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Winter 2007
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CHEN I-chih 陳義芝
SEASIDE WASTELAND
海濱荒地*
Translated by John J. S. BALCOM 陶忘機
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Once again I see father’s hoe rising and falling in the field
The sun is almost directly overhead, he hoes with vigor
From her basket, mother takes out an earthenware bowl of
warm porridge
And places it in the shade of some small trees
It’s a scene from about forty years ago
The dry ground skirted the windbreak
The windbreak followed the curve of the shore
In those days, there were fierce sun-blinding waves on the sea
So unlike this stretch of cold, greasy soup before me now
In those days, father looked like a sunflower in his straw hat
We all wore such hats every day
Head against wind and waves
as if unearthing the bones of the dead
Father hoed with vigor, and we were the
Scarecrows playing in the fields
Sometimes we became the sparrows that
Flew into the shade of the windbreak
Deep within the wood where the wind blew a small temple stood
Wispy clouds float on the horizon, the cicadas are deafening
I squat atop the ruined granary
Searching for my scarecrows in all directions
Memories rising and falling at the seaside
That straw hat like a sunflower in a wasteland
With his hoe, father raised a tomb for his sweat
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From Chen I-chih’s 陳義芝 Chen I-Chih shih-chi shih-hsuan 《陳義芝‧世紀詩選》[Chen I-chih, collected poems of the century], Taipei: Elite Publishing, 2000, 2-3.
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