Poem
Shuijing Zhulian
Where the Disappearing Stops
the first thing to disappear was a name followed byendless road-signs
the hand I hold out the window is urged by an opposite wind
to stay
if it’s not Beijing that becomes a ruin then it has to
be me
in the joy of my one-woman disappearance, as far as everyone
in my past is concerned
I am nearly as secret as decease.
through identical entrances we return once again
to Beijing
Beijing’s clock time Beijing’s air temperature
Beijing’s anxieties
none of these stop simply because of my momentary
dying.
in the time that I’ve been out of town
I have not been mourned
have not be called on
have not been asked after
the sun we use now is the same one we used in the past
once more Beijing has brought me
unforeseen lightness and heartache
© Translation: 2003, Simon Patton
WHERE THE DISAPPEARING STOPS
© 2003, Shuijing Zhulian
Poems
Poems of Shuijing Zhulian
Close
Where the Disappearing Stops
the first thing to disappear was a name followed byendless road-signs
the hand I hold out the window is urged by an opposite wind
to stay
if it’s not Beijing that becomes a ruin then it has to
be me
in the joy of my one-woman disappearance, as far as everyone
in my past is concerned
I am nearly as secret as decease.
through identical entrances we return once again
to Beijing
Beijing’s clock time Beijing’s air temperature
Beijing’s anxieties
none of these stop simply because of my momentary
dying.
in the time that I’ve been out of town
I have not been mourned
have not be called on
have not been asked after
the sun we use now is the same one we used in the past
once more Beijing has brought me
unforeseen lightness and heartache
© 2003, Simon Patton
Where the Disappearing Stops
the first thing to disappear was a name followed byendless road-signs
the hand I hold out the window is urged by an opposite wind
to stay
if it’s not Beijing that becomes a ruin then it has to
be me
in the joy of my one-woman disappearance, as far as everyone
in my past is concerned
I am nearly as secret as decease.
through identical entrances we return once again
to Beijing
Beijing’s clock time Beijing’s air temperature
Beijing’s anxieties
none of these stop simply because of my momentary
dying.
in the time that I’ve been out of town
I have not been mourned
have not be called on
have not been asked after
the sun we use now is the same one we used in the past
once more Beijing has brought me
unforeseen lightness and heartache
© 2003, Simon Patton
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère