Chapter 7, The Life-and-Death Romance of Tragic Poets
——Reading two poems by Gu Cheng
“Don’t Speak, I Will Not Yield”
In a death cell on the verge of collapse,
the hero answered the enemy in this way——
Don’t speak
I will not yield
although I want to survive
I want rice and vegetables
I want to use a silver-white room
to store sunlight
I want the windowsill
to be covered with sunflowers
and autumn maple leaves
I want, in a field of silence
to gaze at birds
and let my heart also fly onto the roof tiles
Don’t speak
I will not yield
although I long for love
long to pass through thousands of miles
of unrelated clouds
to search for that small path
long, between forest and window
with the lightest kiss
to make her eyelashes covered with pollen
to say goodbye to streetlights
along a lullaby
walking toward childhood
Don’t speak
I will not yield
although I need freedom
like a blade of grass
that must move the stones upon its body
like a sunflower
that demands its own crown
I need the sky
a blue washed pale by gentle wind
letting poetic lines slowly disperse
like waves
transmitting fruit
but, do not speak
I will not yield
“Do You Still Remember That River?”
Do you still remember that river?
She knew how to bend so well
covering her eyes with small leaves
and then, without saying a word
we walked for a long time
yet never asked clearly where she came from
in the end, we only discovered
a small lovely lamp
quietly bathing in the river
Now, there are no flowers by the river
only a small path
pure white, like a strand of cotton
pulled from a giant snowball
trees with black skin
were fixed onto the snow
by the magic of winter
across the water, they still have not forgotten
to blame one another
Water still flows
and when no one is around
it begins to sing songs it does not understand
it comes from a warm place
so it is not afraid of catching a cold
it exhales gently
like frosted glass
it wants to draw on it
I cannot draw pictures
I can only write letters on the snowfield
writing down everything you want to know
come, or it will be too late
the letter will melt
freshly awakened flowers will steal it away
and hand it to frightening bumblebees
and then, the honey will be gone
leaving only a small lamp
After 1976, the “Misty Poetry Movement” rose. Gu Cheng was one of its key figures. His works had far-reaching influence across Chinese-speaking communities outside China, and his fame even exceeded that of the “leader” Bei Dao. His micro-poem A Generation — “The darkness gave me black eyes / but I use them to seek light” — is widely known by readers. At that time, he was only 23 years old, a newly entered educated youth in society, yet already possessing such sharp observation and insight, capable of using poetry to pierce the false collective ideology and social system. This shows his thought matured very early. Later, Gu Cheng’s works indeed displayed many traits of a precocious poet: sharp perception and extremely strong expressive impact. I will introduce two of his works.
“Don’t Speak, I Will Not Yield” already reveals clues from its opening frame: “In a death cell on the verge of collapse / the hero answered the enemy——”. “Not yielding” is the tonal core running through the entire poem. In the first section, the poet loudly declares that he will not yield, although he wants to “survive.” He then lists his original desires in sequence: “rice and vegetables” → “a silver-white room” → “windowsill” → “gazing in silence.” These material desires in fact only satisfy basic survival needs. In the post–Cultural Revolution era, just after ten years of turmoil, when everything awaited reconstruction, such desires seemed almost unreachable. Yet even with this awareness, the poet does not submit to a material-impoverished environment; he still holds determination to strive upward and improve the quality of life.
In the second section, the poet expresses his spiritual desires: “love” → “passing through thousands of miles of clouds” → “a small path” → “forest and attic” → “a light kiss on the lover” → “childhood.” After securing basic survival conditions, he longs for emotional nourishment—especially a return to childhood-like innocence and pure love. Having material and love, the final section presents his need for freedom. He uses several similes to describe freedom: “like a blade of grass / needing to move the stones upon its body”; “like a sunflower / needing the sky”; “like waves / transmitting fruit.” Yet moving from material needs → to love → to freedom, in that historical environment the poet realizes these are still beyond his reach. Nevertheless, he still declares with conviction: “but, do not speak / I will not yield.” The reader thus feels his uncompromising spirit toward external conditions; the poem is highly inspirational and full of upward-moving energy. However, after emigrating to New Zealand, Gu Cheng and his wife Xie Ye lived in hardship. When Xie Ye firmly sought to leave him, it triggered Gu Cheng’s murderous impulse. In October 1993, Gu Cheng killed his wife with an axe and then hanged himself, ending his life. In the end, the poet still yielded to life in a non-rational way. In contrast with this poem, the irony and sorrow are overwhelming.
“Do You Still Remember That River?” is a poem with environmental awareness. In early 1980s China, when reform and opening-up had just begun and foreign capital was being introduced, the poet already demonstrated such ecological sensitivity through sharp observation of daily life—this is indeed rare.
In this poem, the central image of the “small river” constructs a narrative axis, and the visual imagery is vivid and lively. In the first section, the poet uses recollection to re-present the river’s former clarity. In memory, the river could bend and cover its eyes with small leaves; this of course comes from the poet’s use of personification, turning the river into a shy, quiet yet considerate young girl. “We walked for a long time / yet never asked clearly where she came from” — the river leaves a beautiful memory for the poet, yet he “never asked clearly where she came from.” He only remembers “a small lovely lamp / quietly bathing in the river,” where the “small lamp” can be understood as the moonlight reflection rippling on the clear water surface.
The second section of depiction is shifted to the present time and space:
“Now, there are no flowers by the river anymore
only a small path
white to the extreme, like from a large snowball
pulled out a section of cotton thread
trees with black skin
are fixed by winter’s magic onto the snow
across the water, they also did not forget
to blame each other”
The river water has been polluted by discharged industrial wastewater. The small path by the river has been dyed white by pollutants. The trees along the riverbank have had their “skin” blackened by exhaust fumes. “Across the water, they also did not forget / to blame each other” — here, the “they” on the surface seems to refer to the path and the trees on the opposite bank, but it should actually be understood as the people living on both sides of the river, with people blaming each other across the riverbank.
“Water is still flowing / when there is no one / it begins to sing songs it does not understand” — the polluted small river, the river water still flows, but it can only sing songs it does not understand, not understanding why people no longer cherish it, and have so badly harmed and ruined it. “She comes from a warm place / so she is not afraid of catching a cold / she gently exhales / like frosted glass / she wants to draw on it” — after suffering these humiliating treatments, the small river, this little girl, can only make light of her suffering, drawing on frosted glass to relieve her depressed mood.
“I cannot draw pictures / I can only write letters on the snow / writing down everything you want to know / come, or it will be too late / the letter will melt” — in the final section, the poet wants to write what he has seen on the snow to his friend, and urges his friend to come quickly before the snow melts, otherwise this letter exposing the truth will melt away. This kind of fairy-tale-like imaginative thought actually contains a satirical meaning, implying that these real tragedies will soon be concealed and covered up.
“Young flowers that have just become sensible will steal it away / and hand it over to the frightening bear bee” — the poet further implies that some newly aware children will take this letter exposing the truth and report it to the “bear bee,” and after receiving the tip-off, the authorities will arrest and interrogate the poet who leaked the information: “then the honey is gone / only a small lamp remains.” The closing image of the “small lamp” is highly intriguing; it forms a sharp contrast with the “lovely small lamp bathing in the river” in the first section. The small lamp in the first section is the reflection of the moon on the river surface, while the small lamp in the final section is the lamp in an interrogation room, under which the whistleblower (the poet) is subjected to exhausting interrogation.
