Platinum City

By  Chinese Poet Hongri Yuan

Translated by Manu Mangattu

Assistant Professor, Department of English

St George College Aruvithura, Indiaa

manumangattu@gmail.com

www.mutemelodist.com

Ah! Of iridescent gems of time

The heavenly road you paved light！

In a kingdom of stars,

I found my home.

In the golden cities,

I opened the gates of the city to the sun,

To behold the godly giants.

At the royal palace of the jewel

I read of prehistoric wonderful poems

The enormous, gorgeous ancient books.

Carved with the golden words 

The wondrous strange mystery tales,

Made my eyes drunken.

I walked into the full new universes,

And saw the holy kingdoms:

Even before the earth was born

The erstwhile home of human history.

Across Time and Space in crystalline glitter

Stands this moment a platinum city –

The spaceships drifting leisurely,

Like the birds, resplendent in variegated hues.

In the crystal garden I saw

A crowd of youthful giants,

Their eyes were bright and glittering

In the aura of the body sparkle..

They sang happy songs

They danced a wonderful dance

Lanky boys and girls in pairs

As if to celebrate the splendid carnival.

I saw a circular edifice

High above the city.

Giving out white-bright lightnings.

Raised ground to fly into the quiet space.

A frame of platinum edifice

Creating a beautiful pattern.

The whole city is a circle

Arranged into a fine structure.​

Into a bright hall I went.

A strange instrument there I saw.

A huge screen hanging on the wall,

Displaying a golden space​.

Like bits of colourful crystal gemstones!

Resplendent with variegated colours of the city!

Those strange and beautiful high-rise buildings

A sight better than the myth of the world.

I saw lines of strange letters.

On one side of the screen flashed swiftly

Numerous young and strong giants

An effort to concentrate on the changing images.

Their look is quiet and peaceful.

The learned flame flashes in their eyes.

In a flash of clothes

The next is a whole.

Their stature, unusually tall.

Each one is well-nigh seven meters high.

Both men and women look dignified

Almost no age difference apparent.

Their skin is white as snow

With a faint flashy shine

Bright eyes are as naive as an infant’s

Also kindled with a strange flame.

They manipulate the magic of the instrument.

The pictures of the changing space.

Their language is artless and plane.

As the bell is generally pleasant.

As I survey the length and breadth of the bright hall

I feel a powerful energy

Body and mind suffused with bliss and delight.

As if I too am a giant.​

I seem to understand their language.

They are exploring the mysteries of the universe.

The cities on a lot of planets

Peopled with their countless partners.

Their mind they use to manipulate the instrument

Also can to transfer data be used

Even thousands of miles apart

Also to talk free to the heart.

Many lines of text on the screen

Is but a message from afar.

The whole universe is their home.

They build cities in space.

They use the spaceships 

To transport you to far-distant other spaces.

Into a lightning, a moment, and you

Vanish into thin air, without a trace.

I feel a new civilization.

They have magical eyes.

They seem to be able to see the future

And can enter diverse time-spaces.

Men and women are holy and loving

Superior to our world's so-called love

They don't seem to understand ageing

Neither do they know about war.

Time seems not to exist

Science is jut a wonderful art

Their happiness comes from the creation of

A universe full of divine love.

I saw a young giant

Opening the door of a platinum 

A round, magnificent hall

Packed with rows of giant s of men and women.​

I saw a crystal stage.

Gyrating at the center of the hall.

Where a dignified and beautiful girl

Was playing a huge musical instrument.

A bunch of golden rays,

Shifting with all kinds of brilliant graphics

A mysterious and beautiful music

Like the Dragon leisurely crowing.

Thence I saw an enormous giant

Jump out of the remarkable dance onto the stage.

His hands held a huge ball

Which flashed with many colourful drawing .

I saw a group of young girls

Wearing a kind of white dresses

They seemed to fly lightly

Like the giant cranes.

The huge circular hall was resplendent

With clear, transparent decoration.

Like a bizarre gem of a full set，

Scintillating brilliantly in the light.

I saw a young singer

About the golden flame

The sound was strange and striking

Like singing , like chanting too.

Their music is at once mysterious and blissful

That shift randomly like the lightning

As if many planets of the universe

Shining bright and light​ in space.

The crystal city, aloft in space

Looks resplendent, magnificent

Countless wonderful golden flowers

Bloom and blush in that flawless space.

