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Hongri Yuan

Each Rock is A Potala Palace

The sunshine is mellow wine
and there are golden palaces inside the sun.
Where a giant is its master,
he told me that I was his shadow on the earth.

I will still be much greater, like a mountain,
each rock is a Potala Palace.
And the epics I chanted came from billions of years ago,
there are huge number sweet homes beyond the Milky way.

 

每一块石头都是布达拉宫

阳光是芳醇的酒
而太阳的体内是黄金的王宫
一个巨人是那儿的主人
他告诉我  我是他在人间的影子

我还会更加巨大 像一座山
每一块石头都是布达拉宫
而我吟唱的史诗 来自亿万年前
在银河系之外 有巨多甜蜜的家园

Translated by Yuanbing Zhang

Hongri Yuan (b. 1962) is a Chinese mystic poet and philosopher. His poetry has been widely published in the UK, USA, India, New Zealand, Canada and Nigeria. He has authored a number books including Platinum City, The City of Gold, Golden Paradise, Gold Sun and Golden Giant.

 

About the Translator

Yuanbing Zhang (b. 1974), who is a Chinese poet and translator, works in a Middle School, Yanzhou District , Jining City, Shandong Province, China. He can be contacted through his email – 3112362909@qq.com.

earth shadow

Amlanjyoti Goswami

Shapeshifting

The old ones have left
And the young ones hide behind shadow

We wait, only so long as patience demands
And slowly make our way

Into the woods. There lies danger and further on,
The disappearance of self

Into something sublime, resembling a wet sun
Rain that clings to emptiness

Time that longs for no rainbow
Streams that flow to no clock.

But before we go in, we pause
We know we won’t come back

The same way we went
We would change our stripes

And we ask ourselves, one more time
To no answer

If we are ready this time, to become lion and camel and buffalo
And leave our earthly robes behind.

Amlanjyoti Goswami’s poetry has been published around the world, in India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Hong Kong, the UK, USA, South Africa, Kenya and Germany, and in the anthologies, 40 under 40: An Anthology of Post Globalisation Poetry (Poetrywala), A Change of Climate (Manchester Metropolitan University, Environmental Justice Foundation and the University of Edinburgh) and the Sahitya Akademi anthology of Modern English Poetry. His recent collection of poems, River Wedding, has just been published by Poetrywala and has been widely reviewed. His poems have also appeared on street walls of Christchurch, exhibitions in Johannesburg and buses in Philadelphia. He has read in various places, including in New York, Delhi and Boston. He grew up in Guwahati, Assam and lives in Delhi.

earth shadow

Aziz Dixon

Cofiwch Dryweryn
(Remember Tryweryn!)There are places in Wales
I do not go, do not watch
for bubbles to surface
from the nation’s soul,

do not sit in this bright curlew’d field
nor look for Hedd Wyn
wording peace in the train he took
to the front, single track

that shows its bones in drought,
skeleton in a drained desert,
graves smothered in concrete guilt
while the waters parted.

I do not look behind the Wild Wales
Adventure Centre for Ceridwen’s
salmon-otter sparrow-hawk
corn-hen to shape-shift

fifty-six years of water. Do not
turn off the taps in Liverpool,
desalinate the Mersey,
apologise, do not

forget this fulcrum of the hen iaith,
lily white on dragon red
on the road to Llanrhystud.
Cofiwch Dryweryn!

After RS Thomas, Reservoirs
Hen iaiath: old language, ie Welsh

Aziz Dixon draws on Pennine and Welsh landscapes and his sufi experience. His work featured in Best of Bolton, November 2017 and Burnley Creative, September 2019. His first pamphlet is forthcoming with Maytree Press.

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Dave Martin

Asparagus Season

Spear heads thrust through seaweed shield wall,
like the sarissas of a Greek phalanx,
only for my blade to scythe down them all.
From St George’s Day the slaughter will last,
feasting until summer solstice has passed.
Then a truce is agreed, spears grow to fronds.
Are my stakes around you support or bonds?


Wild new enemies sail in on the wing,
beetles deadly than the hoplites of Ajax.
Black helms, yellow shields, it’s death they bring.
They would strip you, deprive you of light,
rob me of culinary delight.
Seeming foe yet your friend I watch them come;
snuff out their lives between finger and thumb.


And on the day when the old year is dead,
I will lay fresh tribute upon your bed.

 

 

Dave Martin’s poems have been published in South poetry magazine, the New European Newspaper and in the match day programmes of Torquay United FC. He lives in Dorset and writes poetry and history.

 

earth shadow