【Huilan's Poem】Morning

By Huilan

Birds don’t wake me up but your whisper

Your soft voice from another side of the world

penetrates me like fragrance of wild poison flowers in forest

You have made me die; you have brought me back to life

I am not sensitive to death, but I am sensitive to you

I close my eyes to feel you

Your tender skin, gentle hands and beautiful soul

I feel you as my ancient Chinese porcelain vase

For I am longing to touch you but fear to break you to pieces

So I bury you in my eyes, my poems 

but unable doing the same in my heart

You live inside me: day after day, moments by moments...

We English Version Translated by Huilan

The English version of We translated by Huilan who is a well known Chinese poet and translator, was published by Chinese Translation Press and already got its second edition.

The author is one of the best Chinese prosers who was born in early 1960s. His work presents a generation growing up in Chairman Mao’s time. The book shows both sides life: historical and personal. It is a epitome of one generation in that special time period.  

I Thought My Father was God Chinese Version Translated by Huilan

The Chinese version of I Thought My Father was God Translated by Huilan who is a well known Chinese Poet and translator, was published in October, 2012 by Chinese Translation Press.  

 The editor of the book,  Paul Auster (1947-   ), is a well known American author whose writing blends absurdism, existentialism,crime,fiction, and the search for identity and personal meaning in works such as the New York Trilogy (1987),Moon Palace(1989), the Music of Chance(1990),the Book of Illusions(2002), and the Brooklyn Follies(2005). He is also the vice-president of Pen Aerican Cwenter.  

I Thought My Father was God is the true-life stories in this unique collection provide "a window into the American mind and heart" (The Daily News). One hundred and eighty voices - male and female, young and old, from all walks of life and all over the country - talk intimately to the reader. Combining great humor and pathos this remarkable selection of stories from the thousands submitted to NPR's Weekend All Things Considered National Story Project gives the reader a glimpse of America's soul in all its diversity.(this paragraph quoted from : http://us.macmillan.com/ithoughtmyfatherwasgod/PaulAuster).

Ginger Pye Chinese Version Translated by Huilan

The Chinese version of Ginger Pye, translated by Huilan who is a well known Chinese poet and translator, was published in September, 2012 by Guizhou Translation press.

The author, Eleanor Estes (1906-1988) was an American children's author. Her book Ginger Pye won the Newbery Medal. Three of her books were Newbery Honor Winners, and one was awarded the Lewis Carroll Shelf Award. Estes' books were based on her life in small town Connecticut in the early 1900s

The Same Sea Chinese Version Translated By Huilan

       The Chinese version of The Same Sea, translated by Huilan who is a well known Chinese poet and translator, was published in June, 2012 by Chinese Translation press.

      The author, Amos OZ is a famous Israel author who was born in Jerusalem in 1939, has published 18 books and hundreds of essays in Israeli and in international magazines and newspapers. Oz's works have been translated into 41languages in over 35 countries. He has received many honors and awards, among them the National Order of the Legion of Honour of France, the Goethe Prize, the Prince of Asturias Award, the Heinrich Heine Prize and the Israel Prize.

      He writes in Hebrew and has been visiting China for times. The Same Sea is his most important work of literature. Almost of his works now, have been translated into Chinese.

【Huilan's Poem】Together

By Huilan


Like a boat sailing for the ocean, we jump in and ready to go.
It’s a warm sunny day; a day for receiving a gift also to give away.
I am as nervous and silly as a teenager, keep thinking of the breeze
outside of the window, is just like your hand, soft and gentle;
the tree leaves dance in a rhyme while the wind bell sounds crisp…
Then, here are your eyes, like the whole blue water floating on me,
covering my body as a smooth and warm wave, gushing soft yet rapidly,
wave by wave, wordless to wordless…

I get drowned from the color of the ocean and sky.
Perhaps I get drunk, too.
But I still want more, just like dew soaks the gauze air, but not enough.
Suddenly, I am greedy and want a quant so that I can sail far and far,
till getting myself lost, till I’m shaking like a leaf in a storm,
quivering together with the dew…


But not enough; then

just like a small leaf falls onto a big leaf, again, I lean into you,
burying my head into the grass of your warm chest, searching
for the fresh scent of a man, the strength of a lion.
The man in my arms is aged wine, luring my stomach with a tasting.
Somewhere in a dark bush, I found a burring fire again,
like a big diamond: hard, firm, and pointed; I cannot tell.
Only my tongue knows…

【Huilan's poem】in the Sky

By Huilan



I am flying as high as eagles in my dream.
The water looks like the soft skin of my hands’ back, smooth and still.
It makes me feel empty, and replenished. Sometimes,
I can feel the smile of the man in my mind touching my body steadily.
After years of waiting, each pore of my skin awakens from time,
as well as my memories.

