Spider King
by Akuwuwu
trs. by Wang Ping
1
Spinning silk marks the meaning for a spider’s existence. How much silk does a spider spin throughout its life? Its webs have so many patterns and shapes. They are the mirror image of the cosmos, also the inner design of life. I heard spider’s silk comes from its saliva, mapping its life journey, with bones, blood, meridians. To me, spiders are more like a spider language, writing “Spider Bibles” with their spiderwebs all over the world.
2
Rain and frogs are singing in sync. In dreams a pair of wings take me away from home. We encounter the spider king on our way. It opens its eight black legs, controlling my journey from eight directions. The spider is my destined companion and enemy, but life is meant to transform your enemy to your friend. I need both to be alive, the mythical small frog’s wisdom, and the power of spider king in my dream. Spirits appear in the rainy night, my body is abandoned again.
3
The spider carries its own heavy eggs, spitting soft silk continuously, as it travels to the mythical spider kingdom. It is said only spiders born in the spider kingdom are qualified to become a king. But it met with death on the road, and the spiders lost the abdomen, only head resurrected for wisdom, and tail for silk and reproduction. Through such death and resurrection, the spider became spirit, and was worshiped as such by our ancestors.
4
Last night I was tied up by the spider king. I couldn’t move, speak, or hear the music outside, which was killing me. But the spider king wouldn’t let me die so easily. It wouldn’t carry the unescapable crimes on its own back, because there’s a life inside, larger than me. I’m just an organ for this powerful life. I’m not its heart, or the treasured head. I want to be an artery, flowing in sync with music through the spider web.
5
Big snow in winter. The spider king rolls the snowball towards spring. Every life seems to live in circles, egg, stars, snowballs, womb, breast, bread, head, gun muzzle, tomb. The spider king knows life and death of this world. It knows its circular rhythm, making circular dreams. The spider king dreams of opening its wings, rolling its eggs and human world into the cosmos.
The Sunken Fissure
by Li Yuansheng
trs. by Chen Xiaoyuan
When the outlook suddenly narrows,
you should turn sideways and walk on.
When the ceiling comes down,
bow your head, rather than surrender.
Do not trust the beautiful sky
for it may shoot down thousands of daggers.
Do not dismiss the earth under your feet
because you may be walking on a silvery spring.
This floating world is but a fissure
between heaven and the underworld,
two worlds, two jousting forces.
We endure everything in-between,
witnessing a brief handshake between them
before the eternal struggle.
Tune for a Peaceful Night
by Li Yuansheng
trs. by Chen Xiaoyuan
When you read love, love’s already gone
When you read spring, it’s been the season of fallen leaves
One may read what another wrote
after a cup of tea, sometimes, after this life
I like the self I’ve pruned, while many love, the branches I
trimmed
Till the wonder comes, you catch me up by reading
When you read the silence of a grain of sand
inside which, I am in the midst of its raging sea
My Ancestors
by Yi Sha
trs. by Wang Ping
Ended up on streets
Drinking, whoring, gambling
Who regarded life as muck
Would kill for nothing
Were once innocent as children
Those clans from long ago
Took pride
As assassins
They are my ancestors —
Source of my raging blood
Those who rolled their heads and flourished fans
Have nothing to do with me