These are unusual times. These poets are tale-tellers of their world.                  (All rights reserved.)
ISBN 978-0-9840097-8-7
21st Century Chinese Poetry, No. 5 (OCT 2012)

This issue features  the poetry of  Ye Zhou 叶舟 ,  Ren Xianqing 任先青, Peng Sibin 彭世彬, Liu Yali  刘亚丽, Mengye 梦也, Jing Qiufeng 井秋峰,  Yuan Shiping 袁诗萍 and Liu Congmei 刘聪美.

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Ye Zhou 叶舟

Ren Xianqing 任先青

  • Qu Yuan, the Poet  |  屈原
  • On Sundays  |  星期天
  • The Setting Sun  |  西望,落日

Peng Shibin 彭世彬

Liu Yali 刘亚丽

Mengye 梦也

  • Pre-Dawn on the Balcony  |  黎明四点钟的阳台
  • The Narrow Road  |  小路
  • Your Native Home  |  你出生的地方
  • Fava Bean Blossom  |  大豆开花

Jing Qiufeng 井秋峰

  • Tea  |  
  • Nightfall  |  傍晚
  • The Shepherd  |  放羊人
  • Learning about Love from Water  |  爱如水

Yuan Shiping 袁诗萍

Liu Congmei 刘聪美

  • The Legend of Morin Quur  |  马头琴

From 21st Century Chinese Poetry, No. 5

  • The food and drink of Central Asia
  • you think revolve around the smell of mutton –
  • Some tea traders have come from the south,
  • bringing an earthy fragrance, an ancient puzzle.
  • — Ye Zhou, The Southern Tea Traders

  • It's evident your words couldn't move the king
  • even though the trickling river
  • was able to play the chords of your heart.
  • You finally turned back and morphed into a fish;
  • that might be a blessing
  • or did you just declare war?
  • — Ren Xianqing, Qu Yuan

  • Those dainty paper flowers,
  • each gives out a different fragrance;
  • so lively and poised,
  • ethereal and alluring.
  • I hear bells, not from cats or dogs unrelated to me;
  • it’s music, played by some human hand.
  • What a surprise! I want to turn around.
  • .
  • I hear bells, not from cats or dogs unrelated to me;
  • it’s music, played by some human hand.
  • What a surprise! I want to turn around.
  • — Peng Shibin, Paper Flowers

  • Spring Blossom Tea is kept in a tea-tin,
  • until it loses all human touch.
  • It is served at every single weekly meeting,
  • meetings so serious they resemble
  • newspaper text ‘set solid’.
  • — Liu Yali, Wednesday Afternoon Tea

  • Sweet flowers of fava beans,
  • they roll out a purple bed just for you.
  • All is for you, even in our tiny space of love.
  • The bean field blooms into a violent sea
  • in the loudest shout.
  • — Mengye, Fava Bean Blossom

  • A white-out, a silvery frosty world,
  • you and your sheep move like transient snow.
  • No grass in sight for the flock and no road for you.
  • — Jing Qiufeng, The Shepherd

  • I called her my temptress cousin,
  • my tall-slender cousin.
  • She quit school right after junior high
  • and always called a tangerine a dangerine;
  • any objection would only meet with
  • her rolling eyes.
  • — Yuan Shiping, My Cousin from the West End

  • Beside my mountain home, waiting for the moon to rise,
  • I serve a cup of tea for my soul mate.
  • — Anonymous, Historic Tea Verses

  • At the base of the tongue, every day, the taste of tea.
  • Before the eyes, everywhere, poems to rescue.
  • — Zhang Kejiu (Yuan Dynasty), Historic Tea Verses

  • Morin Quur, Morin Quur,
  • melancholy soul,
  • across the suffering grasslands
  • your accusations roll.
  • Where horses toil and teardrops boil,
  • there comes an answering cry
  • of outraged indignation,
  • Poor Swift Wind, fly!
  • — Liu Congmei, The Legend of Morin Quur