The poems of poet Yu Xiuhua are:
1. "The Mountain People"
You got me drunk, saying that crowds gather in town. But I think of a fallen acacia tree in the mountains
You get me drunk and say I've been asked to dance. But I think of an acacia tree in the mountains that has lost its leaves
The sunlight that shines on me can shine on the little squirrel hole north of the acacia tree, on its flustered mother
To be celebrated by me
I am the man who carries the rain on his back up the mountain, and I was, and I will be
I am the man who rests the dark clouds in his arms, and I was, and I will be
And when you look at me I am a pile of Dirt
When you look at me, the wind blows the fallen leaves away and I am a pile of damp dirt
2. "Nothing I love is mine"
That was the time when they walked by the pond and their reflections hovered
That was the time when the clouds were so white they paid no attention to such a hovering
I see so many things in the clear wind: Exuberance and decadence*** reside in one branch
They eschewed earthly disabilities in their whispers
And the light, which encircled them so tightly
I wanted to howl, just to howl
One who had been robbed of all he could be
3. "Moonlight in this deep winter"
Moonlight in this deep winter, as white as white
She is in the yard, and she wants to be illuminated by such moonlight
The one who leans against the persimmon tree as if crucified
How many a crucifixion has there been, and how many a crucifixion has she clung to this persimmon tree, waiting for the Judgement
Waiting for another release to the frontiers of destiny
The moonlight has blackened everything that is white: the white frost, the white The white of the hour
The white of the bones
They were all black
Like a coffin across her body
4. The Sunshine is Good
I went to the train station to pick up my ticket, and I looked into the sunlight
I could faintly hear the roar of the k268 from Beijing
I pressed my chest tightly.
I pressed my chest as hard as I could against the ebb and flow of the Yellow River wave
Walking down the long Changning Avenue, crossing the Zhupi River, and squeezing out of the seething Democracy Street
In between, I took out my train ticket 4 or 5 times
Looking into the sunlight
Seeing a man begging for money with a baby in his arms on Pedestrian Street
I touched a bill that was stuck to my ticket
Bowed down and looked at it.
Bowed down and handed it to him
5. "Spring Colors"
Watching with bated breath: the one in love exchanging cups with the other
They traveled up from the Han River, boozing up the spring colors all the way up
-all of this. I prepared here, prepared to give my whole life to him
He called her darling (I never dared to call her that, this snake, this thunder, this destruction)
The plantains I planted were hers, the butterflies I kept were hers
The sky I kept clean for half my life was also hers
Even the poems I wrote, the voices I called out
It is hers too
Watch with bated breath: they dance in the vastness of the river and the mountains
They don't know the yellowing of the banks
They don't know the thinly clad people who roam by the water's edge