Poem
Ming Di
Open renshi 2: Oceans
1In Qinghai, atomic bombs are flowers intended to flourish,
a tsunami a cluster of corollas crushed. Even wind is a flowering
bud, chasing clouds of white fugitives.
(Ming Di)
2
The sea, a blossom, flies out from the chest.
Under the blue sky is the moist aroma of musical notes
that circle low. A reincarnation?
Their meteor-like bones give out salt
making the stars and moonlight glow.
(Ming Yu)
3
It’s a legendary soul resurrected, a homeland in disguise.
When you stand by the beach, you become a grain of sand.
When you roam, you become a singing shell.
(Ouyang Guanxue)
4
With its intruding belly the bay ticks its legs into the sky…
By morning it kicks out the sun, by night the moon
while it stays inside the stomach, dreaming of fireworks.
It laughs and cries, waking us all.
(Bei Du)
5
The precision tool is controlled by a big god.
We sit by the huge blue softly-laced garden,
tasting the gulf, chuckled by the white apple sake.
Hollow bamboos blow the Buddhist country and its dressed-up shadows.
The naval fingers fuel us in the air
with blue liquid freedom.
(Zhang Jie)
6
In Qingdao or Putuo Mountains, the ocean is not blue as imagined
but green or yellow of the reality.
Sometimes it’s a book of rebels from a Chinese temple.
In Taiwan, the morning ocean with clean clouds gathers huge blue crystals.
In Tianjin, the night ocean is but a jungle with monsters,
a dinosaur roaring across China.
(Ouyang Guanxue)
7
I like to wash dishes and wash off the stains.
But the plates and bowls resist the water and soap.
Oh the tumbling, the bubbling, the oceanic china.
(Ming Di)
8
Let the blue fish fly off. With the fluttering flags.
Each storm shares the surname with us.
The little migrant fists, small heads ready to make trouble.
We have the power inside our mouths to make changes.
We soar and descend as if we’ve renewed ourselves.
(Ming Yu)
9
When we drink atop the hill, we feel like sitting in an aquarium,
embraced by stars. The flags, the submarine palaces, read out loud
the sacred decree of the sky.
Asian cranes rise. But in seeking truth, Asia always
seems to be playing a closed chess like a clam.
(Zhang Jie)
10
The salty water in the blue glass misses
the monsoon kisses.
Inside the glass are lost wars and withered daffodils.
But why is the coast still so bright?
(Bei Du)
11
I’ve been to the South Middle Sea, Er Sea, and then a real sea.
I rush over to them in doggy style,
my eyes full of tears when hit by a big wave.
Someone has compared the sea to a gentle horseback.
But I know under the smooth skin runs turbulent blood.
(And fish shuttle between the sunken battleships, bones and fine porcelains.)
(Rain Man)
12
A young, good-for-nothing dude says seriously, ‘I’m handsome’.
A big blue iron of sea is flattening a big gray brick.
Small white dogs of clouds run, and turn into little arrogant bulls.
Can I drink a cup of coffee and chat with the demons for a while?
Can’t I?
(Ouyang Guanxue)
13
A devil rock rocks with its immobility.
Greenish blue, bluish gray, grayish brown, brownish dark…
Mysterious. Mysterious?
A girl puts on tea-tinted glasses. Everything changes
in its unchanging fashions.
But this fabulous pain, so faking red, where does it come from?
(Ming Di)
14
A mirage emerges. A gasp of cry muffles the reef and shore.
Light refracts. A virtual image seems to move a hundred miles.
But it’s real. The optical phenomenon.
Hurry up
with your fantasy: pour a bucket of soda into this big pond,
and theoretically change its molecular formula.
(Random 13)
15
It suddenly appears behind you like a blind man,
and then travels to the front of the water, polished daily,
measuring freedom,
then attacking you in the invisible hell.
(Zhang Jie)
16
A scented whale, in the outfit of a reef, swims over
from the upstream. The sea-sleeves cover the face of ‘Yokosuka’.
A sorcerer wheels the Pacific cube with a stick.
And the fish that try to walk square steps walk into our dreams.
(Bei Du)
17
‘Like lovers who have never met whisper to each other’,
the sky that swirls in the center of the pupils woos the ocean
to come closer. So deep and profound.
This rare abyss, as you say, is home of pain.
