Poem
Zheng Xiaoqiong
Hu zhimin
All these years I have been immersed in an immense erafeeling weak and frail allowing this life of vitality to be
shrouded by gloomy negations and ignorance
She died from the wounds of the times
with her three brothers and parents
who quarreled over her compensation Her corpse no one cares
no one mourns no one weeps for
only the icy cold figure of her reparation keeps her company
Hu Zhimin: twenty-three died of alcohol poisoning
I still have vivid memories of her
my co-worker who became a prostitute
at a hotel her innocent smiles loud voice
worldly experience She told me she had seen
too many so-called truths of life standing
on the threshold of reality such as desires and flesh
She was never ashamed of talking about her occupation
or her plans for life Many young women
from her home village entered this ancient profession
the newly married or sisters or aunts and sister-in-laws
leave together for Nanjing or Guangdong…
At hair salons in dim rooms she was beautiful
At hotels high-end places her face showed
happiness… We seldom saw each other we had the
same background yet belonged to two different
worlds In this city in this moment
two people met by chance in life then parted
each going her own way in a hurry
not knowing what fate would bring “She is dead!”
said a countryman of hers to me and described
the scene of her death saying how much money she had sent home
how wonderful her family’s newly-built house how her brothers used
the money she’d earned with her flesh bought a house and set up shop
in a small town
saying after her death her brothers didn’t even bring
her ashes home to be buried at their ancestral tomb
because she sold her flesh filth it would be bad for the family feng shui
© Translation: 2019, Zhou Xiaojing
Hu zhimin
de laatste jaren ben ik ondergedompeld in een enorm tijdperkvoel me zwak en krachteloos een bruisend leven
bedekt onder troosteloze ontkenning en onwetendheid
haar dood is een wond van deze tijd
net als haar drie broers en ouders die ruziën om
de schadevergoeding om haar stoffelijk overschot maalt niemand
treurt niemand huilt niemand
haar enige gezelschap is het ijskoude getal van de schadevergoeding
Hu Zhimin: drieëntwintig jaar dood door alcoholvergiftiging
ik koester nog levendige herinneringen aan haar
ooit een collega later vervallen tot hotel-
prostituee haar oprechte lach haar harde stem
haar wereldlijke ervaring teveel zogenaamde levenswaarheden
had ze gezien zo zei ze me ze bevond zich
op de drempel van de realiteit zoals de lusten en het lijf
ze sprak zonder enige schaamte over haar beroep
en haar plannen voor het leven in haar geboortestreek
waren veel jonge meisjes die dit oude beroep beoefenden
pas getrouwden zussen tantes of schoonzussen
in groepjes gaan ze naar Nanjing naar Guangdong . . .
in kapsalons donkere kamers ze was knap
in hotels toplocaties geluk stond
op haar gezicht . . . we zagen elkaar weinig hadden
eenzelfde achtergrond maar leefden toch in
verschillende werelden deze stad deze tijd
had twee mensen door het toeval bijeengebracht en gescheiden
elk ging haastig haar eigen weg
het lot is niet te keren “ze is dood!”
hoorde ik van een streekgenoot van haar en hij vertelde me
over haar dood hoeveel geld ze naar huis had gestuurd
hoe mooi het huis was dat haar familie had gebouwd hoe haar broers met het geld
dat zij met haar lijf had verdiend een huis in het dorp hadden gekocht een winkel geopend
hoe haar broers na haar dood niet eens haar as
terug naar huis hadden gebracht ze mocht niet in het voorouderlijke graf worden bijgezet
ze verkocht haar lichaam smerig dat zou de feng shui van de familie schaden
© Vertaling: 2019, Silvia Marijnissen
郑小琼的诗
胡志敏这些年我沉浸于庞大的时代
感到虚弱而无力 让鲜活的生命
蒙上灰茫茫的否定与无知
她的死亡带着时代的创伤
连同三个为赔偿金争执的
兄弟与父母 无人在意的尸体
没有人悲伤 也没有人哭泣
剩下赔偿金冰凉的数字陪伴
胡志敏:二十三岁 死于醉酒
我对她还有如此清晰的记忆
曾经的同事 后来沦为酒店的
娼妓 单纯的微笑 高声谈论
阅世的经历 她跟我谈论她见到
太多的所谓人生的真相 站在
现实的门槛上 比如欲望与肉体
她从不羞涩地谈论她的职业
与人生规划 她老家有很多
年轻女性从事这项古老职业
比如新婚夫妻 或者姐妹 姑嫂
结伴而行 去南京 下广东……
在发廊 阴暗的房屋 她生得漂亮
在酒店 高档的地方 她脸上的
高兴……我们很少见面 我们拥有
同一个身份背景 终属于两个
世界的人 这个城市 这个时刻
两个因生活偶然相遇的人相聚又分开
各自朝着自己的方向赶路
命运是否改变 “她死亡了!”