I saw an image of a transparent smiling face,

As if it were a colourful garden

The sky shed the golden light 

And turned it into a city of gold​.

I strode out of the circular hall

Came to a wide street with a smooth

Pavement covered with precious stones

And in line with the platinum edifice.

There are no terrestrial trees here,

But they are in full bloom with a lot of exotic flowers.

Sparkling with rich incense,

Shaping a garden at the center of the street.

Some strange flowers were there.

The branches as transparent crystal

Flashing all kinds of brilliant colours;

And bunches of round golden fruit​.

I saw a huge statue.

It was like a spaceship.

Clustered around by shining stars,

High above the centre of the street.

I saw the column of a dazzling fountain

In a huge circle in the square;

The elegantly modelled statues

Portraying the holy giants​.

The soaring magnificent edifices

Ran round the circle square.

There were some garden villas

There was a platinum steeple.

I saw a wide river

Girdling this huge city

The bottom flashed with transparent gold dust,

Amidst which were scattered brilliant gems.

The planning of tall trees on shore

And a long crystal corridor

A big multi-coloured bird

Three five one group floated on the surface of the water.

I saw a vast forest

The swaying tree, a tree of gold

The trees with towering spires

And as some platinum Pavilion​.

I saw some giants along the walk,

Some male and female bodybuilders.

At the water's brink or in the forest

Like birds carefree and relaxed.

The wonderful space was as bright as crystal

Embraced this platinum city;

A giant, white and bright ball

Flashing boundless light into the air​.

It resembled the huge suns

And like the man-made planets

The whole city was shining too,

Weaving a rare breed of magic​.

A strange speeding train circled

About the city back and forth;

There seemed to be a kind of track in the sky

Like a shiny silver curve​.

They seated body white buildings 

As if it was a dreamlike maze

This huge city was unusually quiet,

Could not even hear the sound of the wind​.

I bade goodbye to the platinum city.

Near a golden space

Stands another city here

A huge city of gold​.

The building here is also huge.

But it's another beautiful shape.

The whole city is glittering

Golden edifice as beautiful as sculpture.

Here there live some other giants.

As if from another nation

They have boundless wisdom.

Like a golden, holy civilization.

3.3. 1998

BioYuan Hongri (born 1962) is a renowned Chinese mystic, poet, and philosopher. His work has been published in the UK, USA, India, New Zealand, Canada, and Nigeria; his poems have appeared in Poet's Espresso Review, Orbis, Tipton Poetry Journal, Harbinger Asylum, The Stray Branch, Acumen, Pinyon Review, Taj Mahal Review, Madswirl, Shot Glass Journal, Amethyst Review, The Poetry Village, and other e-zines, anthologies, and journals. His best known works are Platinum City and Golden Giant. His works explore themes of prehistoric and future civilization.

Phone:+86 15263747339  Email:3112362909@qq.com

Address:No.18 middle school Yanzhou District ,Jining City, Shandong Province, China

白金城市

远红日

时间的五彩宝石啊

你铺成了光芒的天路

在一座星辰的王国

我找到了自己的家园

我打开一座座太阳的城门

在一座座黄金的城市

见到了一个个神圣的巨人

在那宝石镶嵌的皇宫

阅读了史前奇妙的诗篇

一部部古奥华丽的巨书

镌雕着黄金的词语

一篇篇玄奇美妙的故事

迷醉了我的双眼

我走进了一个个崭新的宇宙

看到了一座座圣洁的王国

在地球还没有诞生之前

曾经是人类的史前的家园

 

时空的水晶啊光芒闪耀

一座白金的城市矗立眼前

一只只飞船悠悠飘过

像一只只巨鸟五光十色

 

我看到一个个年轻的巨人

身体闪耀七彩的光环

他们的眼睛欢喜明亮

聚会在一座水晶的花园

 

他们唱着欢快的歌曲

跳着一种奇妙的舞蹈

一对对高大的少男少女

仿佛在庆贺盛大的节日

 

我看到一座圆形的巨厦

高高耸立在城市的上空

发出一道道白亮的闪电

高高地飞入宁静的太空

 

一座座通体白金的巨厦

构成了一个美妙的图案

整个城市是一个圆形

排列成一个精致的结构

 

