Archive for May, 2007

grow lush on misspent rain

Tuesday, May 29th, 2007

Did part of you miss all the attention?
All that time; the urge to kindness that bent
my knees before you. Later, will someone
ask you, now that I am back, just what sent
me from you? and why did you let me go?
You fed me; let me grow lush on misspent
rain. Now my strength is growing, my shadow
long and lewd. Memory is a torment.
Let drought take memory from my yellow
heart. Tell them all I came to you naked.
For you I even sang. Tell them, also,
that once cut all my sad petals faded
from bloom. Let all these blossoms, love, again
blush pink in your deliriously hard rain.

run violent in me

Wednesday, May 23rd, 2007

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"circe" by Shelley 2007

My dear friend Shelley drew this for me. Originally it was for a different poem about the goddess Circe, but Shelley said she still wanted to work on it. So I am putting this with the sonnet I just wrote. When I get the new version of the drawing I will put it with the original poem. Thanks Shelley, you rock!

Today you sing, “I love you! I love you!
I love you!” And what of it? Did it keep
love at your side? Did any fat ghost who
wanders your whispered landscape stop to weep
or laugh or speak to you? We all possess
secrets. We all possess passions that sleep.
Who does not have the wild urge to caress
or be caressed? When you think of the deep
green roots you have thrust into me, moist dirt
of my heart, the tenderness, the distress,
all the subtle feelings of the desert
that run violent in me, did you once guess
who would pluck you from this moist soil and why?
Who would watch you wither and fade and die?

qiu jin — IX

Tuesday, May 8th, 2007


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image taken from the china-fun website.

I have not been able to find all of Qiu Jin’s floral poems yet what I have found, however, intrigues me. I am sure if I knew more about Chinese poetry and various themes and motifs that run through it I might understand a bit better the references she is using; however the idea of flowers being fierce warrior spirits delights me. I had a lot of help with these poems from my friend in Beijing, Linnypooh. No one works in a void and I must thank her for her assistance.

What I am really excited about is a book that I ordered last week from the Reed College Library in Portland, Oregon, has come in. “Ch’iu Chin Chi” which means “The Complete Writings of Qiu Jin.” Now I have access to everything she ever wrote, most of which has never been translated into English (to the best of my knowledge). Oh happy days!

秋海棠

栽植恩深雨露同,一丛浅淡一丛浓。
平生不借春光力,几度开来斗晚风?

"Begonia"

To the heavy rain planting a flower
is a good thing; the color of each bloom
will vary from pale to dark. But this
flower never takes help from the springtime
sun to bloom; since its blossoms are
always beneath the cold wind.

These notes I quote here are taken from personal correspondences with Linnypooh. She writes: "The word for wind here symbolizes the darkness of the society, while the begonia symbolizes Qiujin who is an independent fighter, doesn't need any help but confronts the darkness bravely."

杜鹃花

杜鹃花发杜鹃啼,似血如朱一抹齐。
应是留春留不住,夜深风露也寒凄。

"Azalea"

When the Azalea flower blooms, the cuckoo cries
its scarlet color looks like it was brushed
onto the paper.

But no matter how the cuckoo cries it's impossible
to keep springtime here; maybe that's the reason
for the midnight wind and chilly dew?

Again she notes: "Qiujin here was trying to express a helpless feeling. The Cuckoo symbolized those warriors who were trying very hard to save the 'Spring' of the country, but no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't make the 'Spring' stay."

残菊

岭梅开后晓风寒,几度添衣怕倚栏。
残菊犹能傲霜雪,休将白眼向人看。

"Surviving Chrysanthemum"

You'll know coldness when it comes
to the Sika blooming on the mountain;
useless to add more clothing you’ll
always feel the cold. Yet the surviving
chrysanthemum doesn't fear the frost
or the snow or the glare from people
with such haughty expressions.

According to Linnypooh the Sika is a flower that blooms on the mountain sides.

独向东风舞楚腰,
为谁颦恨为谁娇?
灞陵桥畔销魂处,
临水傍堤万万条。

"Woven Limbs of Willow"

You only dance to the east wind
when you show off your slender
waist; who are you frowning
at? Who are you smiling to?

The Ba Ling Bridge is a place
filled with heartbreaking emotions;
where thousands and thousand
of pieces of woven limbs
of willow are left along the river.

Linnypooh wrote this morning, “Ba Ling Qiao used to be the place for people of Tang Dynasty to say farewell to their friends, and especially, they would cut willow wicker off as a farewell gift.” The literal translation of "liu tiao" is indeed "willow wicker," but that sounded like a beginning of a tongue twister to me. I like the image of thousands of hand-crafted wicker farewell gifts left along a river; however, "woven limbs of willow" seemed easier, a bit more graceful. I can always change it if I am losing something in the translation.

qiu jin — IIX

Sunday, May 6th, 2007


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still from the movie based on the ballet Red Detachment of Women (1930)

In attempting to find information on Qiu Jin's grave I found a cryptic message on a website concerned with Dragon Boat races, "Qiu Jin, also called rui qin jing xiong, Jianghu Swords-woman and yu gu, born in Shaoxing, Zhejiang Province, was good at poetry and verses, horse riding and swords-craft when she was young. So she was also called another Hua Mulan …" Then, on a website advertising tourist adventures in Hangzhou, China, I found an actual description of the island she is buried on:

