FLIGHT (EXTRACT 2) Poem by Yu Jian

a god-given day utterly radiant

the sky ties on its blue apron like the mother of all Sundays

who sets out at daybreak for markets of dawn

in her basket fresh flowers bloom

southern valley-basin a read clam oozing mud-slime

the lakes too are azure fish swim in them

young women lift their breasts clear of the village in the direction of the hives

in forest clearings everything female is conceiving

a cicada full of tenderness sits outside the forest-keeper's hut

how blessed I am to strike a day like this the sun up

one of all the world's living creatures mine, too, is a life in the light

o God I know your secret



far from the great river I discuss new makes of car on a dark street

the air hurts us you are my blind spot for so many years now I've held myself apart from things

all I see are the wigs in the rows in front of me the plastic flowers representing some kind of southern flora

in the shadows of the mountains you turned into a bitch-wolf o Shanban lover of the jack-fruit of the South

that day I crossed the Shweli River a dark-skinned daughter of the tropics lay floating on its reddish waters

o bare-foot girl star-like beetles clung to your ragged skirt

and on your neck: the dust of palm trees