Chen Liwei is a member of the Chinese Writers Association, and Vice Chair of the Tianjin Writers Association. He is one of the five leaders of the Tianjin Publicity and Culture System, and was Editor-in-Chief and Senior Editor of a special edition on Chinese New Economic Literature for Bincheng Times. Chen is the author of the novels People of the Development Zone《开发区人》and Tianjin Love《天津爱情》as well as a monograph on literary theory titled ‘An Introduction to Chinese New Economic Literature’. He has published the contemporary poetry collections ‘Cuckoo in the City’《城市里的布谷鸟》, ‘The Crazy Tower’《疯塔》, ‘Dreaming About Red Lips’《梦里红唇》, ‘Life is Beautiful《本命芳菲》, and ‘Remote Sounds of Xiao’ 《箫声悠悠》, a volume of classical verse titled ‘The House on Zhen River’, and the prose collection ‘Watering Dried Flowers’《给枯干的花浇水》. In March 2016, a seminar on his work was held at the China Museum of Modern Literature.
Tea
Some things seem like yesterday, but when you think about them too much,
they collapse, like a bubble of soap to the touch.
For years and years, the group would gather,
but many years later, their names have been lost.
Thirty years ago, a teacup was placed on a table.
Thirty years later, that teacup and table are still in my heart
but the world can no longer find their shadows –
neither the tea leaves that danced in the cup
nor the water that was brought from the yard and boiled
茶水
有些事情恍如昨日，一认真回忆
却像美丽的肥皂泡一触即溃了
很多年，很多人曾济济一堂
很多年后，很多人的名字想不起来
一只茶杯放在三十年前的桌子上
三十年后，茶杯和桌子还在心上
世界上却再找不到它们的影子
还有，那些在杯中翩翩起舞的茶叶
那些从院子里打来，并烧开的水
~
Fourteen Lines Written in Shenze
Time slows down here.
A minute is as long as a whole childhood.
A road is as long as an entire youth.
Childhood is a piece of endless white paper;
if you make a mistake, you can erase it and write it again.
Youth is a mottled palette;
when the wind blows, it sticks to the fallen canvas.
I was born here. I grew up here. I left.
A path has been hollowed out in the field.
Swimming in the blue river has turned it into a dry bed.
I rushed away from here, and took a minute –
a minute to recall my childhood; a minute to recall my youth;
a minute to slow down into a dry and distant river:
unseen waves, raging silently.
写在深泽的十四行
时间，在这里慢下来
一分钟有整个童年那么长
一条路有整个青春那么远
童年是一张无边无际的白纸
写错了什么都可以涂掉重写
青春是一块斑斑驳驳的调色板
风一吹，和倒下的画布粘在了一起
我从这里出生，长大，离开
把田间的小路走得坑坑洼洼
把蓝色的河水游成干枯的河床
我从这里匆匆走过，用一分钟
回忆童年，一分钟回忆青春
一分钟慢成一条干涸而遥远的河
看不见的波涛，在无声汹涌
~
Railsong
Parallel with the sleepers,
I count them one by one, with just one sound
and suddenly find that before and after
there are two endless distances.
A person is a sleeper
lying in the center of time.
The rails of history cannot see the beginning or the end.
One is the body, the other is the soul.
钢轨的声音
以和枕木平行的姿态
一根根一声声地数着枕木
突然发现，前后
竟有两个无尽的远方
一个人就是一根枕木
每个人都躺在时间的中心
历史的钢轨看不见首尾
一根是肉体，一根是灵魂
~
Floating Like Snowflakes
Snowflakes fall from the sky.
The closer to the ground they get, the quieter they are.
I am one of them –
stealing and carving myself with the cold.
There are more than a million possible patterns,
but I can never quite carve the one I want.
While others are blooming with dead branches,
I have already fallen to the ground and disappeared.
I am just a teardrop,
but my face was once a flower.
浮生若雪
雪花们从天上落下来
越接近地面，他们越安静
我就是其中的一朵
偷着用寒冷雕刻着自己
美丽有超过千万种图案
我却总雕不出想要的那种
人家借着枯枝怒放的时候
我早已掉到地上不见了
我只是一滴泪
虽然有过花的容颜