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Xiao Shui's new poem: "River Creek"

Xiao Shui has published poetry collections "Lost and Found" (2012), "Chinese Lessons" (2012), "wormwood: a collection of new quatrains" (2014), "Bohai Stories: a collection of novels and poems" (2016), and "Two Sunny Days, Yu Dafu" (2021).

▍ The sound of metaphor always makes me ecstatic ▍

▍The duck herders in Luxi will set up tents on the river bank before nightfall. The women will light the fire, and the men will sit on the big rocks with dogtail grass in their mouths and watch the movement in the rice fields in the distance.

He pays attention to those bandits

border

don't let them overflow

own vision.

Bamboo tail tied with red silk

set aside

Rice grains scattered in the field

Not much, but golden and shiny

The children are out of school

Everyone gather around

Listen to the foreigners being sticky

Accent, occasionally

Kick the cracked tire

Or wait for the duck to look like

Like a mudslide

stuck in river

We sit high

Look at their feather backs

Keep throwing it around

splash

My third uncle

See me, try harder

wave to me

I don't pay attention to him

i saw my mother

Pushing my sister

The garden gate has been opened

resting on her shoulder

A handful of cornstalks

corn silk

unify

hang down

like a red waterfall

It will get dark soon

The river seems to be connected

The stones have been emptied

Duck crouching in the bamboo fence

motionless

Occasionally someone approaches

stepped on

They get up, quack

step back

Soon and silently

Like a mountain shadow

Along with tree shadows and human figures

suppressed their webs

only

My third uncle and the bonfire

The voice came

I heard it really

The fire rang out

The sound of cracking shells from dried bamboo joints

followed by

Thatch whirled

toward the sky

A piece shook out

filamentous curve

My third uncle dumped his cards

tried his best

That little square chair

skew direction

He cleaned it up

Pant legs.

The woman is lying

on straw mat

Press your chest tightly

pink pillow cover

a peony

Open heavily

Heavy petals.

My third uncle

Looking at the fire

at the same time

Looked inadvertently

She glanced.

I will also look at

Swimmed towards her.

river in darkness

whitish

One or two flashlights

Bright light swept across

sometimes tight

dog barking

I am three days later

Last one seen

burn out the fire

Third uncle's house.

flint

spread out layer by layer

How many pieces are on top?

Slightly crooked beams

He brought it back from the manganese mine

enamel cup

Exposing the explosive

bottom of cup

My father is sitting

A hoop on a wooden barrel

Soaked all over

behind him

In muddy water

Grandma is rolling

cry hoarse

like a

in boiling pot

Showing fists

gray duck

there are more people

Go to the village entrance

run away

I'm barefoot

Followed closely.

I was surrounded from all sides

flow of people

Squeeze up a short section of field ridge

That mud

than a month ago

firmer

i feel it

Creamy and

obtained by feet

unprecedented

cool

In front, everyone’s

The grain fields are connected together

two pigs

dodge in panic

Once you've settled down, you'll be everywhere

Arching on the ground

The remains of corn on the cob.

in the heart of the threshing floor

on wooden board

A person is lying down.

dripping water

dripping blood

Ulcer between toes

Exposed than pale

face

more delicate

fatter

meat texture

The woman is lying

narrow

on a bench

tremble

About to run out

on her

residual current

Far away, ducks

like pieces

thrown into the crevices of the river

hemp leaves

someone

Pick up what she dropped

halfway

sandals

Cross stacked on

top of her head

Pass it to her again

a bowl of water

Thin waves

wrinkled

It seems just to let her

See clearly

later

It got dark.

The moon is like hitting a stone

of duck eggs

one

The egg liquid is fluid

extremely slow

that night

The third uncle’s house is still there

flashing from time to time

The remaining flint

bright light

I walked over

Just wanted to pick something

I heard my mother

at the doorstep

on the slope

condescending

Raise your voice

I can't hear clearly

what did she say

ears full

It came from the entrance of the village

with

Exciting rhythm

Suona gongs and drums

The road to the underworld

Very dark

So many mountain roads

But it was quickly erected

Beside the bamboo shed

First, light a bonfire

Then the percussion class

disperse

It rang again

sound of playing cards

2025.8-11

Xiao Shui,Published poetry collections "Lost and Found" (2012), "Chinese Lesson" (2012), "Wormwood: New Quatrain Poems" (2014), "Bohai Stories: A Collection of Novels and Poems" (2016), "Two Sunny Days, Yu Dafu" (2021).

▎Drawing: Ye Chao

▎Editor: Xiao Shui

▎Photography: Xiao Shui

Machine-translated from the Chinese original 肖水长诗新作:《獠溪》 (published 2024-12-26). WeChat original ↗