The proposition of the raven
in the language of crows every morning dies again
with darkness crows exhibit light green again trampled graves
the forest shows its profile
fat in the flesh of dead pines
but ears are thin and transparent at night hung over all the branches
silence after the death awakens you with a start
only heard in a dead head
repugnant as the thought is the harvest of the storm
head timely warning in the bedrooms a laugh
arrogant as a jailer
bald crow wrapped well in the uniform borrowed from the night even more naked
gilding on the writings of the summer to keep the little hands that slow progress on 'grass tear their fingernails one by one
your textbooks are printed in a dream
go to school in his sleep feathered from head to toe
listen to swim the river water body in a cave dug
whiter light
new to what you can not hear a loud cry, scary
***
in the language of crows every morning dies again
with darkness crows exhibit light green again trampled graves
the forest shows its profile
fat in the flesh of dead pines
but ears are thin and transparent at night hung over all the branches
silence after the death awakens you with a start
only heard in a dead head
repugnant as the thought is the harvest of the storm
head timely warning in the bedrooms a laugh
arrogant as a jailer
bald crow wrapped well in the uniform borrowed from the night even more naked
gilding on the writings of the summer to keep the little hands that slow progress on 'grass tear their fingernails one by one
your textbooks are printed in a dream
go to school in his sleep feathered from head to toe
listen to swim the river water body in a cave dug
whiter light
new to what you can not hear a loud cry, scary
***
Already read
Chinese cemeteries in the pines grow as rspirano
but the wind changes the direction of the quiet day
the plow goes back and forth until the end of the field
lush green book of life
August sowing the seeds of the dead
the night all the stars travel in a well of jade
all summer read a biography
the shade of the pine
is immersed in a chair full of water is carved in a bas-relief
the distant sea is angry alone
bird songs flood the sky hardly sing
read as if I had not read anything
there is only art that shakes a week and make it black
***
The book of birds
in the theater of darkness are larger and paler
of these birds
guts spilled out
a book that he hates himself a couple
wings make a sound card
a hand that controls the flight when it is reached by light is achieved by bone
sky installed in the deep green leaves of reading funeral
seats stars observed
the dead to sit and listen to friendly words that illuminate the death
cruelly nailed to the back the buzz continues to write words
the wind hits the tombstone pears black frozen on top of the branches
carries a book in order to sink into the sea birds blindness
angry tired
make life a script those who have lived long enough
spill seek the ancient gold that they themselves have swallowed
but the ax does not choose any page
after the feathers of each page are stripped hurts the whole sky when we stop to applaud
fall to pieces
***
Harvest
These thorny roofs shine in the yard after threshing
these summer skies that you are exposed to the sun suddenly
blacken the sea shrinks dazzling silver tiles
two trees fall into two opposite directions
famine sown with wheat
of a man's death next year is already obsolete
the sun is broken neck
the pave your eyes and expose the city crowds
***
Neighborhood (1)
death that is cooked in a pot of delicious
near the fireplace in the near
a strain of burning pine quiet cent '
years
summer is always sad as stone walls that feed on climbing vines
but the road through the fire goes into winter
from the fire can be seen
who wash windows one by one livid nights
the shade of pine cut on the sheet outside the window
corrects your skeletons
unnecessarily knocking a green sun burst
stones in the scenario of a bad word breaks into two poems
attests to the mouth of the displaced poet
you seem to grilled fish with
death that is cooked in a pot of delicious
near the fireplace in the near
a strain of burning pine quiet cent '
years
summer is always sad as stone walls that feed on climbing vines
but the road through the fire goes into winter
from the fire can be seen
who wash windows one by one livid nights
the shade of pine cut on the sheet outside the window
corrects your skeletons
unnecessarily knocking a green sun burst
stones in the scenario of a bad word breaks into two poems
attests to the mouth of the displaced poet
you seem to grilled fish with
poem from "Where to stop the sea"-Books Scheiwiller - Playon
Yang Lian is one of the greatest Chinese poets and was nominated for the Nobel prize for literature in 2002. Born in Bern in 1955, officials state-owned Chinese embassy in Switzerland. Two years later the family returned to Beijing, where he attended school, absorbing the parents love for literature and foreign languages. He began writing poetry in 1976, after an intense experience of working in campaigns and long trips in more remote provinces of China, eventually finding work in a publishing house in Beijing. Since 1978 began publication of the independent magazine of poetry Jintian (Today), which reopens the space and inventive of contemporary Chinese poetry, in August of '79, published for the first time works by Yang Lian. His artistic debut takes place within a group of young poets already known in underground China and present in influential journals of politics and literature during the "Democracy Wall Movement-". In 1986, Yang Lian makes a long trip to Europe and Hong Kong, returning from which he founded along with the group of poets, Mang Ke Xincunzhe (Survivors) homonymous magazine. In February 1989 he went to New Zealand, Auckland, where there is also the poet Gu Cheng. Both are following the events of Tiananmen Square and denouncing the Chinese government's choices: Yang Lian begins to exile in various countries. In '91 receives an important foundation of the fellowship as a resident artist of the DAAD Berlin in '93 teaches Chinese language and literature at the University of Sydney and began work on the poem Dahao tingzhi zhichu (Where stops the sea). In 1994 he decided to settle in London, where he currently lives and works. In 1999 he received the International Prize in Italy Flaiano for poetry, Where the sea is calm. In recent years, thanks to a different cultural and ideological climate, Yang Lian has returned several times to China, where his works were published with great relief. Yang Lian has worked in more than 20 countries, has published six collections of poetry, two books of prose and several essays in Chinese that have been or are being translated into several languages \u200b\u200b(including Italian) are a major voices in the literary scene , political and cultural world.
