(1900–1976)
Although little is known of the life of the elusive “poet eccentric” of the 1920s, Li Jinfa was credited with introducing French Symbolism to China. Born Li Shuliang in Guangdong, he adopted the pen name “Jinfa” (literally meaning “golden hair”) because of a recurring dream in which he was flying in the sky, led by a blond goddess. In 1919 he went to study sculpture and painting in France, where he became enamored with the poetic symbolism of Charles Baudelaire and Paul Verlaine. He wrote his best symbolist poems in the early 1920s, incorporating French words in his lines, which irritated many contemporary and later critics. Upon returning to China in 1925, he taught art history and was once appointed China’s ambassador to Iraq. After the founding of the People’s Republic in 1949, Li left China and lived a reclusive life on a chicken farm in New Jersey. He died in Long Island in 1976.
Long hair hangs disheveled before my eyes,
Severing all hostile stares of contempt,
And the quick flow of fresh blood, the deep sleep of dried bones.
The dark night and mosquitoes arrive slowly together,
Over the corner of this low wall,
To scream behind my clean white ears
Like the crazed winds raging in the wilderness,
Frightening the wandering shepherds.
With a blade of grass, I come and go with the spirit of
God in the empty valley.
My sorrow can be deeply imprinted only in the brains of
roaming bees.
Or with the waterfalls, let it be dashed down the hanging cliffs,
To be then drifted away with the red leaves.
The hidden grief burdens her every move.
No fire of setting sun can melt the ennui of time
Into ashes, and fly away through the chimney
To color the wings of the roaming crows,
And with them perch on the rocks of a roaring sea
To listen quietly to the boatman’s song.
The frail old skirt mournfully sighs
As she wanders among the graves.
Never will there be hot tears
To drop on the lawn
To adorn the world.
1
Wind and rain in the ocean,
Wild deer dead in my heart.
Look, autumn dream has spread its wings and departed,
Leaving behind only this wilted soul.
2
I seek abandoned desires,
I mourn discolored lips.
Ah, in the gloom of dark grass,
The moon gathers our deep silence.
3
In love’s ancient palace,
Our nuptials have fallen ill.
Take a discarded candle,
Dusk has shrouded the fields.
4
What do I need at this moment?
As if in fear of being scorched to death by the sun!
Go, the garden gate is unfastened;
The roaming bees have come in winged sandals.
5
I await the waking of dream,
I await my wakefulness to sleep.
But with your tears in my eyes,
I have no strength to see the past.
6
Leaning against snow, you long for spring;
Amid the faded grass, I listen to the cicadas’ cries.
Our lives are withered, too wasted,
Like a rice field after a stampede.
7
I sing rhymeless folk songs
With my heart keeping the beat.
Entrust your sorrows in my bosom
Where they will be cured.
8
The sleeping lotus in the shade
Cannot understand the glory of sun and moon.
Row your boat to the wide pond,
And let it learn a bit of love in the world of men.
9
Our memories
Are searching for a way home from the wilderness.
(Translated by Julia C. Lin)