Mi Shisen, who writes under the pen name Xin Yu (Hsin Yü), was born in Hangzhou, although his ancestors came from Cixi, Zhejiang Province. In 1948 he ran away from home and enlisted in the Nationalist army in Beijing; he moved to Taiwan in 1950 and was honorably discharged in 1969. Since then he has been engaged in promoting science education through the publication of Science Monthly.
Xin Yu started writing poetry in 1951, having been inspired by fellow poet Sha Mu. He joined the Modernist School in 1956 and later associated himself closely with the Epoch Poetry Society. To date he has published six books of poetry, in addition to fiction, essays, and television scripts. He has served as the chief editor of the Epoch Poetry Quarterly since 1996.
1 Sun-pointing sunflowers stubbornly withstand the buffets of wind and rain
Testimony, day after day, to the radiance, the majesty of the sun
And the verdant forest is forever like a colorful circle
That knits together the rhythms of the heart of the earth with the harmonies of heaven
Creating a natural and subtle pulse
And then there is the mute magnificence of the many-tiered mountains
The soft suppleness of many-cadenced rivers
Amid the fecund and multifold fellow feeling
Man’s copious main theme stands out over all
Manifesting ultimate power and grace
2 On the garden walkways and the pathways in the field
They inscribed their brilliance and undying strength
In their footprints with creative hands
Again and again, molding and casting
My body in the lightning and the thunder
They plough me with the resuscitations of the spring sun
Plant in me the powerful fragrances of the summer sun
Dye me with the delectations of the autumn sun
Cover me with the distant aloofness of the winter sun
—Refining reality, burying illusions
3 Whether your fate is fixed or a matter of chance
Without ulterior motives
I open my heart to the flora and fauna
Allowing people, in augmented joy
To build an even more beautiful future
Do not mark me with the exhalations
Made rancid and corrupt by gold and diamonds and cash
Nor stalemate me with pseudo-truths and rigid formulas
I would rather, in the midst of the work of reclamation and construction
Let myself loose in the freedom of the sky
4 I willingly accept the dissection and analysis
In the narrow-mouth jar of human wisdom
Let me be marinated into a dessert
Or side dish Let my taste buds
Lightly touch my forehead and my lips like the petals of a flower
Then blood and tears flow from my eyes
I hope, in the foreseeable future
To hear the sound of suckling
Just as the sky is the loving mother to myriad stars
I will build a sleeping cot for everything under the sun
(published 1967)
(translated by Eugene Eoyang)
The gums were numb
On the tongue, the exhalations from a forest grove
Stemming from a dream
As if a call from someone unfamiliar
Assailed the ear
Whereupon I circled the tree three times
Just so I could let out one good belch.
I circled the tree. Circled it a fourth time.
Afterward, Manon and I played that game
Afterward, I chewed on beef jerky
Afterward, I circled the tree
And put the prairie behind me,
Abandoning the strong wind over my head
Dust to dust ashes to ashes
I am a lion from Zanzibar
A place where national parks
Are a throwback to civilization
My brothers, wouldst thou be dozing
A bald eagle is circling very low in the sky
The runaway wetlands are deep in the earth
But those humans are by my side
Along with their guns and their generic winks
A flurry of raging scurrying
Fire
I circle the tree
After a belch slides out from the throat
I bite into that beef jerky
Play that game
And will the humans be satisfied?
My brother and I look at each other
In that sector of the sky, what seems to be both here and not here:
A mass of black cloud.
(published 1971)
(translated by Eugene Eoyang)
a lone
leopard at the edge of the vast grassland
crouched
not knowing why
so many flowers fragrant
so many trees green
the firmament opens
and envelops everything
this leopard
once roared
and stalked
no longer knows what fragrance is in a flower
nor what green is in a tree
not knowing why
crouching a leopard
the stillness of the sky
the forlornness of the forest
the vast grassland
d i s a p p e a r s
(published 1972)
(translated by Eugene Eoyang)
Plopped down on the side of Zhonghua Road
The thirty seats in this teahouse
One next to the other
Unaware how desolate they are
But he is one who knows
At exactly ten o’clock, he reports in
And sits on a hard wooden bench by the side
A cup of strong Longjing tea
That doesn’t quite dispel last night’s carousing
Soy sauce-flavored watermelon seeds, peanuts
Plus two packs of Long Life cigarettes
Yes, he knows
That’s all he will ever get
No! There is still the heroism of youth
That flows from his hoary weather-beaten face
His flitting frown a dagger
One mighty bellow to shout down the dust
He is one who knows loneliness is
Past midnight
The thirty seats in this teahouse
One next to the other …
(published 1977)
(translated by Eugene Eoyang)
THE SPEECH OF STONES—FOR HUMANS
People leave. The room is empty.
There is a slice of lovely silence.
I sit in a corner of the museum
Gently exhaling a breath,
Thinking: Oh, to go home!
For many years a guest in an alien land
Who knows how often I’ve wept to myself?
Musing on the vastness of the world time without end
In a wink … see Yungang enveloped in mist
But I can’t quite make out the scene.
“Long time no see”—My yellow-skinned relatives!
Tonight I will not dream
I will stay awake in your attentive gaze
Your familiar voice lingers in my ears
I say: It’s good to be home
Don’t turn on the lights! Let me leave open
The windows of my heart in the pure pitch-black darkness
With the sheen of silk.
Gradually let me extend a hand out
From the inner layers of my life. Let it out.
Let it knock
At the doors of your houses: Knock knock
Knock knock at each and every house
I knock to bestir my relatives
My long-separated relatives: Wake up!
Wake up! The collected echoes of history
In this solitary shout
I gnash my teeth
And say only this:
“LET ME GO HOME!”
(published 1983)
(translated by Eugene Eoyang)