade of grass weeping, it is a
Drifter on the road, briefly
Vanishing into the dark
A street lamp illuminates grass tips and my footprints
We share the same name, oh
—Grass roots
In the depth of green grass, under the lychee trees
My friends and family
In this homeless strange land, I grow like a blade of grass
At the twilight when the universe falls silent, a night wind blows
But cannot blow down our heads
© 2011, Jonathan Stalling
Grass roots
Twilight spreads, a layer of ash-gray iron melts JulyReturning to lychee woods, everything is empty and silent . . . flying bugs of July
And a drop of blood pools at the tip of a grass blade, a slanting red
When short, grass stalks drop their heads
And see a drifter’s heels
In Silver Lake Park, encountering a plume of grass with purple-blue flowers
Moonlight hears the sounds of flowers, blooming and fragrant
Pale flower of July cannot hold on to the moonlight over Silver Lake Park
By the lake at midnight I listen to a blade of grass weeping, it is a
Drifter on the road, briefly
Vanishing into the dark
A street lamp illuminates grass tips and my footprints
We share the same name, oh
—Grass roots
In the depth of green grass, under the lychee trees
My friends and family
In this homeless strange land, I grow like a blade of grass
At the twilight when the universe falls silent, a night wind blows
But cannot blow down our heads
© 2011, Jonathan Stalling
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