Zhang Mo (Chang Mo)—mo meaning “silence”—is the pen name of Zhang Dezhong, who was born in Wuwei County, Anhui Province. He attended middle school in Nanjing and during the Sino-Japanese War (1937–45) moved around between his hometown and Nanjing. In spring 1949 he went to Taiwan via Shanghai and joined the navy, in which he served for more than two decades.
Zhang Mo cofounded the Epoch Poetry Society in 1954 with Luo Fu and Ya Xian while they were stationed in Zuoying in southern Taiwan. To date he has published ten books of poetry and four volumes of literary criticism, and has edited numerous poetry anthologies. For nearly half a century Zhang has dedicated himself to the compilation of modern poetry archives, including poetry collections, periodicals, critical studies, and historical documents. He has made a unique contribution to the understanding and study of modern Chinese poetry in Taiwan.
Out of the moon in the branch tips flow
sparks of fire
Out of the sparks of fire flow
two shores covered with thin grass
Out of the two shores covered with thin grass flow
clouds in relief
Out of the clouds in relief flows
the still sleeping earth
Out of the still sleeping earth flows
an as-yet-unfinished ink-splash painting
Out of an as-yet-unfinished ink-splash painting
rapidly flows
An empty horizon line where no soul walks
I’m Yang Pass where the song of parting never ends
(1972)
(translated by John Balcom)
I AM A GLASS OF UNLIMITED VOLUME
Standing on the face of time
A layer of cold light faintly floats
Sinking as you draw near
Rising as you move away
I am a glass of unlimited volume
Piercing its clear pupils
To grasp the moving fluid
As if to glimpse everything
Exposed under the sun’s rays
There is nothing after all
Other than a huge stemless glass
I am delighted that the world surges like waves
Fortunately, I am a glass of unlimited volume
(1975)
(translated by John Balcom)
the silverfish
slowly
paint
on the spines of traditional
string-bound books
Andersen’s Fairy Tales, which stands to one side
and
Mickey Mouse, who fights indefatigably for justice
ferociously savor
the silent aroma of alcohol
and Li He serenely
dozes how many times
and Ryunosuke Akutagawa gleefully tosses away
a fool’s life
night surges
through a small path in Neihu
the name of which is of no consequence
violently I bite chunk after chunk
out of my own shadow
(1977)
(translated by John Balcom)
SHAKE THE HEAD, WAG THE TAIL: A SEVEN-STORIED PAGODA
On the very top of the pagoda
I reach out and grab a few sluggish white clouds
Wring them out
So that the sky won’t rustle so
Then I stealthily take
The obscure sound of birds
In an airtight cage
Down to the sixth floor
Their melody hums with the wind chimes under the pagoda’s eaves
Descending to the fifth floor
There sits a naked monk
Begging bowl in cupped hands
His eyes closed in meditation
Oh, the sounds of nature
Loudly a flock of winter jackdaws is heard
from beyond the borders
Invigorated, lined up on the fourth-floor spiral staircase
Skipping and jumping, skipping and jumping
One by one down to the
Third floor
Second floor
First floor
With its maddening crowd
A sudden storm, the pagoda
is unable to withstand it
Shakily, with the horizon on its back
Despondency and darkness on its back
It departs
(1995)
(translated by John Balcom)
I see
the world
gently swaying on a mulberry leaf
I see
humanity
softly crying in a broken jar
I see
history
shining wearily in an ancient temple
I see
the future
suddenly crouching there in a coffin
(1995)
(translated by John Balcom)