我走进一座明亮的大厅

看到一排奇特的仪器

墙上悬挂巨大的屏幕

显映出一片金色的太空

 

一座座五光十色的城市

像一块块五彩晶莹的宝石

那些奇丽的高楼巨厦

胜过了人间幻想的神话

 

我看到一行行陌生的字母

在一面屏幕上匆匆闪过

几位年轻健壮的巨人

专注地观看变幻的图像

 

他们的神情宁静安然

两眼闪映智慧的光芒

穿着一种闪光的衣装

通体上下是一个整体

 

他们的身材异常高大

个个足有七米多高

男男女女容貌端庄

几乎没有年龄的区别

 

他们的皮肤洁白如雪

隐隐闪出亮丽的光泽

明亮的眼睛单纯如婴儿

又含着一种奇异的火焰

 

他们操纵神奇的仪器

变幻太空一幅幅图景

他们的语言简洁流畅

像钟磬一般悦耳动听

 

我端详这座明亮的大厅

感受到一种强大的能量

身心充满了幸福欢喜

自己也仿佛变成了巨人

 

我似乎听懂了他们的语言

他们在探索宇宙的奥秘

那一颗颗星球上的城市

住着他们无数个伙伴

 

他们用意念操纵仪器

也可以用意念传递信息

即使相距千里万里

也可以自由地用心交谈

 

那屏幕上的一行行文字

即是远方传来的信息

整个宇宙是他们的家园

他们在太空建造城市

 

他们乘坐的太空飞船

可以到达另外的空间

一瞬间化成一道闪电 

在空中变得无影无踪

 

我感受到一种新的文明

他们长着神奇的眼睛

他们似乎能看到未来

也能进入不同的时空

 

男男女女都圣洁慈爱

胜过人间所谓的爱情

他们仿佛不懂得衰老

也不知道什么叫战争

 

时间仿佛并不存在

科学就是奇妙的艺术

他们的快乐来自创造

对宇宙充满神圣的感情

 

我看到一位年轻的巨人

打开了一座白金的大门

一座圆形的华丽的大厅

坐满了一排排男女巨人

 

我看到一座水晶的舞台

旋转在这座大厅的中央

一位端庄美丽的少女

演奏着一种巨型的乐器

 

一束一束金色的光芒

变幻出各种奇妙的图形

一种玄妙动人的音乐

仿佛是龙凤悠然的啼鸣

 

我看到一位健美的巨人

在台上跳出奇异的舞蹈

他手中托起巨大的圆球

球内闪耀着彩色的画图

 

我看到一队妙龄的女郎

穿着一种雪白的裙裳

他们仿佛在翩翩飞翔

像是一只只巨大的仙鹤

 

巨大的圆厅金碧辉煌

像水晶一般清澈透明

又像是嵌满奇异的宝石

闪耀出一种绚丽的光芒

 

我看到一位年轻的歌手

全身缭绕着金色的火焰

那声音奇特而又优美

像是歌唱又像是吟诵

 

他们的音乐欢喜玄妙

像一道道闪电变幻莫测

仿佛是宇宙的一颗颗星球

在太空中闪烁亮丽的光芒

 

又仿佛一座座水晶的城市

在空中矗立宏伟辉煌

无数奇妙的金色的花朵

开满了清澈晶莹的太空

 

我看到一张张透明的笑脸

仿佛是一座缤纷的花园

金色的光芒从天空洒下

化成了一座座黄金之城

 

我走出了这座圆形大厅

来到一条宽阔的街道

光洁的路面嵌满宝石

两旁林立白金的巨厦

 

在这儿没有人间的树木

却盛开各种奇异的花朵

浓郁芳香又闪闪发光

形成了一座座街心花园

 

这是一些奇特的花木

枝干透明仿佛水晶

闪烁各种奇妙的颜色 

还有一串串金色的圆果

 

我看到一座巨大的塑像

仿佛一个太空飞船

高高地耸立在街头中心     

周围闪耀一颗颗星球

 

我看到一柱柱晶莹的喷泉

在一座巨大的圆形广场

一座座造型优美的雕像

刻画出一个个圣洁的巨人

 

一座座巍峨壮丽的巨厦

环绕着这座圆形的广场

巨厦的上面是一些花园

还有一座座白金的尖塔

 

