Poem
Zheng Xiaoqiong
A child migrant worker from Cold Mountain
Life is baffling our epoch is becomingBlind A fourteen-year-old girl has to work with us
On the assembly line that carries the fatigue of our era
Sometimes she wishes she had returned to the countryside in Sichuan
To cut firewood and grass to gather wild berries and flowers
Her young delicate gaze reveals desolation I don’t know
What words can describe her except
Child laborer or sighs as thin as paper
Her gaze can always crush a soft heart
Why do machines shatter any compassion on the production line
Her lagging behind half a beat often makes
The group leader curse Her tears do not fall
They brim her eyes “I’m a grown-up
I won’t cry” she solemnly declares
How bewildering her childhood home has become
Reminiscence She speaks of the mountains, their slopes
The blue lake the snakes and oxen
Perhaps life means finding a path out of confusion
Back to life itself Sometimes her dark face
Shows contempt for a fellow worker
As she points at another girl thinner and more delicate than herself, saying
“She may be younger than I but she has to sleep with men at night.”
© Translation: 2019, Zhou Xiaojing
Kindarbeider uit Liangshan
het leven is verbijsterend het tijdperk wordt langzaamblind een veertienjarig meisje staat met ons
aan de lopende band met daarop de vermoeidheid van deze tijd
soms wil ze niets liever dan terugkeren naar haar geboortestreek in Sichuan
hout hakken gras snijden wild fruit en wilde bloemen plukken
uit haar magere blik spreekt verlorenheid ik weet niet
hoe ik dat zou kunnen uitdrukken behalve:
kinderarbeid of zuchten zo dun als papier
haar blik kan elke lieve ziel breken
waarom wordt het weinige beetje medelijden
door de machines van de lopende band kapot gewalst?
haar net iets tragere bewegingstempo wekt vaak
het gevloek van de voorman haar tranen vallen niet
ze vullen haar ogen “ik ben groot
mag niet huilen” zegt ze bloedserieus
zo verbijsterend van haar kindertijd resteren alleen nog
herinneringen ze heeft het over dingen uit de bergen, zoals hellingen
blauwe meren slangen koeien
misschien is het leven het vinden van een weg te midden van verbijstering
om terug te keren naar het leven zelf soms toont haar donkere gezicht
een blik van minachting voor een ploegmaatje
dan wijst ze naar een ander meisje, zwakker dan zijzelf, en zegt:
“zij is jonger dan ik maar zij moet ’s nachts met mannen slapen”
© Vertaling: 2019, Silvia Marijnissen
凉山童工
生活只会茫然 时代逐渐成为盲人 十四岁小女孩要跟我们
在流水线上领引时代带来的疲惫
有时 她更想让自己返回四川乡下
砍柴 割草 摘野果子与野花
她瘦小的眼神浮出荒凉 我不知道
该用怎样的句子来表达 只知道
童工 或者像薄纸样的叹息
她的眼神总能将柔软的心击碎
为什么仅有的点点同情
也被流水线的机器辗碎
她慢半拍的动作常常换来
组长的咒骂 她的泪没有流下
在眼眶里转动 “我是大人了
不能流泪” 她一本正经地说
多么茫然啊 童年只剩下
追忆 她说起山中事物比如山坡
比如蔚蓝的海子 比如蛇 牛
也许生活就是要从茫然间找出一条路
返回到它的本身 有时她黝黑的脸
会对她的同伴露出鄙视的神色
她指着另一个比她更瘦弱的女孩说
“她比我还小 夜里要陪男人睡觉”
© 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
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A child migrant worker from Cold Mountain
Life is baffling our epoch is becomingBlind A fourteen-year-old girl has to work with us
On the assembly line that carries the fatigue of our era
Sometimes she wishes she had returned to the countryside in Sichuan
To cut firewood and grass to gather wild berries and flowers
Her young delicate gaze reveals desolation I don’t know
What words can describe her except
Child laborer or sighs as thin as paper
Her gaze can always crush a soft heart
Why do machines shatter any compassion on the production line
Her lagging behind half a beat often makes
The group leader curse Her tears do not fall
They brim her eyes “I’m a grown-up
I won’t cry” she solemnly declares
How bewildering her childhood home has become
Reminiscence She speaks of the mountains, their slopes
The blue lake the snakes and oxen
Perhaps life means finding a path out of confusion
Back to life itself Sometimes her dark face
Shows contempt for a fellow worker
As she points at another girl thinner and more delicate than herself, saying
“She may be younger than I but she has to sleep with men at night.”
© 2019, Zhou Xiaojing
From: Female Migrant Workers: An Archive
From: Female Migrant Workers: An Archive
A child migrant worker from Cold Mountain
Life is baffling our epoch is becomingBlind A fourteen-year-old girl has to work with us
On the assembly line that carries the fatigue of our era
Sometimes she wishes she had returned to the countryside in Sichuan
To cut firewood and grass to gather wild berries and flowers
Her young delicate gaze reveals desolation I don’t know
What words can describe her except
Child laborer or sighs as thin as paper
Her gaze can always crush a soft heart
Why do machines shatter any compassion on the production line
Her lagging behind half a beat often makes
The group leader curse Her tears do not fall
They brim her eyes “I’m a grown-up
I won’t cry” she solemnly declares
How bewildering her childhood home has become
Reminiscence She speaks of the mountains, their slopes
The blue lake the snakes and oxen
Perhaps life means finding a path out of confusion
Back to life itself Sometimes her dark face
Shows contempt for a fellow worker
As she points at another girl thinner and more delicate than herself, saying
“She may be younger than I but she has to sleep with men at night.”
© 2019, Zhou Xiaojing
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