WINTER DAY
A wild duck cries on a winter lake
alone and meek
I sit on a cold stone bench
looking at the water, alone and meek
Had we known we were two lambs
on our way to the slaughter
I’d weep, you’d also weep
in this floating world
—translated from the Chinese by Fiona Sze-Lorrain (web)
—from Rattle #36, Winter 2011
Buddhist Poets
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Yang Jian worked as a factory laborer for thirteen years and began writing poetry during the mid-’80s. Considered today as one of the greatest Chinese living poets, Yang Jian also paints with ink and brush. A practicing Buddhist, he lives in recluse in Ma’anshan, Anhui.
