The Chinese poet Xue Di came to the United States immediately after the Tiananmen Square Massacre in 1989 in Beijing, becoming writer-in-residence at Brown University and a fellow in Brown's Freedom to Write program. Across Borders , his third book of poetry, presents in a bilingual (Chinese and English) edition marvelously rich prose poems, shimmering with dream-like detail.
I really enjoyed Alison Friedman's explanations of her decisions in translating the work, the footnotes, and, of course, Xue Di's lyrically charged poetry. The book is physically perfect--it fits in the hands so nicely, and the mirrored Chinese (simplified characters) and English are rendered beautifully. Xue Di writes with passion, urging and breathless. He writes of a home he cannot return to and a self that is at once turning, drifting, exposed.
"Poets! Write the whispers of your soul. Write what Power prohibits. Write yourself: your filth, your transgression desires, our hubris, dreams realized and dreams deferred. Poets, transcribe each breath that carried you here. Write yourself: your blood, your bones, your tattered flesh . . . My poems grasp for others like me -- if but to hold them."
If anything, this book proves that the Chinese language is impossible to translate well. There are some things that are so much better said in the original language.