If the wind blows from above

A single umbrella wards off the cold

Wang Dakuai is a poet from Shenzhen city of China

Wang Dakuai, currently residing in Shenzhen, was born with the given name Wang Guohua. He primarily writes prose and occasionally composes poetry. Having published thirty works across various genres, he has one poetry collection to his name, titled ‘Quieter Than These Three Years.

王大块，现居深圳。本名王国华，主写散文，偶尔写诗。已出各类作品三十部，含诗集一部，名为《比这三年更安静》。

Translated by Ma Yongbo

If the Wind Blows from Above

If the wind blows from above

A single umbrella wards off the cold

The room needs naught but a lime-plastered ceiling

No longer caring what walls once were

They have faded, like the seasons, into thin air

 

The cold gradually gains weight

Falling with the rain upon the hat

The head may scarce hold up under

This sudden surge of joy

Or sudden dread

***

如果风从上往下吹

如果风从上往下吹

一把伞就可以挡住冷

房间只需要一个石灰顶

不再在乎什么是墙

它已像季节一样消散

 

冷渐渐有了重量

和雨一起落在帽子上

头颅也许顶不住

这突如其来的喜悦

或者惊惧

***

Leaves 

Let me hide in a forest 

Turn into a leaf 

The tiniest one among billions 

 

Let my timidity find its anchor 

Leaning against the branch, soothing my own chill 

When the wind blows, all nod in unison 

Yet my abstention vote remains valid  

***

叶子

让我躲进一片森林

变作一片树叶

成为亿万叶子中最小的那个

 

让我的怯懦有所依凭

背靠枝桠自抚凉寒

风来时，全体点头

而我的弃权票依然有效

***

New Year’s Day 

An orange rests on the desk — uneaten, 

Kept only to breathe in its fragrance. 

A book lies open; whichever page the wind turns to, I read.

I may still refuse, or hold my silence, 

And be innocent of all fault. 

This is a grace bestowed by heaven.

In an instant, the new day fades into the familiar old.

Cracks wriggle wildly like snakes; 

Collapse has become inevitable. 

***

元旦

橙子放在案头，不吃掉，只为闻她的香味。

书本打开，风吹哪页读哪页。

还可以拒绝，或保持沉默

且无罪。

这是天赐的恩泽。

新日子瞬间变成日常的旧。

裂痕蛇一样乱窜，坍塌已不可避免。

***

Late at Night 

The wind lifts me and carries me along 

Lame, hobbling step by step 

As if in a funeral procession

The road stretches empty, desolate 

From the tree shadows, a figure emerges 

Staggering forward 

I follow close behind him 

And whisper softly 

Father. 

***

深夜

风架着我走

一瘸一拐

仿佛在送葬

路上空空荡荡

树影中闪出一人

蹒跚前行

我跟在他身后

轻轻叫一声

爸爸

***

Pale Sunshine 

The fur lies spread out flat, 

Clinging tightly to the asphalt road. 

A scrap or two of it 

Hides quietly in the distance. 

The bloodstains have dried up, 

Brownish-black tinged with faint gray. 

A car rolls over them — 

My car quickly follows behind. 

That cat, which seemed asleep, 

Rises slowly behind me, 

Patting off the dirty blood crumbs 

As if brushing dust from its coat. 

***

阳光白

皮毛平摊开

紧紧贴在柏油路上

其中一块半块

悄悄躲于远处

血迹已经干枯

棕黑透着浅灰

一辆汽车轧过去

我的车迅速跟上

那只睡着的猫

在我身后

缓缓站起来

拍拍肮脏的血渣

如同拍掉身上的尘土

***

Departure and Return 

Here, stars come into view by night 

May shooting stars not strike those far away 

 

An autumn of alternating cold and warmth 

Leaves spiral down to fall, 

Sticking to the muddy ground, waiting 

For a stronger wind to carry them off 

 

My heart remains as still as calm water 

***

离与回

这里的晚上可以看到星星

流星不要砸到遥远的人

 

一冷一暖的秋天，叶子旋转着落下

粘在泥地上，等着更大的风把它带走

 

心如止水。

______________________ 

Read: Spring Melody – Poetry from China