Luye路也(pen name for dongmei lu)
Poet, novelist, short story writer, and essayist Luye is the author of numerous books and recipient of many literary honors; most recently she was awarded the 2005 Award For Chinese Youth Poets granted by Poetry Periodical(shi kan) and the Chinese Writers Association, China. She is Lecturer of Literature at Jinan University. "Two Butterflies" and "Rapeseed Fields" are from her 2006 collection, Southern China Through a Northerner's Eyes," Writers Publishing House, Beijing.
Susan Aizenberg
English Department
Creative Writing Program
Creighton University
2500 California
Omaha, NE 68178
susanaizenberg@creighton.edu
402-968-2600 (cell)
LuYe
Two Butterflies
A yellow butterfly and a white butterfly, prince and princess.
They fly from their blue Morning Flower apartments.
They fly over the field and a pond where lotus blossoms float.
They fly over reeds growing on the banks of the Yangtze River.
They fly over the dirt road and along the bean fields
beside the dirt road and come to the banks of the Yangtze River.
Beautiful Southern butterflies, elegant scholars thinking
elegant thoughts. Bourgeoisie of the island.
They wear thin silk shirts.
Softly, in their soft language they vow undying love.
They sing local opera.
They recite a poem entitled
"The Butterfly Loves the Flower."
One is Hon Fanguy, Romeo, the other LiXiangun, Juliet.
The butterflies of my northern hometown,
Shan Dong, are humble.
They don't know how to sing opera.
They don't know how to write poems.
Followers of Confucius they recite the Analects.
These two flutter around us, whispering.
I ask a local man, can you translate this Southern
dialect into Mandarin? Though I try and try, (break, more)
Aizenberg/Two Butterflies/2
.
it seems I understand only one sentence.
Look -- the white butterfly says to the yellow one,
that Northern woman looks so old-fashioned.
from LuYe's collection, Southern China Through A Northerner's Eyes
Susan Aizenberg
English Department
Creative Writing Program
Creighton University
2500 California
Omaha, NE 68178
susanaizenberg@creighton.edu
402-968-2600
LuYe
Rapeseed Fields
-- The Island In The Center Of The Yangtze River
Everywhere on the island the Rapeseed flowers
are in blossom. We should christen them Official Flower
Of The Island In The Center Of The Yangtze River.
It's April, and now they begin to understand the world.
Over and over they say love and love. Even their
eyelashes are golden. They speak in bright voices.
They make the sky dizzy. They cover the fields,
an enormous, outstretched coat, plain cloth a country
girl has painted with yellow flowers, its patterns
wavering shapes marchers form in a Flower Day
parade, blooms plaited into their hair, bouquets
in their hands. Here, the world's a floodlit stage, singers
trilling classic opera. Soon it will darken as the show
ends, the audience applauding, and the curtain lowers.
Then the little flowers will bear the oil rich seeds
held deep in the vaults of their bodies and wait to be taken
away, new brides awaiting their husbands. When we
walk to the end of the yellow fields at the banks of the Yangtze
River, the strong wind makes me suddenly lonely. Can
so many Rapeseed flowers understand my northern accent?
(see next page)
Aizenberg "Rapeseed Fields"/2
from LuYe's collection, Southern China Through A Northerner's Eyes
Sample poems by Luye:
1.
Spoiled
You are the river,
I am the island.
My yellow flowers, the flowers of rapeseed,
are blooming
in your warm hands.
I picked up a reed
I dipped it in your current, my rich color-ink.
The love was written over and over
on your body and at my feet
during one thousand and one nights.
I am waiting for a dragonfly
Who lost his direction on my little sweet land
and crashes its wings at my end.
The river spoiled the island,
You spoiled me in your soft hand.
My heart shared the same shape with the island,
they both were like plums in the rain.
Your breast was a thousand miles wide,
Your waves patted my bank
The signs of many kisses
were left on my dam.
Your boat carried me a morning sun,
It was the largest the red diamond
that you found for me before the dawn.
You came to me from everywhere
with an voice from ancient time.
You split your midstream
because of my childish stubbornness.
Your love ran to me
like the water flowing down hill
without regret.
The ants cramp into the flower’s heart;
The fence was tore apart;
The pumpkin was falling on the ground;
And the roof put on its wet white gown.
From the spring and summer,
to the fall and winter,
Your thoughts of me are always around.
2.
Blooming Daisies Everywhere
Scattering everywhere in my island,
the blooming daisies
like my sweet nieces
laughing in my back yard.
They all look after me and with common faces.
They also share my warm and kind thoughts.
On the land of old Chinese,
they were born and grow.
Above their golden heads,
soft breezes are muttering
among themselves.
Under their green feet
warm earth is breathing
with a smell of health.
They love the blue sky,
they love the yellow earth,
they love the buzzes of bees,
and they love the flowing water in the ditches.
They also love their short lives,
as well as the summer which
has visited this ancient land
thousands of times.
Specially, they love this thin path,
which leads you and me to our new house.
They held hands by hands,
they followed one by one.
They were nodding to you and me
sending their childish greetings
all the way to the gate of our fences.
At this moment,
If you could pick up a daisy and put it in my hair,
I would be the queen under her golden crown of happiness.