Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Zheng Xiaoqiong

Middle-aged prostitutes

Low tiled houses of the village-in-the-city     gloomy damp light
foul musty sewers     they sit at the doors
knitting sweaters     chatting     sizing up the men coming and going in a hurry
Their eyeshadows     or rouge can’t hide their age
over thirty or older     in the motley village-in-the-city
They talk about their business of the flesh and customers
¥30     ¥20     occasionally some customer would
give ¥50     They talk about the sweaters in their hands
their patterns and colors     They knit for their parents
in distant Sichuan     or mail the finished sweaters
to their faraway sons     Their actions reveal dexterity
Sometimes they talk about a fellow sex worker nearby caught
and fined ¥4,000     They say they pay ¥300 a month to
a person familiar with their situation     Though this “fee for protection”
is ten times a regular business transaction    they consider
themselves being laid ten times by a ghost
huge and hollow     They feel frustrated
When I imagine their lives now     in the past
and future     I find hidden under the sweaters in their hands
the heart of mothers     wives and
daughters     their sighs in darkness and
their helpless groans behind closed doors     Unnoticed and invisible they
a group of mothers     knit sweaters at the doors     These
middle-aged prostitutes     their gaze resembles the face of their country
so blurry     entirely incomprehensible to the masses.

Prostitutes van middelbare leeftijd

laagbouw met dakpannen in een sloppenwijk     donker, vochtig licht
vieze, beschimmelde riolen     de vrouwen zitten in de deuropening
breien truien     kletsen      en keuren voorbijkomende mannen
oogschaduw en rouge     kunnen hun leeftijd niet verdoezelen
ruim dertig of ouder     in de hectische sloppenwijk
bespreken zij hun lichaamshandel en klandizie
dertig kuai     twintig kuai     af en toe geeft een klant
vijftig kuai     ze bespreken de patronen en kleuren
van de truien in hun handen     ze breien voor hun ouders
ver in Sichuan      of ze sturen het gebreide naar
een verre zoon     ze zijn behendig
soms praten ze over een gearresteerde collega uit de buurt
vierduizend kuai boete gehad     ze zeggen dat ze elke maand driehonderd kuai
aan een ingewijde geven      hoewel dit zogenaamde beschermgeld
tien standaard zakelijke transacties zijn     is het voor hen alsof
ze tienmaal door een geest zijn genomen     al is die geest
gigantisch groot en hol     ze voelen zich verloren
ik stel me hun huidige leven voor     dat van vroeger
en dat in de toekomst     onder de truien in hun handen
schuilt het hart van een moeder     het hart van een echtgenote
het hart van een dochter    hun zuchten in het donker en
hun hulpeloze gekreun achter gesloten deuren     op de achtergrond zijn ze
een groepje moeders     dat truien breit in de deuropening     de oogopslag
van deze prostituees van middelbare leeftijd is net zo wazig
als het gezicht van de staat    onbegrijpelijk voor de massa

中年妓女

城中村低矮的瓦房 阴暗而潮湿的光线
肮脏而霉味的下水道 她们坐在门口
织毛衣 聊天 打量来去匆匆的男人
她们的眼影 胭脂掩饰不了她们的年龄
三十多岁或者更大 在混杂的城中村
她们谈论她们的皮肉生意与客人
三十块 二十块 偶尔会有一个客人
给五十块 她们谈论手中毛衣的
花纹与颜色 她们帮远在四川的
父母织几件 或者将织好的寄往
遥远的儿子 她们动作麻利
有时她们会谈论邻近被抓的同行
罚款四千 她们说每个月交了三百块
给知情人士 虽然这些所谓的保护费
是她们十桩普通生意 她们认为
算被鬼压了十次 虽然这鬼
庞大而虚无 她们有些失落
我想象她们现在的生活 过去的生活
以及未来的生活 就像她们手中的毛衣下
潜藏着一颗母亲的心 妻子的心以及
女儿的心 她们在黑暗中的叹息以及
掩上门后无奈的呻吟 在背后她们是
一群母亲 在门口织着毛衣 这些
中年妓女的眼神有如这个国家的面孔
如此模糊 令人集体费解
Close

Middle-aged prostitutes

Low tiled houses of the village-in-the-city     gloomy damp light
foul musty sewers     they sit at the doors
knitting sweaters     chatting     sizing up the men coming and going in a hurry
Their eyeshadows     or rouge can’t hide their age
over thirty or older     in the motley village-in-the-city
They talk about their business of the flesh and customers
¥30     ¥20     occasionally some customer would
give ¥50     They talk about the sweaters in their hands
their patterns and colors     They knit for their parents
in distant Sichuan     or mail the finished sweaters
to their faraway sons     Their actions reveal dexterity
Sometimes they talk about a fellow sex worker nearby caught
and fined ¥4,000     They say they pay ¥300 a month to
a person familiar with their situation     Though this “fee for protection”
is ten times a regular business transaction    they consider
themselves being laid ten times by a ghost
huge and hollow     They feel frustrated
When I imagine their lives now     in the past
and future     I find hidden under the sweaters in their hands
the heart of mothers     wives and
daughters     their sighs in darkness and
their helpless groans behind closed doors     Unnoticed and invisible they
a group of mothers     knit sweaters at the doors     These
middle-aged prostitutes     their gaze resembles the face of their country
so blurry     entirely incomprehensible to the masses.

Middle-aged prostitutes

Low tiled houses of the village-in-the-city     gloomy damp light
foul musty sewers     they sit at the doors
knitting sweaters     chatting     sizing up the men coming and going in a hurry
Their eyeshadows     or rouge can’t hide their age
over thirty or older     in the motley village-in-the-city
They talk about their business of the flesh and customers
¥30     ¥20     occasionally some customer would
give ¥50     They talk about the sweaters in their hands
their patterns and colors     They knit for their parents
in distant Sichuan     or mail the finished sweaters
to their faraway sons     Their actions reveal dexterity
Sometimes they talk about a fellow sex worker nearby caught
and fined ¥4,000     They say they pay ¥300 a month to
a person familiar with their situation     Though this “fee for protection”
is ten times a regular business transaction    they consider
themselves being laid ten times by a ghost
huge and hollow     They feel frustrated
When I imagine their lives now     in the past
and future     I find hidden under the sweaters in their hands
the heart of mothers     wives and
daughters     their sighs in darkness and
their helpless groans behind closed doors     Unnoticed and invisible they
a group of mothers     knit sweaters at the doors     These
middle-aged prostitutes     their gaze resembles the face of their country
so blurry     entirely incomprehensible to the masses.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère