含章诗苑 华裔诗人 第1期 2019 原创：古冈（中国上海）
《飞 蚊 》
by Gu Gang
Ailing in a corner, the sunset flits by
like a mosquito.
Slender long feet, a slap,
limbs stuck to the grid,
sketches of tiny cracks
on a white tile.
Palm size, heat on the ice.
Rectangular window, an air vent,
a suck, the mosquito does what it does best:
Drilling a well on the skin, it carries
different blood types,
flaunting the world with its fishy smell.
Swinging a bamboo fan, a draft from left to right.
Plain shirt, sleeves rolled up in summer heat,
dry and cracked in old age.
Unable to ever swing again,
flying flies are stuck to our glassy eyes,
as if salvation awaits.
Translated by Duck Yard Lyricists
Duck Yard Lyricists is a group of devoted poetry lovers: Meifu Wang, Peter Micic, Michael Soper & Johan Ramaekers.
----To Communicate Gu Gang
“Ganggang, go! Did you hear me?”
An afternoon, 1970’s, Shanghai
After school, an introverted and timid primary school boy
I, seized by his voice and cast out
“Listen to grandpa, it will be good for your future, and you must learn to speak to people.” Now I recall the obscure living room
Where three old leather cases were lying in a stack
And a fishing pole reached out two meters from the corner
Ghostly quiet outside the house
As if to avoid the plague, neighbors evacuated in an instance
Nothing left save the doorplate, silently
Waiting for a day which never comes
Takes all away
He left his diary, which was the gage of my feeling
After that I always spoke to people under his watch
Magnifying other’s voice without limit
Like cheating in class
(January 18, 2001)