Aiden Heung is a native Chinese poet currently working and living in Shanghai. He writes about the city of Shanghai and people who live in it. He is a graduate of Tongji University.
Silence In The Morning
The building is closed;
The cafe we used to go to is closed;
7-11 is closed, nobody goes there anymore;
No bells will toll,
the chapel has been quiet for a century.
Only a woman with sand-colored hair walks by,
slowly, slowly,
and wipes her eyes with a handkerchief.
We are outside in the yard, trying to figure out
the scorching silence in this big city.
On the walls that surround us,
red characters are minacious and ready to lash us away
– red characters crying destruction.
~
Car Crash On Fuxing Road
I came out from the subway,
a sense of loss
began
to surround me.
People gathered around the exit,
did not give way.
I hardly knew them,
I did not understand
their dialect.
But some words, like birds
escaping
a horrifying storm,
came to me
with the sound
of death.
It was eight in the evening,
rodents began to crawl on the street;
Cameras perched on a branch
and blinked.
Beneath,
A police car
parked like a corpse.
~
无题
一湾三泉五重楼，
半水半月半江山。
吴歌声起秋深处，
一片归心待月圆
Untitled
Three brooks merge into the distant bay, and off it
some buildings come into view;
The moon half in her veil spills down her silvery light,
half the bay is lit, and half the world too.
In Autumn’s deep grove, a song is heard,
a song in its local Wu dialect,
and my heart that longs for a home, though suddenly,
remembers that it’s almost time for another full moon.