我看到一条宽广的河流

怀抱着这座巨大的城市

水底闪映出透明的金沙

还有一颗颗七彩的宝石

 

岸边排列高大的花木

和一条条水晶的长廊

一种色彩亮丽的大鸟

三五一群在水面飞翔

 

我看到一座广阔的树林

摇曳着一树树黄金的树叶

树林中耸立一座座尖塔

又仿佛一些白金的楼阁

 

我看到一些漫步的巨人

男男女女健美潇洒

或在水边或在林中

像鸟儿一般逍遥自在

 

奇妙的太空亮如水晶  

怀抱着这座白金城市

一只一只白亮的巨球

在空中闪放无际的光明

 

仿佛是一颗颗巨大的太阳

又像是一颗颗人造的星球

整座城市也闪放光芒

形成一种神奇的景象

 

一种奇特的飞驰的列车

在城市上空回环往复

天空中仿佛有一种轨道

像一条银白闪亮的曲线

 

那一座座通体白亮的巨厦

仿佛是一座座神奇的迷宫

巨大的城市异常宁静

甚至听不到风儿的声音  

 

我告别了这座白金城市

奔向了一片金色的太空

在这儿矗立另一座城市

一座巨大的黄金之城

 

这儿的建筑同样巨大

却是另一种美丽的造型

整座城市金光灿烂

黄金的巨厦美如雕塑

 

这儿生活着另一些巨人

仿佛来自另一个民族

他们拥有伟大的智慧

像黄金一般圣洁的文明

1998.3.3  北京

地址 中国 山东省济宁市兖州区颜店镇  兖州区第十八中学 

作者姓名  远红日 

邮政编码  272100

联系电话 15263747339

邮箱 3112362909@qq.com

The Chrysanthemum Literary Society     Presents:  

 

The Betty Irene Priebe Poetry Prize:

 

$500 or $1,000 plus publication

 

of a chapbook or a full-length book of poetry that promotes human warmth, kindness, and literary excellence. The judge is 

Linda Aschbrenner.

https://www.wisconsinacademy.org/contributor/linda-aschbrenner

No Entry Fee. Write to Goldfish Press, Seattle koonwoon@gmail.com

 

The Chrysanthemum Literary Society, a

501(c)3 nonprofit organization in Seattle, WA. is proud to present the first

 

Betty Irene Priebe Poetry Prize

 

a chapbook or a full-length book of poetry

that exhibits human warmth, kindness, and literary excellence.

 

More details will be announced shortly. Please go to

 

https://www.goldfishpressseattle.com/ 

 

for future notices.

 

Lakshman Bulusu ----------------------------- poem

SPECIALLY CHALLENGED

By Lakshman Bulusu

I am specially challenged—

The experts call it OCD, BPD, depression—

The words ‘mental illness’ resonate in my mind,

my life shattered like a well-crafted antique,

splintered to pieces.

Moment by moment, this thought eclipses me.

Until one day, I realize I have to come out of this darkness.

Even the night has the moon and the stars

and the day has its light.

I thrill in gardening:

plant seeds of marigold and sunflowers,

till the soil in furrows with a cultivator or a garden hoe,

water daily using a green watering can

with patience as far as my passion can hold.

Behold each blossom, a newborn seasonal beauty.

I take to painting, try to imitate Jean-Michel,

create faces with expressions of 

joy, gloom, anger, despair—

in ages of a child, aged, blonde, and old-aged—

in ranges of white, black, brown, and 

the versatility of light.

I resort to basketball. In a court set up in my backyard

practice shooting the ball into the hoop.

Sometimes I play alone yet overcome the solitude 

by living in the next throw, this time to make it a better one.

The music of the Beatles’ Come Together and Michael Jackson’s Thriller—

the song and beat rocking through the speakers

overwhelm me as I drive through the countryside flanked by green fields. 

I recite hymns of Lord Ram at an ancient temple,

sometimes so immersed it becomes a soliloquy.

Every chant of it chases the blues away that kept chasing me.

I engage in literature, sonnet to free verse,

a monologue or a dialogue, as an inspiration 

to those sharing my space.

I write poems to characterize myself in a comic vein.

I venture out in the open, take a sojourn at the beach.

I find solace in that I can challenge my challenge.

A signal of mental wellness:

At the end of the evening, relaxing in a chair, 

sipping tea, and acknowledging passers by.