Solitary Hill is located at the northwest corner of West Lake in Zhejiang Province. It is a natural island, about 900m from the bank … there is a huge square-shaped stone at the west side; there is a stone hole at the east side; a cliff is at the south side … In the water under the cliff, there are large groups of fish. Above the cliff, there is a wooden platform, standing on which, one can see the special scenery of "Fish Kingdom". The platform is called "Platform for Watching Fish" …. Solitary Hill is not only a place of beautiful scenery, but also a place of cultural relics … At the north foot of the Hill, there is a pavilion commemorating a poet named Lin Bu of Northern Sung Dynasty (960-1279 AD) … All he did was to raise cranes and plant plums. So there is a saying "Plum wife and crane son" … At the west foot of the Hill, there is the tomb of Qiu Jin, a heroine in Chinese history. When she died in 1907, she was only 32 years old. The present tomb was built in 1981. The tomb is made of granite with a square seat. A white marble statue of Qiu Jin was built on the seat … Besides, there also has a small garden. There are brooks, flowers, trees, pavilions and bridges inside the garden.

失题

登天骑白龙,
走山跨猛虎。
叱咤风云生,
精神四飞舞。
大人处世当与神物游,
顾彼豚犬诸儿安足伍!
不见项羽酣呼钜鹿战,
刘秀雷震昆阳鼓,
年约二十余,
而能兴汉楚;
杀人莫敢当,
万世钦英武。
愧我年二七,
于世尚无补。
空负时局忧,
无策驱胡虏。
所幸在风尘,
志气终不腐。
每闻鼓鼙声,
心思辄震怒。
其奈势力孤,
群才不为助。
因之泛东海,
冀得壮士辅。

The poem titled, "Untitled," is a good example of Qiu Jin's revolutionary and romantic roots coming together. She sees herself as "a violent dancing spirit," the stuff of legend and wishes she had lived long enough ago to witness Commander Xiang and Liu Xiu (two ancient generals of myth) wage war. To the sound of battle drums she curses her inability to act; again we see Qiu's lament that life is passing her by and she has nothing to show for her labors. Her own people are unable to or unwilling to help so she departs to Japan to seek like minded friends and allies. It is hard not to read into Qiu's poem biographical hints since she really did leave her "kids and/ dogs" and move to Japan in 1904 to attend university. But it is exactly that conceit, attributing biographical information from literature to a person, I wish to avoid. Poetry is poetry; a person's life is something completely different. Again, I must thank my friend Linnypooh, for without her help none of this would be possible.

Untitled

Riding a white dragon up to the sky,
striding deep in the mountains on
a fierce tiger. I am born in a roaring storm
with a violent dancing spirit; I shall be
holy on the earth. How could I ever
be satisfy with settling down with kids and
dogs! Without witnessing Commander Xiang
win his great battles, or hearing Liu Xiu rumbling
war drums; they were only twenty years old
but could make their countries flourish.
Don’t blame them for bloodshed but admire
them for bravery. Shame and failure! I’m
already 27; yet have no glory to my name.
I only worry for my country and have no idea
how to expel these invaders. I am glad my
great ambitions will never rot and waste away,
not when I hear the roar of war drums. Deep
inside I am outraged I cannot get help from my
own people; that I feel so helpless, so weak.
It is for that reason alone why I’m going
to Japan; to rally up aid, to look for assistance.

qiu jin — VII

Saturday, May 5th, 2007





actress Li Xiuming as Qiu Jin: Revolutionary

Our modern view of Qiu Jin is … curious, at best. Several Hong Kong produced movies have made it to the States (if you look hard enough); one was filmed in 1953 with the actress Li Lihua and again in 1983 staring Li Xiuming. There is a ballet about her and a teleplay in China that appeared in the 1990s. Apparently (though I am not very knowledgable here) there is at least one aria based on her poems that has appeared in a Peking opera and recorded by Zhang Junqiu.

But nothing deals with her writings, her inner life, her art. The film Peking Opera Blues (1986) claims to be "loosely" based on Qiu, a claim usually made by Westerns who only know (if they've even heard of her) that she wore men's clothing and carried a big sword and was the poster child for Mao's revolution.

I think it reflects on our own culture where a woman's literary accomplishments, her writings and philosophies, her passions, can be ignored and only outward appearances, such as Qiu dressing in Western male attire, gets all the attention. In this poem Qiu is certainly passionate about her desire to save her country. Ayscough, however, translates the title literally as, "On Board a Ship in the Yellow Sea to So Chu, a Man From Sun's Root Land (looking at a map showing battlefields in the Russo-Japanese struggle)" (153). No wonder people get confused with poetry! The "Sun's Root Land" is Japan. Qiu is shown a map of all the territory lost in the struggle against foreign invaders. Her response is this poem.

黄海舟中日人索句并见日俄战争地图

万里乘云去复来,只身东海挟春雷。
忍看图画移颜色,肯使江山付劫灰。
浊酒不销忧国泪,救时应仗出群才。
拼将十万头颅血,须把乾坤力挽回。

Off I went, sailing over ten
thousand leagues only to return
again; on the Eastern Sea I am
forlorn; the spring thunder
disheartens me. Do you think
I can even bear to look at
all the lost territories on the face
of your map? Do you think I can
stand that our rivers have been
ravished? Our hills turned to ash?
This muddy wine does not extinguish
these tears for my country; no,
only war spears will bring
our liberation; so from the ranks
of the wise I will set out. Is it
a serious crime to spill foreign
blood or take a hundred thousand
enemy skulls? I must remember
the strength of Heaven and Earth.

Works Cited

Ayscough, Florence. Chinese Women: yesterday & to-day. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company. (1937)