by Cela Xiè
影 I am a man man; in the mirror, my nose
实 is a razor held to the air, for to kill
彡 is a virtue; I am a man man, my beard
虚 hides my throat, for I am invulnerable;
血 I am vulnerable, so I dream of mass-
非 acre, masses, acres of roses, roses
绿 or wounds — no, that’s girly — I am a man man,
纸 I own no scissors, only rocks; I never
包 gaze at the moon — I never use em-dashes —
住 or rather, were I a man, I would never
火 give so much thought to my manhood; I would be.
*
Translation:
田间施力
影实彡虚。血非绿。纸包住火。
I Use My Strength in the Fields
The shadow is substantial, while ornament is hollow. My blood is not green. Paper covers fire.
Note:
The character for 男 “man” is made up of 田 “field” above 力 “strength.”
He raised his glass and turned it upside-down.
This is your purity, he said,
this is your perfectionism—
The glass was empty; it left no mark on the tablecloth.
— Louise Glück, from “The Sword in the Stone”
Cela Xiè is currently an MFA candidate at North Carolina State University. His poem “莫生 Only Absence, No Time” won the AWP Intro Journals Prize and is forthcoming from Mid-American Review. His poetry has been published by Sine Theta Magazine, Tab Journal, and VOLT Magazine. He has a receipt book of poems, Before I Spoke to Myself, published by betweenthehighway press.
Hawaii Pacific Review 