When the blue water constantly waves in and washes the hand of baptism
and when you are baptized by happiness, a flying fin appears in daylight.
(Ming Yu)
18
When you stand in the sea, you are colorless
and transparent.
An island, a lighthouse, strolls on its own plate, calm.
A shark controls its own image and fights with the other self
outside the mirror.
King of storms wants a hamburger. He cuts the wild waves. A flying fish in between.
(Ouyang Guanxue)
19
It’s quiet. This night of sandwiches.
World War on the left. Red Chamber on the right.
A turn over. A choke on the ziberrish gibberish sand.
(Ming Di)
20
Islands of red sand. Tiles.
Roofing the marine world.
An eagle hops from one roof to another.
Light. Dark. Dark. Light. Shades of history shaded.
Whose ego flies up and down, so fearless?
(PoetryEastWest)
23 – 31 August 2015
© Translation: 2015, Ming Di
开放式中国连诗 2：《海》
开放式中国连诗 2：《海》
1在青海，原子弹是一朵蓄意盛开的花
而远处，海啸的浪花，看上去像纸花
更远处，连风也是花，追赶潜逃的云
(明迪）
2
海如每个人胸口的花朵飞出
蓝空下，低鸣的五线谱采摘湿润的芳香
哼歌不是一个轮回么？流动的骨头
发出咸味，擦亮了心间的星辰与月光
(明雨）
3
人鱼公主复活大海是故乡。
站在海边，你就会变成一个沙粒，或漫游，
唱歌的贝壳。
海浪，被礁石的教室阻拦，激起海鬼的浪花，
飞溅在暮色身边，海，失去了颜色。魅物，
吞噬了我们的目光，就是那很恐惧的荒凉。
(欧阳关雪）
4
海，腆着肚子，把脚伸入天上……
哦，早晨把太阳踹出，夜里把月亮蹬醒，
而自己，却在肚里，不停做火染花飘的梦，
一会儿笑了，一会儿嚎啕，把“大家”都震起，
好像同它一起欢乐、哭泣……
那嵌着花瓣的边窗，在绣出淡蓝的雪夜。
(北渡）
5
海的精密机床，由一位大神控制。
我们坐在巨大，蓝色软收边花园边，
品尝，海，白苹果花，酿出的清酒奇袭。
空竹，吹动佛国，长裙影子的无边演员。
海的手指，将蓝色燃料向空中加油，
向我们体内，灌注液体的蓝色自由。
(张杰）
6
在青岛或普陀山，海，并非想像的蓝，而是现实的绿或黄。
海，有时是中国庙堂的反叛书册，掀开我们觉察的心。
在台湾，晨海，纯净云朵，会聚拢一颗硕大蓝水晶的美；
在天津，夜海，却是巨兽吼叫的原始丛林，像恐龙震撼着经过中国。
(欧阳关雪）
7
我喜欢洗碗，喜欢洗净那些污迹
而碗盘在水中抗拒，抵制清洁剂
那些泡沫，那些翻滚，那些china海
(明迪）
8
让眼底那些蓝鳞的鱼飞翔吧，和猎猎的旗帜们一道
每一场风暴都和我们共用一个姓氏
那流浪的拳头们，像蠢蠢欲动的小头颅
在嘴中我们获得了抗拒的权力
在滑翔中我们仿佛又变得崭新
(明雨）
9
我们在山顶饮酒时，如同坐在怀抱群星的海中。
海上的旗，海上的空中宫殿，宣读圣谕的天空，
从酒波变形中，看到自己的样子。
似乎升起，飞渡真理的亚洲鹤群。似乎亚洲，始终下着，蚌的封闭棋局。
而白菖蒲花，白花花一片，开在山下沼泽里，是你朦胧看到的世外精灵……
(张杰）
10
海水，坐在瓷青酒杯中，怀念，季风的吻，
里面没有杯盘碎裂，溢出的惊心。
海水，比酒水更甘甜。
角杯里，有迷失的战争，有凋零的水仙花。
海，为何如此灿烂？恒星般深远？
海的温床，育养出万千生灵。
(北渡）
11
我到过中南海，洱海，后来到过真正的大海
我急急忙忙扑过去狗刨
一个大浪打过来让我泪流满面
有人曾把大海比作温顺的马背
但我知道在光滑的皮肤下
流淌着汹涌的鲜血。
（鱼群在沉没的战舰、尸骨和精美的瓷器之间穿梭）
(雨人）
12
不靠谱的小青年，一本正经对对方说，“我很帅”。
海的蓝色大熨斗，在熨平一块灰色大砖头。
云的白色小狗狗，飞奔成几个骄傲的小牛牛。
陆上，海上的热气流，充盈了“倜傥”气球。
喝杯咖啡，静静与魔鬼们对会儿话，有没有可能？
(欧阳关雪）
13
鬼礁石，以不动牵制动
海蓝，灰，浅咖啡，深棕，黑......
