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Artist HE Yu

何雨 艺术作品

 

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  • Objects 物件
  • Poetry 诗文
  • 剧场及表演 THEATRE WORKS


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      • To S and the Precious One

        I’ve melted all the snows within me

        to warm the grounds of your arrival.

        Between the visible

        and the invisible

        all my fires have dissolved into spring water

        that celebrates your approach.

        .......

        Dear S, all those years

        you held roses over the world’s wounds

        didn’t you see why candles are consumed by flames and heat?

        They only want to be conscious of themselves.

        .......

         

        Pendulum

        The pendulum moves,

        but who decides where it is at any given point in time?

        Is there a strict dichotomy between flexibility and control?

        Is the headless bird a metaphor for transmigration?

        And are the deer, leaping across remote distances,

        messengers for Christmas?

        Or are they here to intensify that feeling of “we’re lost”?

        The poet of pessimism and self-restraint

        has become darker, or more brilliant than reality?

        She recites an ancient mantra:

        “In the absence of any meaningful event,”

        as if nervously waiting for something to occur.

        She feels she roams, but what really keeps roaming is

        the expanding disquiet.

        Is there any still point

        to this turning world

        that turns towards the infinite...... Or turns to nothing?

         

        Awakened

        Standing still,

        Gazing into the fountain and the azure sky

        That are deep under my skin,

        I Feel the roses in my collarbones

         

        For the deep pains and sorrows of the world,

        There is one and only prescription

        Called “awakening”

         

         

        A Drop of Water

        I pretended to be the running water,

        to be the fast rain,

        to be the sea and ocean,

        until one day

        the mirage coughed out spring and all seasons

        coughed out starry nights, coughed out sunny days.
        It dawned on me then

        that I’ve always been

        nothing but

        a mere, true, perfect

        drop of water

        which, in its tiny singularity

        reflects you, reflects us, reflects all.

         

        A Love Poem

         

        The lady

        riding on a white horse

        smells like green grass, smells like spring breeze,

        and on her skin

        roses blossom.

        She carefully removes the thorns from her roses

        she begs with her eyes,

        oh how she’s been looking,

        looking everywhere,

        dying to meet you!

         

         

        A Love Letter to Time

        Time,

        I have so much to confide

        to you,

         

        but it would have to be a love letter

        engraved by my will

        and posted from my Future

         

         

         A Poem About Poems

        It’s not me writing these poems,

        they just arrive at my lips

        like peach blossoms arriving each spring,

        like the ocean falling upon the shore,

        like the games kids invent.

         

        These poems fall upon my body, caress the tips of my fingers,

        they’re just like You

        who arrives in my poems

        like blood returning to the stopped heart.

         

        See? Here You are, over and over,

        throbbing in my poems

        a willful, lovely visitor.

         

        These poems inhabit me

        because of You,

        because You’re meant to be sung and praised through poems

        for they manifest the good in all.

         

        I, A Daughter

        I sit on the sizzling hot button of my Father issue

        Why you, why me?

        I’ve travelled around the galaxy

        seeking a clean slate

        wiped free of you

        I’ve gone through wild woods and over frozen earth

        I’ve trekked to the land where Oedipus

        settled down to hide from himself

        His only answer

        was blindness and stillness

        that’s how he honored his fate

         

        I travelled back and forth

        from my birth to my death

        only to suffer the same honor

        as Oedipus

        Now I harbor my grief and yours

        and I pray to you

        that we may be permitted to sing ourselves

        and celebrate life’s breath and its hazards

         

         

        The Star

        We come from nowhere

        but compounded dust

        Prior to this

        we slipped through God’s fingers

        to erupt, dance, and roar.

        I’ve slain myself billions of times

        and from the infinite oscillation,

        I’ve salvaged, re-folded and multiplied myself with E = mc^2

         

         

        You might have seen me

        or maybe not

        my self-decaying burning and blazing

        is my longing and my fate.

        If you ever gaze on me,

        please,

        fall into the universe of my light.

         

         The Gap of Time 

        We’ve walked on the same fields and lawns

        been the same buildings and dorms—

        between you and me

        there’s merely a gap of time

        like in a slowed down film’s eyeblink

        I want you to see this before I leave

        so you can arrive faster

        at your true self

        heart-broken and heart-healed

        No drugs to help you work it out, just yourself

        and the hunger of the void that turns and rebounds

        from whatever’s lost, whatever’s found

         

        There’s a chance that in you

        something will grow

        that turns into a spirit that you never were—

        my you become my silent pal of glancing light

         

         

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