Two poems ----------- by Wendy Beamish

LOST

When I was young

And wild and joyful,

I met a mystic sage

She had a dark and golden heart

And promised me endless light

Being greedy and wanting

more happiness

I barely listened to her

song

And blithely followed her

As she spiraled down

To uplift you,

She told me,

I will take you

through the

Deepest darkness

Blackest blight

Searing sadness

And when you rise

you will break the

Surface

Like a swimmer

Bursting into the light

Following her down,

I became lost

in infinite night

in piercing pain

in tireless tragedy

Without the sage,

Doubt and Panic

overtook me

knowing I would

never be the same

But I fought,

lost

Going up

Going down

And up and down

Again and again

And years passed

this way

As I fought to break

the surface

And sometimes I thought

I saw the light

Other times

I was soaked in darkness

And each time

I was near

The light

I healed a little

And then I

realized

The light was not

Joy

But

Wisdom

Inspiration Lost

Perfectionism is

spotless white gloves,

freshly fallen snow,

unblemished porcelain skin.

But perfectionism

is parallelizing

when you're in

its grip

And inspiration

becomes mere

Respiration

Perfectionism is

the hammer that comes down

on the nail,

the noose that hangs,

the seal on the coffin,

Perfectionism is

drowning in your

own idealism

Unable to

reach my ideals

Inspiration

becomes mere

Respiration

Perfectionism

has stopped me,

death by asphyxiation 

by a Tyrant

of my own making

And when can I breathe

just a ... little

I wonder

Who decides what perfect is?

For if beauty is in the eye of the beholder,

perfect can take on many forms,

leaving it amorphous

The answer cannot

be

stopping

or

Holding tight to harrowing idealism

but

finding away

to

Exist between the lines

To allow mere respiration

To become inspiration

Podcast featuring Koon Woon

Hello folks,

If you have wondered about your editor for this venue, here is a podcast (Town Hall presentation, Seattle) featuring me with a bit about where I am coming from.

https://inthemoment.libsyn.com/67-shin-yu-pai-koon-woon-lyric-world

Peace

Koon

John Grey ..................... three poems

ON A MOUNTAIN ROAD, YOU’RE DRIVING, I’M WATCHING

As I immerse myself

in the scenery,

you grip tight

to the steering wheel,

concentrate on winding

with the winding road,

not against it.

What do I care

if there’s a deep ravine

on one side,

a towering cliff on the other.

I’m part of the mountains.

You’re maneuvering

the turns, the twists,

of the one part

of this spectacular landscape

that is indisputably human.

My reverie

takes me to the very top

of the highest peak.

Your close attention

has you where you are

at any given moment.

That last thing you want

is for is to both go over the side.

That’d be a thousand feet drop for you.

Six thousand for me.

GALE

An indifferent waking,

she invokes a comedy,

her thumb-twiddle

taking on great importance,

her twisted mouth

more for balance than effect.

And then out pop her toes

from the end of the sheets,

flaked with red paint,

wiggling like piglets

sucking on the teats of the morning.

 

Her arms stretch wide

as lungs retrieve some of the oxygen

gone missing in the night,

then knuckles rub eyes

so vision can move forward.

She lifts herself up on her elbows,

swings legs around,

touches the floor gingerly

like dipping feet in cold water.

Seated side-saddle on the bed,

this is her first portrait sitting

for the day.

Sun warms to the task.

Light is eager to begin.

First, a masterpiece.

Then coffee.

TRASH ON THE SIDEWALK

The battered rusty truck stops.

Old furniture left out on a sidewalk

is loaded onto the back.

Maybe a table with one misshapen leg.

Or a television that needs a thump on the side

to get a picture.

Or a bookcase that’s missing a shelf.

Someone inside the house

glimpses a broken chair being lifted

and they may see the hands

but never the face

of the one taking it.

And the guy doing that lifting

can see something move in the window

out of the corner of his eye

but he turns his head away.

It’s enough they know that

their trash is being taken away.

No need for them to see the one

for whom all this is treasure.

The truck drives off.

The sidewalk is clear.

The castoffs will go

to make his apartment more livable.

The family is relieved

that the junk is off their hands.

He’s anonymous

until his truck gets it to its destination.

Chrysanthemum 2020 anthology

  

Order from Goldfish Press 

koonwoon@gmail.com