她的男同乡告诉我 然后跟我说
她死亡的场景 说她寄了多少钱回家
说她家的房子修得多好 她兄弟用她
肉体赚回来的钱 在小镇上买房开铺面
说她死了后 哥哥与弟弟连她的骨灰
也没带回家 不能埋在祖坟上
她是卖肉的 脏 会坏了家里的风水
© 2012, Zheng Xiaoqiong
From: Female Migrant Workers: An Archive
Publisher: Huacheng chuban she, Beijing
From: Female Migrant Workers: An Archive
Publisher: Huacheng chuban she, Beijing
Poems
Poems of Zheng Xiaoqiong
Close
Hu zhimin
All these years I have been immersed in an immense erafeeling weak and frail allowing this life of vitality to be
shrouded by gloomy negations and ignorance
She died from the wounds of the times
with her three brothers and parents
who quarreled over her compensation Her corpse no one cares
no one mourns no one weeps for
only the icy cold figure of her reparation keeps her company
Hu Zhimin: twenty-three died of alcohol poisoning
I still have vivid memories of her
my co-worker who became a prostitute
at a hotel her innocent smiles loud voice
worldly experience She told me she had seen
too many so-called truths of life standing
on the threshold of reality such as desires and flesh
She was never ashamed of talking about her occupation
or her plans for life Many young women
from her home village entered this ancient profession
the newly married or sisters or aunts and sister-in-laws
leave together for Nanjing or Guangdong…
At hair salons in dim rooms she was beautiful
At hotels high-end places her face showed
happiness… We seldom saw each other we had the
same background yet belonged to two different
worlds In this city in this moment
two people met by chance in life then parted
each going her own way in a hurry
not knowing what fate would bring “She is dead!”
said a countryman of hers to me and described
the scene of her death saying how much money she had sent home
how wonderful her family’s newly-built house how her brothers used
the money she’d earned with her flesh bought a house and set up shop
in a small town
saying after her death her brothers didn’t even bring
her ashes home to be buried at their ancestral tomb
because she sold her flesh filth it would be bad for the family feng shui
© 2019, Zhou Xiaojing
From: Female Migrant Workers: An Archive
From: Female Migrant Workers: An Archive
Hu zhimin
All these years I have been immersed in an immense erafeeling weak and frail allowing this life of vitality to be
shrouded by gloomy negations and ignorance
She died from the wounds of the times
with her three brothers and parents
who quarreled over her compensation Her corpse no one cares
no one mourns no one weeps for
only the icy cold figure of her reparation keeps her company
Hu Zhimin: twenty-three died of alcohol poisoning
I still have vivid memories of her
my co-worker who became a prostitute
at a hotel her innocent smiles loud voice
worldly experience She told me she had seen
too many so-called truths of life standing
on the threshold of reality such as desires and flesh
She was never ashamed of talking about her occupation
or her plans for life Many young women
from her home village entered this ancient profession
the newly married or sisters or aunts and sister-in-laws
leave together for Nanjing or Guangdong…
At hair salons in dim rooms she was beautiful
At hotels high-end places her face showed
happiness… We seldom saw each other we had the
same background yet belonged to two different
worlds In this city in this moment
two people met by chance in life then parted
each going her own way in a hurry
not knowing what fate would bring “She is dead!”
said a countryman of hers to me and described
the scene of her death saying how much money she had sent home
how wonderful her family’s newly-built house how her brothers used
the money she’d earned with her flesh bought a house and set up shop
in a small town
saying after her death her brothers didn’t even bring
her ashes home to be buried at their ancestral tomb
because she sold her flesh filth it would be bad for the family feng shui
© 2019, Zhou Xiaojing
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