Poem
Hu Xudong
LIFE-LONG UNDERCOVER
What planet are you from, stranger?You have an outer space violin in your left ear
that plays a string of quiet clouds
in the noisy subway.
I suspected it, and others, too, suspected it
and, true: you have a strange device on your retina
that can always catch the small ads falling from the sky
through the windy air down to the streets.
Even the sleeping fats in your body are suspiciously
beautiful. I worry that one day you will
wing your way back to that other planet with the potato chips
that are left in your hands decorating your big wings.
And I will be left here alone trying to decipher
your space diary written in rain and snow.
I worry. I always worry. But fortunately I’ve snapped a wavelength
of your planet by pulling out a poetic antenna
in the back of my head
while you are cooking in the kitchen. You are cooking again
this morning. A little voice of alien vowels issues an order
to the woodpecker
five meters from our balcony: Let her stay there life-long
undercover
at his side, don’t try to wake her up.
(2009. Beijing)
© Translation: 2013, Ming Di & Katie Farris
From: New Cathay: Contemporary Chinese Poetry
Publisher: Tupelo Press, North Adams, MA, 2013
From: New Cathay: Contemporary Chinese Poetry
Publisher: Tupelo Press, North Adams, MA, 2013
LEVENSLANG UNDERCOVER
niet alleen ik vraag me afof je een mysterieus wezen van een andere planeet bent
de buitenaardse viool in jouw linkeroor
kan in een lawaaierige metro
een reeks stille galactische nevels spelen
de vreemde technologie op jouw netvlies
kan op straat altijd een paar kleine posters
ontdekken die door de dampkring zijn gevallen
zelfs de diep slapende vetten in jouw lichaam
zijn zo mooi dat ze extreem verdacht zijn
ze zijn de vleugels verborgen onder je huid
ik ben altijd bang dat je op een dag naar je vreemde planeet
zult terugvliegen, slaand met je grote vleugels versierd met chips,
en mij hier zult achterlaten om in mijn eentje jouw universumdagboek,
geschreven in een regeldruppel, in een sneeuwvlok, te decoderen
precies vanochtend terwijl jij in de keuken het eten klaarmaakt
trek ik stiekem de gedichtantenne op mijn achterhoofd uit
en vang een elektrische golf op van jouw planeet
een heel lieve stem van een andere dimensie
geeft een bevel aan de specht die vijf meter van ons balkon
op de honingboom zit:
laat haar levenslang undercover zijn naast hem
probeer haar in geen geval te wekken
Beijing, 16 november 2009
© Vertaling: 2014, Silvia Marijnissen
终身卧底
不止我一个人怀疑你是来自另一个星球的神秘生物
你的左耳里有一把外太空的小提琴
能够在嘈杂的地铁里
演奏出一团安静的星云
你的视网膜上有奇怪的科技
总能在大街上发现一两张
穿过大气层陨落下来的小广告
甚至连你身上那些沉睡的脂肪
都美得极其可疑
它们是你藏在皮肤下的翅膀
我总担心有一天你会
挥动着缀满薯片的大翅膀飞回外星
留下我孤独地破译
你写在一滴雨、一片雪里的宇宙日记
好在今天早上你在厨房做饭的时候
我偷偷地拉开了后脑勺的诗歌天线
截获了一段你那个星球的电波
一个很有爱的异次元声音
正向我们家阳台五米远处
一颗老槐树上的啄木鸟下达指令:
让她在他身边作终身卧底
千万不要试图把她唤醒
2009/11/16 北京
© 2013, Hu Xudong
From: 片片诗 (Piece of poetry)
Publisher: Xiu Wei Press, Taipei
From: 片片诗 (Piece of poetry)
Publisher: Xiu Wei Press, Taipei
Poems
Poems of Hu Xudong
Close
LIFE-LONG UNDERCOVER
What planet are you from, stranger?You have an outer space violin in your left ear
that plays a string of quiet clouds
in the noisy subway.
I suspected it, and others, too, suspected it
and, true: you have a strange device on your retina
that can always catch the small ads falling from the sky
through the windy air down to the streets.
Even the sleeping fats in your body are suspiciously
beautiful. I worry that one day you will
wing your way back to that other planet with the potato chips
that are left in your hands decorating your big wings.
And I will be left here alone trying to decipher
your space diary written in rain and snow.
I worry. I always worry. But fortunately I’ve snapped a wavelength
of your planet by pulling out a poetic antenna
in the back of my head
while you are cooking in the kitchen. You are cooking again
this morning. A little voice of alien vowels issues an order
to the woodpecker
five meters from our balcony: Let her stay there life-long
undercover
at his side, don’t try to wake her up.
(2009. Beijing)
© 2013, Ming Di & Katie Farris
From: New Cathay: Contemporary Chinese Poetry
Publisher: 2013, Tupelo Press, North Adams, MA
From: New Cathay: Contemporary Chinese Poetry
Publisher: 2013, Tupelo Press, North Adams, MA
LIFE-LONG UNDERCOVER
What planet are you from, stranger?You have an outer space violin in your left ear
that plays a string of quiet clouds
in the noisy subway.
I suspected it, and others, too, suspected it
and, true: you have a strange device on your retina
that can always catch the small ads falling from the sky
through the windy air down to the streets.
Even the sleeping fats in your body are suspiciously
beautiful. I worry that one day you will
wing your way back to that other planet with the potato chips
that are left in your hands decorating your big wings.
And I will be left here alone trying to decipher
your space diary written in rain and snow.
I worry. I always worry. But fortunately I’ve snapped a wavelength
of your planet by pulling out a poetic antenna
in the back of my head
while you are cooking in the kitchen. You are cooking again
this morning. A little voice of alien vowels issues an order
to the woodpecker
five meters from our balcony: Let her stay there life-long
undercover
at his side, don’t try to wake her up.
(2009. Beijing)
© 2013, Ming Di & Katie Farris
From: New Cathay: Contemporary Chinese Poetry
Publisher: 2013, Tupelo Press, North Adams, MA
From: New Cathay: Contemporary Chinese Poetry
Publisher: 2013, Tupelo Press, North Adams, MA
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