Rude Awakening By Zhen Yu and translated by Violet Liang
Some years later I realised that, what I once reckoned to be love is merely something that bears traits. Tomatoes bear fruit’s shape and taste. Cinemas bear the seats for two people to liven up or to stay quiet. A journey bears some place ahead where I won’t get hurt. I was 8, and I was at my uncle’s. He was a slack Christian by then. Under the Cross of a hospital sign, we coarsely prayed for a miracle, and begged for happiness and good health, from the dining table to his sickbed.
Rain Boots By Zhen Yu and translated by Violet Liang
Anything else has been worn, be it a word, or a quarrel, or in the end the peace that remains rattled. But only rain boots are kept brand-new. In rain and mud, the pair convulse my mind, soon set aside. Still, they are like brand-new. They fit me well as they did on each of the last three thousand days. They never changed, neither did the morning sun. Rain boots. I divine, it never rained in my life. It’s all for precaution. It’s all my illusion. Zhen Yu is an active member in a young poet society made up of students in Chinese literature and in creative writing. Violet Liang studies Logic and Philosophy of Science at LMU in Munich. She is from Guangdong in China. She speaks Mandarin, Cantonese, English and is learning German.