Li Young Le

Li-Young Lee (1957 - present) is a contemporary writer influenced by the literary work of Chinese Writers such as Li-Bo and Tu-Fu. Nevertheless, his poems are very original and have a special style that combines strength, simplicity and silence. As reported by Alex Lemon in the big Minnesota Newspaper “the literary work of Li-Young Lee is near mysticism”. In addition, Lee's poems use many memorable and deplorable moments of his life and contains an exquisite narrative.

His parents were Chinese citizens and political exiles; that is why that Li-Young Lee was born in a different Asian country. In fact, he was born in the cultural city of Jakarta in Indonesia around 1957. Few years later, the family of Li-Young Lee moved to the United Sates in 1964. When he was young, he attended the Prestige University of Pittsburgh. Since that time, he began to increase his passion for letters and writing. Li-Young Lee found in his father a loyal friend and a supporter.

He received the honorary degree of Doctor of letters from the University of New York in 1998; this was one of the brilliant moments in his career. Nowadays, he lives in Illinois with his family.

Li young Lee Poems

生命

誰也不會想到,“帶我與你”

聽證會風去了?

而且發現自己落在後面,恢復

他自己的真實版本的時間

在地球上,一顆種子在這裡倒下死

而生的事情承諾

在同一個夢想

每一個細胞的他一直夢想扎進

由於處於起步階段,每分鐘有共同的服務。

出生兩次,他有兩個母親,一個誰死,一

砂漿中,他的審判。他雙

自然劈開他的眼睛,分裂他的聲音。

所以,如果你聽到他說,當他坐在床上

一個母親“帶我回家”

聽仔細。為了生活,

他說,“記住我的心”。

To Life

Who hasn't thought, "Take me with you,"

hearing the wind go by?

And finding himself left behind, resumed

his own true version of time

on earth, a seed fallen here to die

and be born a thing promised

in the one dream

every cell of him has dreamed headlong

since infancy, every common minute has served.

Born twice, he has two mothers, one who dies, and one

the mortar in which he's tried. He double

nature cleaves his eye, splits his voice.

So if you hear him say, while he sits at the bed

of one mother "Take me home,"

listen closer. To life,

he says, "Keep me at heart.

小父親

我埋葬我的父親
在天空中。

此後,鳥類

清潔和梳理他每天早上

和拉毯子到他的下巴

每天晚上。

我埋葬我的父親在地下。

從那時起,我的梯子

只爬了下來,

和所有的地球已成為一所房子

其客房的時間,其門

站立在晚上開放,接收

客人後,客人。

有時候我看到他們過去

對表傳播的婚禮盛宴。

我埋葬我的父親在我心裡。

現在,他生長在我,我奇怪的兒子,

我的小根誰也不會喝牛奶,

有些蒼白腳沉沒在前所未聞的夜晚,

小鐘春新濕
在火災中,小葡萄,家長未來

酒,水果的兒子自己的兒子,

我父親很少跟我的生活贖金。

Little Father

I buried my father

in the sky.

Since then, the birds

clean and comb him every morning

and pull the blanket up to his chin

every night.

I buried my father underground.

Since then, my ladders

only climb down,

and all the earth has become a house

whose rooms are the hours, whose doors

stand open at evening, receiving

guest after guest.

Sometimes I see past them

to the tables spread for a wedding feast.

I buried my father in my heart.

Now he grows in me, my strange son,

my little root who won't drink milk,

little pale foot sunk in unheard-of night,

little clock spring newly wet

in the fire, little grape, parent to the future

wine, a son the fruit of his own son,

little father I ransom with my life.




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