I am flying so high to reach stars; to cross past and future.
Somewhere in the world, a man is waiting for me, for a Chinese girl,
who comes from ancient dynasty of China when it was free to fly;
a girl is misdated to city Zigong, Chengdu and Beijing,
where people see her as an alien.
She was born when Chairman Mao was still the emperor.
Fortunately, her family has survived from all political movements
as the richest of the country in later Qing Dynasty for years.
Her childhood’s always hungry dizzily, but she always felt grateful
to the government, by only took over all of the properties
but not her thoughts.

of the old days, I already knew she is me: small, soft, but strong.
I can still remember myself as free as birds drifting among hills,
just like right now, above the clouds, above minds of people.
At the moment, I’m a drop water of Pacific Ocean, crossing time and space,
skin colors, opinions, and languages
to you.

I am flying.
I want to know if a drop of water can melt anything,
including a man?

【Huilan's poem】the Moment

By Huilan


Always a deep night. I hear a stream running in the forest.
The season dies and it’s alive, a worm comes and moves away.
I stand there waiting for the moon, or a shadow under tree leaves,
like the stubborn wood for the wind; the silly bird for spring.
I don’t know what it is; perhaps a drop of water, a sound, a sight,
a road to the endless of the night, or a laughing from the heart of a child.
I don’t know what it is but standing still.

Who’s there playing my harp? Who wipes the dust from the scotch?
When stars have gone, they left the sky as a huge drop of black tear.
It drops down to my room, puts out my dreams quietly.
I can’t remember when I cried and now I really don’t care:
A huge drop of black tear of night can be also the blue sea of a new day;
of the new day, there’re sparkles in my eyes.

I hear you say to me: not long now, Huilan.
And I know, it would be soon. We would sit down on the beach,
watch the surface of the sea, waving high, just like our hearts inside.
We would see something more turbulent than waves but not say a word.
Only sit down still to listen to our breath; then, quietly,
we would hold hands in hands, look into each other’s eyes,
until all stars come back with flash tears of joy.

The night is so quiet at the moment.
Once more, your soft voice whispers my name with a gentle tone.
It is like traces on sands after breezing; as soft as silk.
It pours out to me smooth but firm, within a moment,
I was lost, and I’m found…

【Huilan's poem】the Picture

By Huilan

A dream again. Next morning, I remember what I dreamt.
It’s a picture from you via email. Warm sunlight,
golden clouds, the reflection of satin sea.
Outside of the picture, I can imagine the seashore with trees,
a man, his warm hands, hairy skin, and smooth breath...
The man who’s taken it now standing there, quiet but smiling,
just like the sun, the sea, the sky, the music far away, where,
for some unknown reasons, all is close to me.



I open out the picture; let the warm rays come into my room;
invite the sunshine as my guest, and with whom,
I gain enough energy to fight the loneliness of nights; immediately,
it aroused some dried feelings from my deep memory;
then made all is fresh again with only one moment.
I sigh. I smile. I say not a word.
By the window, the moon hangs on outside.
It is so quiet;
of the sea, I smell the scent.



The picture from the dream reaches me it’s real,
like the footprint in steps I just stared at,
or a gift god left.
I wonder if I am the cloud flying into the picture, or,
a drop of water which also can be a whole sea.
Not only one time, have I received a sun from you.
And this time when I dream, you know at once.



It’s a deep night in Beijing.
All sunshine in the picture comes out suddenly.
In a very soft yet wild way,
it covers my eyes, my nose, my lips, and
my imagination…

【Huilan's Shots】Autumn in Boston!

By Huilan

I grew up in South. I like the warm climate， and the peace and quiet of nature. The crowded metropolises often bother me. But for some unknown reasons, the two northern cities: Beijing and Boston approach me as a fate. I love the autumn of these two places, the best.


These shots were taken casually surrounding Boston. The scenes are not with people and the city in because I want to feel relaxed and in peace in my own space. I wish people who see these having the same feelings as well.


I won’t say much more here. In my opinion, the landscape of China and the exotic is no different; as long as our minds are full of peace and nature, everywhere of the world, is only beauty.


I am just thinking this right now: since our living space increasingly lower, perhaps, only natural, is a real home of our souls.

From the bridge up hill, I look down another bridge and colorful trees; I unfold my heart to the nature…

I saw the views in the dream of my childhood; at the moment, the oil lamp of my ancestral home had long been extinct. I am not sure, if the wandering boat still carries my old dream? !

It is not important which harbor we departure or return, but we do mind if we understand well what we are doing ...

Both, trees and leaves, show their beauty in the wilderness of natural world…

Autumn has come. You can see ducks swim in the pond, and the sky in the water is so blue...