Poems by Chris Song
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pomegranate
how many flames wrapped in this riddle? tongue drunk in agate flesh, each and every one a bitterness in white crystal seeking your deep-seated seeds. you give me drops of sweet and leave unripe slices will all a face’s patience be kissed up by a to-and-fro tongue tip? I remember you as a literature lover, blushing like a bud’s first burst, ripening at changing seasons, uninterruptible by worry, each tight against each, piled up pent up veins, who says calm isn’t a seclusion, inducing your flames? at times reality is like a storm, branches smacking anxious windows, an unirritated you always under silent lights quietly counting out each day, my patience time and again resolving the riddle of your flame (Translated from Chinese by Lucas Klein) a phantom hand in memory of a poet names remain mythic lines sneak into the keyhole an index finger draws out sparks and sickles a page of prose words read to pupils whistling through a dark tunnel over the chessboard a pawn loses his arm a nib stumbles through a manuscript written by a phantom hand NOTE Both poems have previously appeared in Mirror Me (Flying Island Books, 2017). |
Chris Song is a poet, translator and editor based in Hong Kong. He has published four collections of poetry and many volumes of poetry in translation. Song received an “Extraordinary Mention” at Italy’s UNESCO-recognized Nosside World Poetry Prize 2013. In 2019, he won the 5th Haizi Poetry Award in China. Song is now Executive Director of the Hong Kong International Poetry Nights and Editor-in-Chief of Voice & Verse poetry magazine.
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