Jingwa / 井蛙 

Jingwa（b. 1970s）Lives in California, USA. As a poet, a psychologist and an author of six published works, she contributes to many collections of fiction and poetry.  She wrote a series of articles on works of impressionist and modern painters including Monet, Manet, Van Gogh, Gauguin, Cezanne, Renoir, Matisse, Munch and others, for study of these articles she traveled to visit art museums in Paris, California, Belgium, Shanghai, Tibet, Nepal, Amsterdam, Anchorage, New York, Boston, Berlin, Weimar and Prague. Her publications include poems “Selected Poems of JINGWA“（2003）and “The Eternal Auvers-sur-Oise”（2011）, history “The Fragrant Library” （2011）as well as novels “Mom Left Me Alone”（2001）and “Rush Out a Glittering Sword” （2002）.

Email: jingwa64@hotmail.com 

        To My Father / 给父               

The sadline wine

Passed the door of the drunkard’s who forgot the time

I don’t know what kind of tribute should be feted on your birthday

And only know that this century has recorded the gap of two

                                        generations

The bland missing was growing by your grave

The gate of my city is still toughly guarding the blast of wind

Its coming represents

The affection brought by me and the happiness of the field

It’s ture that there is never a sense of being drunk to climb

                              the window in my face

To climb the struggle of the difficulties of language

And to climb the staring of the light pole

苦涩的酒

经过醉汉的家门他忘了年月

我也记不得你的生辰该用什么贡品祭祀

只知道这世纪已记录了两代人的隔阂

你的墓旁长满了冷漠的想念

我的城门依然固执地守着一阵风

它的到来是我

带给孩子的感动和田野的春心荡漾

是的，我脸上从没有一丝醉意爬上窗

爬上言语困难的挣扎

爬上电线杆上的凝望

                   To You / 给你

The rolling empty bottle in the street reminds me of

The times of wine

Of the dead drunk person lying on the straw mat which is

                            Reversal in time and space

Of the weaving hands weaving the never-to-be-awaken dream

The drunk dream reminds me of

The mercy upstairs being a pile of blankness

Because that is a watcher who knows nothing about life

And reminds me of the moment being occupied by love

The solitary mountain locates at the eaves that hold the sun

                        the moon the wind and the storm

It reminds me of our busy time in the rain

Your silence was thrown to the sailor who is pulling the rope

The sailor gave the vast sea the foams that haven’t been

                               back from its squander

街上一个滚动的空瓶子使我想起

酒那年月

想起醉死的人躺在时空颠倒的草席

想起编织的手编织不醒的梦

梦的醉想起

楼上的怜悯只是一堆空白

因为那是不懂生活的旁观者

使我想起被爱占有的时刻

寂寞的山座落在日月阴晴风雨的屋檐

想起雨中我们的忙碌

你的沉默抛给了拉绳子的水手了

水手给了汪洋给了漂泊未归的泡沫

        No Time To Be Sad / 没有时间悲伤

Your silent glance hurt the returning shepherd

When the flock of crows was tweedling for the feeling of hatred

Can they still fly in the sky that hasn’t ever been touched

Has migrate, a city

The missing of Chinese way can never defeat

The inflammation of today

I truly believe that there is a wall which is crying while

                           squatting in the third space

And is waiting for the pined body to say farewell to the

                  black shadow that is approaching her

你沉默的眼神戳痛牧归的人

当一笼鸦噪于自己的妒恨

这片未被碰触的天空还可以飞翔吗

一座城市迁徙了

中国式的思念总是敌不过今天

烈焰的火化

我相信还有第三度空间蹲着哭泣的墙

在等消瘦的遗体告别她渐渐迫近的黑影