Poems I Found in My
Father’s Journal
Adapted
and translated into English by Hongjing Lu and Keith Holyoak.
Based
on a poem in Chinese by Dong Fangyu as adapted by Li Jian.
1984—the crops are still not harvested.
Rocked in my arms at last my son’s asleep, looks so serene—
No chance tonight to go and watch the movie under stars,
My wife needs me to fix the pedal on the sewing machine.
Tomorrow I’ve got
to catch my neighbor, try to borrow money—
The whole day long
the kid was crying, begging for a cookie.
By day’s end sorrow
bores through my cheap jacket to my heart—
Squatting beside
the pond I want to rip the thing apart.
These are the words I found in my father’s journal,
Ink stains from his youth, like traces left by another.
Today I read these poems and blink my eyes—
Like a shadow at dusk, easy to miss my father.
1994—the crops are finally harvested.
My mother left this world last year—so weary, always kind!
My son woke up, put on his new white shirt and ran to school—
He’s looking slim, but lately something’s weighing on his mind.
I’ll waft away like old banknotes smoldering in a pile,
But soon my son will stand a full-grown man, then in a while
A lovely girl will fall for him, they’ll start their family.
Just one wish, just one—let them be happier than me!
These are the words I found in my father’s journal,
Ink stains from his life, like traces left by another.
Today I read these poems and blink my eyes—
Like a shadow at dusk, easy to miss my father.
These are the words I found in my father’s journal,
Ink stains from his life, like traces left by another.
Today I read these poems and blink my eyes—
Like a wind-tossed newspaper, easy to miss my father.
These are the footprints left by a generation—
After the rains the traces disappear.
So many sorrows buried beneath this place!
We blink our eyes and miss who brought us here.
Thank you for sharing this. I wish there was more.
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