The Changing Room: Selected poetry of Zhai Yongming

The Changing Room

86 肌 更衣室 肌
肮 87 tHe CHAnGInG RooM Four corners passing time inside four curtained corners flowing dresses slit so high their fish tails swishing side to side My changing room tier after tier of little dolls ensconced their fragile pupils violently fasten onto the goldfish bowl catch me strolling by amethyst crystals embrace the draft another kind of skin Ever-changing old-fashioned dress, how it guards my chilly hauteur I’m thin as kindling In these four corners hungry women gorge on soiled colors gulping down gallons of liquid a woman’s full lunar eclipse Let me lift my head (Time and tide ravage these delicate brows) The changing room gives me something has us form a line as if we were lining up to enter Heaven Never-changing red dress a friend slips it onto me blood red from head to toe costumed for a mad dance My friend’s black pleated blouse conceals wracking sobs behind stylized tears and it’s fine needles, bandages, a few pieces of jade like talismans blessed with maternal love attached to the superstitious ones who never go out of style It’s all right like a horde of spiders we cover the printed curtains we have our uses in the changing room dressing up our bold plans 88 在我小小的更衣室 我变换性别、骨头和发根 沉闷的嗓音在念儿童读物: “一个冬天的早晨、一场火灾…… 奔跑的乙炔扑打风 雪地上的红色伤了我” 我变来变去的注目礼 被万事万物的依旧吃掉 同学们威胁我 那些目光 像一张张嘴的尖叫 在我小小的更衣室 我变换身材、手势和憨笑 听见一个男人在念儿童读物: “揪心的学校 揪心的 回家的路 母亲站在面前 像橱窗内的礼物……” 换来换去的黑色布鞋 被蚂蚁般增长的时间撑破 午睡时的不眠 换来 一夜间的生长 同学们 看着我 他们破坏性的微笑 让我找不到自救 在我小小的更衣室里 我变换眼波、汗毛和体味 黑暗中有人在念儿童读物: “哭泣的急救室 火焰的恐惧 植入皮肤 还有收音机的嘶叫 浸进耳膜 这脆若薄纸的幼年……” 变和不变的世界找到我 安慰我 青青校树的生长比我快得多 同学们 围着我 89 in my little changing room i change my gender, bones and hair, down to the roots a listless voice reads a children’s book: “one winter morning, there was a great fire . . . acetylene racing and slapping the wind Scarlet on the snow wounded me” my quicksilver ritualistic eye contact has been eaten by the habitual universe my classmates threaten me their piercing looks like screeches from each of their mouths in my little changing room i alter my figure, my gestures, my vacuous smile and listen to a man reading a children’s book: “the anxious school the anxious road home my mother standing before me like a gift in a shop window . . .” Black cloth shoes changed in and out of burst open by the long ant trail of time Sleeplessness at siesta exchanged for a night of growth my classmates watch me their broken smiles blocking my exits in my little changing room i alter my come-hither glances, downy skin and scent someone is reading a children’s book in the dark: “the weeping emergency room the terror of flames takes root in my skin the shriek of the radio invades my ears the paper-thin years of childhood . . .” the changing yet unchanging world finds me comforts me Verdant trees at school grow much faster than i do my classmates surround me 90 他们全体的眼睛 比我的眼睛 大 比我清 以及灿烂 在我小小的更衣室 我变换发式、内衣和血型 我的高音清脆 念着儿童读物: “伤心的苹果 偷走的童年脸颊 人丛里有一个声音喊 : 母亲啊母亲 离别就在眼前” 搬来搬去的家像季节变换 转眼就到了典卖“过去”的日子 同学们离开语法 和捣乱的金属牙套 91 altogether their eyes are larger clearer brighter than mine in my little changing room i change my hairstyle, lingerie, and blood type my voice is high and clear i read a children’s story: “the sorrowful apple the stolen cheeks of childhood a voice shouts out from the crowd: mother, o mother it’s time to say goodbye” the constantly moving household changes like the seasons every time you turn around it’s time to mortgage “the past” my classmates abandon grammar sowing disorder with sets of metal teeth Four walls and corners passing time in four curtained corners all this stuff fashioned from wasted grief Gazing at my naked back stiff waist and the gaping mouths of little dolls I might float up with the bubbles in that four-cornered fish bowl and watch the married people within the four walls of this house the cookery and small talk Seeing even farther under the eaves of these four-sided courtyards searching all night for that frightening lamplight and a sense of human figures behind the windows My little changing room When depression comes to call this is where I sleep When people call me “clumsy” this is where I sleep these gray-green clothes these gentle gray-green eyes these silken gray-green substances annoint my body heavy clouds of vapor cut me off from the outside world this sleep from another era so distant and deep ...