Description

Pains is renowned writer, publisher and editor Zhao Lihong's newest collection of Chinese poetry in translation—a thematically interlinked meditation on the human body, aging, and the complexities of freedom.

In this collection of fifty-one poems, Zhao pulls in his focus and examines the universal in constrained microcosmic units of abstraction. The poet utilizes his decades of influence to pull ahead as a preeminent representative of contemporary Chinese poetry in all of its simplicity, and proves that limitation in itself may be a blessing.

Sample poetry from Pains:

"When did it happen:
black becoming white?
White as smoke ash, white as surviving snow,
white and rough and vacuous
as a sigh that cuts through a glacier.

Those silken threads
are still atop my head
thinning by the day.
When the wind blows, it still levitates.
The wind says, your earth still lives,
my breath cannot break you."

Pains (Chinese Poems)

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Paperback / softback by Zhao Lihong , Karmia Chan Olutade

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Short Description:

Pains is renowned writer, publisher and editor Zhao Lihong's newest collection of Chinese poetry in translation—a thematically interlinked meditation on... Read more

    Publisher: Shanghai Press
    Publication Date: 18/04/2017
    ISBN13: 9781602202603, 978-1602202603
    ISBN10: 1602202605

    Number of Pages: 112

    Fiction , Poetry

    Description

    Pains is renowned writer, publisher and editor Zhao Lihong's newest collection of Chinese poetry in translation—a thematically interlinked meditation on the human body, aging, and the complexities of freedom.

    In this collection of fifty-one poems, Zhao pulls in his focus and examines the universal in constrained microcosmic units of abstraction. The poet utilizes his decades of influence to pull ahead as a preeminent representative of contemporary Chinese poetry in all of its simplicity, and proves that limitation in itself may be a blessing.

    Sample poetry from Pains:

    "When did it happen:
    black becoming white?
    White as smoke ash, white as surviving snow,
    white and rough and vacuous
    as a sigh that cuts through a glacier.

    Those silken threads
    are still atop my head
    thinning by the day.
    When the wind blows, it still levitates.
    The wind says, your earth still lives,
    my breath cannot break you."

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