View this article only in English |
Poetry From the May 2014 issue: Taboos: New Dutch and Flemish Writing
In the morning, a word
from someone else's
dream peeks at me
like a conspiracy.
The minute I open my eyes
with an elegant gesture,
The lonely word
is a terminal patient:
pain and screaming,
But I’m envious—it flies up
the minute it takes me.
Liu XiaLiu Xia
Liu Xia (1961- ), Chinese poet, artist, and photographer, was born and grew up in Beijing, and worked as a civil servant for the Beijing tax bureau. She started writing poetry in 1982 and met Liu Xiaobo at a literary gathering. She married Xiaobo when he was imprisoned in 1996. Liu Xia has been under house arrest since her husband was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2010, while Liu Xiaobo himself is serving the eleven-year sentence in a prison in the northeast China.
Translated from ChineseChinese by Ming DiMing Di and by Jennifer SternJennifer Stern
Ming Di is a poet, translator, and editor of New Cathay: Contemporary Chinese Poetry (Tupelo Press, co-published by Poetry Foundation, 2013). She received a Henry Luce Foundation fellowship in 2013.
Jennifer Stern is an American poet and translator.
This copy is for your personal, noncommercial use only. You can order presentation-ready copies for distribution by contacting us at email@example.com.