Yen Shang / 岩上
Yen Shang(b. 1938), pen name of Yen Cheng-hsing, is a native of Nan Tou Country, Taiwan. He once worked as a teacher and retired earlier than usual, then served as a chairman of Taiwan Children literature Association and the editor-in-chief of Li Poetry Bimothly. He has begun his work on modern poems since 1955 and till now has published ten books of poetry including “The Rolling Age” and three of poetical criticism including “The Existence of Poems”. He won Wu Zhuoliu New Poetry Prize, New Poetry Creation Prize by the Chinese Literature Contribution Prize and Taiwan Poets Prize. He was the founder of the Poems Pulse Club.
yenshang@pchome.com.tw
Mudslide / 土石流
Soil cannot put down roots
Stone cannot stand
Flow continuous has been the flow of life’s
Tears followed by sweat and blood
Then the heart is exhausted
What else has
Been licked by the flames of war?
Fire and water don’t mix
Walls fall
Fields abandoned
Orchards toppled
All property
Mixed with mud and stone
Scattered
Why do
The mountains become irritable?
The earth loosen legs?
The stones bust guts?
The sky break bladder and urinary organs?
The land is epileptic
The forest runs wild
The stream, paralyzed, can’t catch hold of its banks
Clamber to safety? Where?
Hands waving for help
Staggering
Around
A betel palm spits out a mouthful of chewed
Blood
Translated by John J.S. BALCOM 陶忘機
Fire /火
Burning anger, this world
The never-ending wars are the spreading fires of anger against unfairness
In fact, there is a gentle and graceful flame in the mind of each person
Warmly comforts the self; illuminates the others
The continuation of life relies on
The passing of the never distinguished fire
Fires are extinguished in the water; Fires are created in the water
Fires are the never-ending desires
Translated by Litze Hu
Dance / 舞
Break one’s tendons and bones section by section
Re-string them together into a rope
Throw out the rope and it becomes a snake; so soft it turns into water
Fishes jump out of the water and become eagles
Fly and circle over; spin out of drifting clouds
Like crashing rain; from heaven to earth, becomes the embodiment of lotus and returns to the tumultuous sea
Dance is change, physical motion becomes image language
Dance with one’s style; fills with changes and disillusionments
Translated by Litze Hu