Translation: The Wound and Other Poems by Hsieh San-Chin
- Joyce Chen
- May 21, 2014
- 3 min read
Happily translated three poems by young poet Hsieh San-Chin and got him published in Movimiento Poetas del Mundo - an international movement of poets founded in Chilé. These poems were written during a recent Taiwan political crisis (known as the Sunflower Movement) in late March 2014, during which students occupied the parliament for 23 days in protest of the government's heavy-handed passing of a Taiwan-China trade pact, which they believed to be a menace to Taiwan's sovereignty.
Here are the three poems:
The Wound
When Darkness hovers over naked Earth,
The Sea and Rainclouds jointly weave
Shall the world go slightly further into danger,
Justice will no longer be contained in its sheath.
The tragic thing is we are still perfectly safe,
While the messenger from afar has imparted,
“Our wizards have past away…
Our heroes have weathered and declined...”
Is it time to start packing,
Or insert the game disk?
The abrupt rainstorm was slowly tamed;
Now only raging thunder remains.
Heaven above, don’t bother to hold the umbrella for me.
The gusts rage on; I still have my roof.
Shall I go slightly deeper into romanticism,
I will be immune from the harm of our time.
All of a sudden, calamities are transforming the far away mountains and rivers.
The smoke of wars, like rolls of cigarette, slowly consumes
The bliss in some corner of the world.
I switched on the doomsday radio,
And even the noises went speechless,
How do I even begin to confess my only faith – words.
They remain perfectly intact…
I Did Not Call Upon You This Time
I did not call upon you this time,
My dear country.
When the sound of winds drowned out
The hustle and bustle of cities,
And tactful State-affairs inadvertently
Put my loyalty to tests,
How am I to love you without holding back?
How am I to follow your trail
On this aimless voyage?
I looked up and counted the stars, only to realize
That all of them were imaginary.
Those nightmares that we never dared to dream
Have overruled the night sky,
And blotted out the faded heavens.
I used to be rational and cool-headed,
And watched an entire era went cold.
I waited with proper restraint, only to receive
A stunted future that never sprouts.
Shall I continue to be told, “We are -- ”
Um, ready?
I can still recall
The blueprint we’ve carefully drawn together.
(Our untainted hearts made of clear glass
Used to glow because of it.)
How steadfast and eternal was the glow
Of our faith, so self-inflammable like hot ashes.
How come, at this moment of reunion,
That it has come to this…
(Fear was never my option.
But why has it become
The only thing I was given now…)
We have missed so much
That we no longer allow more wrongs to pass.
Dear country,
I did not call upon you this time
Because I recognized your abandoned fireworks
In the eyes of the crowd.
That was a dawn you no longer promise,
A fire from the gods
That only on-lookers could steal.
The Lights-Out Trumpet
Darkness has fallen
Why again choose this very moment
To make authoritative commands
Asking us to clear our thoughts
And close our eyes
For there are too many things
That should be kept in reticence
In some dark nameless corner
Somebody raises a trumpet
Like some kind of scepter
And smashes the unanswering Night
With low metallic groans
Announcing the coming
Of an End
Or a Victory
Forcing us to lie down
As if retreat is the only strategy
The dazzling World in the end
Is only allowed to work the night shift
And carry out ceaseless patrols
Someone used to deliver
God’s saying,
“Let there be Light,”
And there was Light.
Who then overshadowed this God-given radiance
And let Darkness befall once more
(The Night-Watchers pace back and forth
In a vigilant search for eyes awaiting the Dawn)
Deeper into the Night
The fearful rumors have all materialized.
Though we are huddled together
We have to hush.
Yet
The wandering wind
The rustling grass
The restless trees
And the creaking insects
Are all whispering to us,
“Dawn is near;
Let us not fall gently into sleep.”
---------------------------------------------------
The poet, Hsieh San-Chin, is the current editor-in-chief of The Wind Sphere Magazine, and member of The Epoch Poetry Club. He is also a member of monthly literary critic magazine - Secret Reader. The collection of his poems, Fireworks, was published in 2011. He is also the editor of Golden Anthology of Poetry - Taiwan 1980’s Generation.
Comments