给有关的英文杂志或告诉我的地址BIOGRAPHICAL SUMMARY OF THE AUTHER

ZHANG Yansong（1961- ），a distinguished Chinese contemporary poet, native of Hefei city, graduated from Hefei Industrial University. He has participated in the 18th “Young Poets’ Workshop” and published his selected poems in Poetry, Stars, Poetry Tide, The Chinese Poets, etc. His publications include 二The woodcarving Nose and Ten-Year Lamp: 32 Contemporary Chinese Poets (2003). 

 
CRUST

You make me stay at the crossroad
To warm up slowly
From padded jacket I pull out my hands
To hold your hands stretching softly

Warmly holding your hands
I feel even the bone firm within flesh
Bone grasps bone  
A warm handclasp outside

Behind a wall off way
I hold you stirring in my arms
Rigid teeth resist your soft tongue
Ice-cold I feel all over

I hold you and warm up slowly
But feel you cold all over
While I warm up

I resist the temptation of you
Fingers crossing your forest of hair
Let me warm up slowly
We both keep silence patiently

Nov. 28, 1989

LAVABO-MANIA

for curiosity
I fumble the fresh trace screwing
still throbbing on the trunk
and the rope as well

I terrify myself in the mirror at home
like a man of straw

switch on the tap
sweep off sounds
I wash my hands white
dry and clean within the towel

I tuck myself in at night
and again fumble the rough rope
I slip into the lavatory
dipping my hands so long
in the swirling sink 
as to be a bit bloated

I’d wash my hands clean
wash away none of the correlative rope

May 18, 1991

DINING

I am having a dinner at your table

I taste a trace of irritation as a pig
rubs a small stump
The itch is left for the tree
whereas roast fire for the dinner 

My teeth chew a trace of blade
I feel a bit cold within my body
In tremble
I conceal your wild action

I bend my head over dinner
No more could I swallow down
Your rigid knees against pig-necks in the morning
stick in my throat

Feb. 14. 1992

TO RUN INTO DEBT

I have run into debt
from the earliest day when I was born
I pay for it with my submission
so obedient as to be disgusted
I have no choice but to crouch
on the ground
so long as to be disgusted as well
 
till my death
While checking my memento
You discover my last remaining warmth
by lifting up my bedding

Let the warmth go with cold wind
with its last glimpse at my lady
Thus cherish the warmth

Yearn for the warmth at midnight
Whenever there is knocking at the door
It promptly turns as cold as death 
 
March 11, 2001

EXPIRED

presuming none find out
you are roving from one city to another
with an expired ID card in hand
as if barely an invalid citizen

at a bistro along the street
with a mouth lolling into a bowl of noodle
you keep a dining habit of decades
and further identify
your reflection in broth
wrinkles on face concealing the unknown

the broth ripples in cross-questions, look!
a smile ten years ago was foreign to you 
today roving out of the ID card
your stern face absolutely strange

Feb. 27, 2002