神秘。神秘？
小女戴上茶镜，万物大变于不变中
那么这红色的痛，来自哪里？
(明迪）
14
蜃景突现，一声惊呼窒息了礁石和沙滩
虚像由光线折射成形，动辄移位百里
但光学现象是真实的，举起相机，赶快拍照吧
稍后再继续幻想往海里倒一桶苏打水，理论上改变
海水的分子结构
(十三不靠）
15
海，突然出现在你背后，盲人一样。
行进的蓝星，在测量一个自由度。
海的正面，每天被抛光，光线四射。
而看不见的地狱，扑到你身上。
(张杰）
16
抹香鲸，穿着暗礁的衣裳，从海上游来。
相对坐时，海的袖子，遮住“横须贺”的脸膛。
巫师，拿起摇杆，转动太平洋的魔方。
正步走的海鱼，被我们在睡梦中，咀嚼。
(北渡）
17
“就像从未见过的一对喁喁窃语的情侣”，天空——
眼睛中心地带的旋转，那么深刻地使海走近海
这不可多得的深渊，你说这是痛苦的居所，
当海浪不断从生活里涌现。被幸福之手洗礼，
白昼之鳞一再发出照耀
(明雨）
18
站在海水里，你就会无色，透明。
岛，灯塔，在自己的海中地盘，淡定漫步。
鲨鱼，雄赳赳控制镜中影像，与镜外的自己对战。
风暴王，想吃汉堡，就会把自由狂野的海浪切开，夹着飞鱼。
(欧阳关雪）
19
三明治夜晚，格外安静
左边二战，右边红楼梦
一个翻身呛了一口人造沙
(明迪）
20
红沙岛屿，瓦片一样排开
疏密有致，海上屋顶
一只苍鹰从一个屋脊飞到另一个屋脊
暗，亮，历史深浅不一
谁这样飞起落下飞起，这样无忌？
(诗东西）
23 – 31 August 2015
© 2015, Ming Di, et al.
Poems
Poems of Ming Di
Close
Open renshi 2: Oceans
1In Qinghai, atomic bombs are flowers intended to flourish,
a tsunami a cluster of corollas crushed. Even wind is a flowering
bud, chasing clouds of white fugitives.
(Ming Di)
2
The sea, a blossom, flies out from the chest.
Under the blue sky is the moist aroma of musical notes
that circle low. A reincarnation?
Their meteor-like bones give out salt
making the stars and moonlight glow.
(Ming Yu)
3
It’s a legendary soul resurrected, a homeland in disguise.
When you stand by the beach, you become a grain of sand.
When you roam, you become a singing shell.
(Ouyang Guanxue)
4
With its intruding belly the bay ticks its legs into the sky…
By morning it kicks out the sun, by night the moon
while it stays inside the stomach, dreaming of fireworks.
It laughs and cries, waking us all.
(Bei Du)
5
The precision tool is controlled by a big god.
We sit by the huge blue softly-laced garden,
tasting the gulf, chuckled by the white apple sake.
Hollow bamboos blow the Buddhist country and its dressed-up shadows.
The naval fingers fuel us in the air
with blue liquid freedom.
(Zhang Jie)
6
In Qingdao or Putuo Mountains, the ocean is not blue as imagined
but green or yellow of the reality.
Sometimes it’s a book of rebels from a Chinese temple.
In Taiwan, the morning ocean with clean clouds gathers huge blue crystals.
In Tianjin, the night ocean is but a jungle with monsters,
a dinosaur roaring across China.
(Ouyang Guanxue)
7
I like to wash dishes and wash off the stains.
But the plates and bowls resist the water and soap.
Oh the tumbling, the bubbling, the oceanic china.
