Yin is endlessly perspicacious, endlessly compelling… She brings to Canadian poetry a sense of classicism and aestheticism and minimalism, all nicely mixed up with sensuality.
—George Elliott Clarke, 7th Parliamentary Poet Laureate of Canada
Anna Yin’s poems give us beauty in all its delicacy and its strength—a full glowing presence that sometimes, mysteriously, is just a fleeting hint, a dance of shadows….This is an original poet following her intuition ever deeper into the secrets of emotion and reality.
—A. F. Moritz, 6th Toronto Poet Laureate, 2009 Griffin Poetry Prize Winner.
If I were a bird, I would sing with my hoarse voice Of this storm-buffeted land, Of this grief-turbulent river, Of these unceasing-raging winds, And of the touchingly-tender forest dawn ——Then I would die, even my feathers would decay in the soil. Why are my eyes always with tears? Because I love this land deeply…
請在我頭髮上留下一吻， 我就不用戴虛榮的桂冠。 請在我手上留下一吻， 我就不用戴璀璨的指環。
請在我眼睛上輕輕一吻， 吻乾我眼中寂寞的清淚。 請在我胸上輕輕地一吻， 吻消我胸中不平的塊壘。
在這寒星顫抖的深夜， 我渴盼你那暖暖的一吻。 能蓋在我這冰涼的嘴唇， 使我不再唱那人世的愁悶。
Prayer Yu Guang Zhong
Please place a kiss on my hair so I needn’t wear a vain crown. Please press a kiss in my hand so I needn’t wear a shiny ring.
Please gently kiss my eyes, kiss away lonely tears. Please tenderly kiss my chest, kiss it free of knots.
On chilly starry midnights, I long for your warm kiss. It should cover my cold lips, so I won’t sing of worldly gloom.
All the ending has been written All the tears have already flowed Yet suddenly I forget how it began In that ancient summer which no longer returns No matter how hard I search, the youthful self only passes by like a cloud’s shadow Pale and vague, your smiling face gradually disappears in the sunset behind hills I then open the faded title page by fate’s binding botched. Tears in my eyes, I read it again and again- having to admit Youth is such a swift book
The Lantern Festival Night – to the tune of Green Jade Table
by Xin Qiji
The east wind adorns a thousand trees with flowers at night, and blows down stars in showers. Fine steeds and carved carriages spread scent along the way, Phoenix-cooing flutes resounding, Jade-urn-shaped lanterns revolving, Fish and dragons dance all night.
In a gold-thread dress, butterfly-light and willow-white, Giggling, she goes with floating faint fragrance. But in the crowd once and again I look for her in vain. When all at once I turn my head, I find her there where lantern light is dimly shed.
It’s still there
for me to
Looming from my childhood
在镜前 精心为自己 打一个 牢牢的圈套
乖乖 让文明多毛的手 牵着脖子走
Before the mirror he carefully makes himself a tight knot
Give it back to me Please give me back the door without lock Even if there is no longer a room, please give it back to me Give it back to me Please give me back the rooster that awakens me in the morning Even if you have eaten it, give me the bones back please Please give me back the shepherd’s song halfway up the hill Even if you have recorded it on tape Give me back the flute please Give it back to me Please give me back the space of love Even if you have polluted it Please give me back the right of environmental protection Give me back the relationship with my brothers and sisters Even if it lasts no more than half a year, give it back, please Give me back the whole of the globe Even if it has been divided into Thousands of nations Hundred thousands of villages Please give it back to me