(Ming Di)
8
Let the blue fish fly off. With the fluttering flags.
Each storm shares the surname with us.
The little migrant fists, small heads ready to make trouble.
We have the power inside our mouths to make changes.
We soar and descend as if we’ve renewed ourselves.
(Ming Yu)
9
When we drink atop the hill, we feel like sitting in an aquarium,
embraced by stars. The flags, the submarine palaces, read out loud
the sacred decree of the sky.
Asian cranes rise. But in seeking truth, Asia always
seems to be playing a closed chess like a clam.
(Zhang Jie)
10
The salty water in the blue glass misses
the monsoon kisses.
Inside the glass are lost wars and withered daffodils.
But why is the coast still so bright?
(Bei Du)
11
I’ve been to the South Middle Sea, Er Sea, and then a real sea.
I rush over to them in doggy style,
my eyes full of tears when hit by a big wave.
Someone has compared the sea to a gentle horseback.
But I know under the smooth skin runs turbulent blood.
(And fish shuttle between the sunken battleships, bones and fine porcelains.)
(Rain Man)
12
A young, good-for-nothing dude says seriously, ‘I’m handsome’.
A big blue iron of sea is flattening a big gray brick.
Small white dogs of clouds run, and turn into little arrogant bulls.
Can I drink a cup of coffee and chat with the demons for a while?
Can’t I?
(Ouyang Guanxue)
13
A devil rock rocks with its immobility.
Greenish blue, bluish gray, grayish brown, brownish dark…
Mysterious. Mysterious?
A girl puts on tea-tinted glasses. Everything changes
in its unchanging fashions.
But this fabulous pain, so faking red, where does it come from?
(Ming Di)
14
A mirage emerges. A gasp of cry muffles the reef and shore.
Light refracts. A virtual image seems to move a hundred miles.
But it’s real. The optical phenomenon.
Hurry up
with your fantasy: pour a bucket of soda into this big pond,
and theoretically change its molecular formula.
(Random 13)
15
It suddenly appears behind you like a blind man,
and then travels to the front of the water, polished daily,
measuring freedom,
then attacking you in the invisible hell.
(Zhang Jie)
16
A scented whale, in the outfit of a reef, swims over
from the upstream. The sea-sleeves cover the face of ‘Yokosuka’.
A sorcerer wheels the Pacific cube with a stick.
And the fish that try to walk square steps walk into our dreams.
(Bei Du)
17
‘Like lovers who have never met whisper to each other’,
the sky that swirls in the center of the pupils woos the ocean
to come closer. So deep and profound.
This rare abyss, as you say, is home of pain.
When the blue water constantly waves in and washes the hand of baptism
and when you are baptized by happiness, a flying fin appears in daylight.
(Ming Yu)
18
When you stand in the sea, you are colorless
and transparent.
An island, a lighthouse, strolls on its own plate, calm.
A shark controls its own image and fights with the other self
outside the mirror.
King of storms wants a hamburger. He cuts the wild waves. A flying fish in between.
(Ouyang Guanxue)
19
It’s quiet. This night of sandwiches.
World War on the left. Red Chamber on the right.
A turn over. A choke on the ziberrish gibberish sand.
(Ming Di)
20
Islands of red sand. Tiles.
Roofing the marine world.
An eagle hops from one roof to another.
Light. Dark. Dark. Light. Shades of history shaded.
Whose ego flies up and down, so fearless?
(PoetryEastWest)
23 – 31 August 2015
© 2015, Ming Di
Open renshi 2: Oceans
1In Qinghai, atomic bombs are flowers intended to flourish,
a tsunami a cluster of corollas crushed. Even wind is a flowering
bud, chasing clouds of white fugitives.
(Ming Di)
2
The sea, a blossom, flies out from the chest.
Under the blue sky is the moist aroma of musical notes
that circle low. A reincarnation?
Their meteor-like bones give out salt
making the stars and moonlight glow.
(Ming Yu)
3
It’s a legendary soul resurrected, a homeland in disguise.
When you stand by the beach, you become a grain of sand.
When you roam, you become a singing shell.
(Ouyang Guanxue)
4
With its intruding belly the bay ticks its legs into the sky…
By morning it kicks out the sun, by night the moon
while it stays inside the stomach, dreaming of fireworks.
It laughs and cries, waking us all.
(Bei Du)
5
The precision tool is controlled by a big god.
We sit by the huge blue softly-laced garden,
tasting the gulf, chuckled by the white apple sake.
Hollow bamboos blow the Buddhist country and its dressed-up shadows.
The naval fingers fuel us in the air
with blue liquid freedom.
(Zhang Jie)
6
In Qingdao or Putuo Mountains, the ocean is not blue as imagined
but green or yellow of the reality.
Sometimes it’s a book of rebels from a Chinese temple.
In Taiwan, the morning ocean with clean clouds gathers huge blue crystals.
In Tianjin, the night ocean is but a jungle with monsters,
a dinosaur roaring across China.
(Ouyang Guanxue)
7
I like to wash dishes and wash off the stains.
But the plates and bowls resist the water and soap.
Oh the tumbling, the bubbling, the oceanic china.
(Ming Di)
8
Let the blue fish fly off. With the fluttering flags.
Each storm shares the surname with us.
The little migrant fists, small heads ready to make trouble.
We have the power inside our mouths to make changes.
We soar and descend as if we’ve renewed ourselves.
(Ming Yu)
9
When we drink atop the hill, we feel like sitting in an aquarium,
embraced by stars. The flags, the submarine palaces, read out loud
the sacred decree of the sky.
Asian cranes rise. But in seeking truth, Asia always
seems to be playing a closed chess like a clam.
(Zhang Jie)
10
The salty water in the blue glass misses
the monsoon kisses.
Inside the glass are lost wars and withered daffodils.
But why is the coast still so bright?
(Bei Du)
11
I’ve been to the South Middle Sea, Er Sea, and then a real sea.
I rush over to them in doggy style,
my eyes full of tears when hit by a big wave.
Someone has compared the sea to a gentle horseback.
But I know under the smooth skin runs turbulent blood.
(And fish shuttle between the sunken battleships, bones and fine porcelains.)
(Rain Man)
12
A young, good-for-nothing dude says seriously, ‘I’m handsome’.
A big blue iron of sea is flattening a big gray brick.
Small white dogs of clouds run, and turn into little arrogant bulls.
Can I drink a cup of coffee and chat with the demons for a while?
Can’t I?
(Ouyang Guanxue)
13
A devil rock rocks with its immobility.
Greenish blue, bluish gray, grayish brown, brownish dark…
Mysterious. Mysterious?
A girl puts on tea-tinted glasses. Everything changes
in its unchanging fashions.
But this fabulous pain, so faking red, where does it come from?
(Ming Di)
14
A mirage emerges. A gasp of cry muffles the reef and shore.
Light refracts. A virtual image seems to move a hundred miles.
But it’s real. The optical phenomenon.
Hurry up
with your fantasy: pour a bucket of soda into this big pond,
and theoretically change its molecular formula.
(Random 13)
15
It suddenly appears behind you like a blind man,
and then travels to the front of the water, polished daily,
measuring freedom,
then attacking you in the invisible hell.
(Zhang Jie)
16
A scented whale, in the outfit of a reef, swims over
from the upstream. The sea-sleeves cover the face of ‘Yokosuka’.
A sorcerer wheels the Pacific cube with a stick.
And the fish that try to walk square steps walk into our dreams.
(Bei Du)
17
‘Like lovers who have never met whisper to each other’,
the sky that swirls in the center of the pupils woos the ocean
to come closer. So deep and profound.
This rare abyss, as you say, is home of pain.
When the blue water constantly waves in and washes the hand of baptism
and when you are baptized by happiness, a flying fin appears in daylight.
(Ming Yu)
18
When you stand in the sea, you are colorless
and transparent.
An island, a lighthouse, strolls on its own plate, calm.
A shark controls its own image and fights with the other self
outside the mirror.
King of storms wants a hamburger. He cuts the wild waves. A flying fish in between.
(Ouyang Guanxue)
19
It’s quiet. This night of sandwiches.
World War on the left. Red Chamber on the right.
A turn over. A choke on the ziberrish gibberish sand.
(Ming Di)
20
Islands of red sand. Tiles.
Roofing the marine world.
An eagle hops from one roof to another.
Light. Dark. Dark. Light. Shades of history shaded.
Whose ego flies up and down, so fearless?
(PoetryEastWest)
23 – 31 August 2015
© 2015, Ming Di
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