Zang Di was born in Beijing in 1964. He graduated from Peking University, received his Ph.D. in literature in 1997, and was a visiting scholar at the University of California, Davis from 1999 to 2000. He won the 2000 Poetry Award from Writer Magazine and is currently a professor in the Department of Chinese, Peking University.
On November 10, 2019, Zang Di won the Poetry Criticism Award of the 3rd Zhongshan Literature Award for "Lamentations to His Son" (14 songs). On December 14, he won the "2018 October Poetry Award."
The beauty of the world converges in an oversight
A brief history of the left side of Ginkgo biloba
——
If it is not a Privet,
No one will ever guess it.
No one prescribes what trees to plant next to the ginkgo biloba
More to the taste of the scenery; nearby
A garden that was once destroyed by a fire
A folk remedy that makes ashes look like depression.
As for the high and low, who needs a foil more,
Sacred reasons have long been as small as the mouth of a snail
Not to the slogan of the black-edged red ladybug.
And if you reach the ninth round, you can still guess
It is either hawthorn or begonia, illustrating this game
has degenerated into in our Metamorphosis
Water poured out of shoes. Take a picture,
Even in a nervous hunch, possible introspection
It will only come from the splash of turbidity.
Or take a step back: such a good lubricant,
And it comes from heaven, just think of it
A rain, don't you feel short-sighted?
Re-select a little secret for the attention ceremony,
It's a good idea. then
Between the creaks, clearer than the natural sounds,
Would you really use it to amplify a conciliation?
Dance of Silence. Green wrist of the leaf
So much so that the spring breeze has only one breath left.
Click, but not break. If you
Still can't be sure if this is or not
A qualified hymn, then just from the branches
Jumped down, who am I?
A brief history of hawthorn flowers
It has nothing to do with the line of sight, and is calm to the shadows
Moments are eternal in the ripples——
These finely fragmented clusters of white flowers
Gently trembling above the fresh green leaves,
Converging the beauty of the world into an oversight:
Neither reflects the darkness of reality,
Nor is it the hardships of a solemn life.
And your shadow is always not willing to be negligent;
Quietly, it is like a diffusion,
Bring back a new soul
In the breath of spring. Regardless of distance,
Their bloom is much more than that
The fulfillment of nature is more like an apparition.
It has nothing to do with spanning life and death,
Unless I'm in a trance at such a young age,
How could I think of giving nothingness some eye drops.
Even it has nothing to do with man, putting all the avatars
Tied together with all the stand-ins,
Nor can it offset the fact that:
In this life and in this life, there is no kind of death
Worthy to be your complicit.
A brief history of rosemary
The flesh and the soul need to be separated occasionally
But when you can't separate,
You can blow its aroma in
Those invisible gaps in time around you.
Yuan Na to this step, in fact, is also only
Just getting started. The world is too numb,
If the concentration is not enough, the wisps will be bullied,
Use the drifting clouds to elevate the nothingness of life.
The last bit of sanity left before going crazy
Let Ophelia wave her arms,
Sprinkle freshly picked rosemary petals on the ground
That Danish prince, don't you know the problem?
A request that accompanies than the wings of a butterfly
Also beautiful fanning, passing through it
It's as precise as breathing into the lungs—
If it can't be named for love, what is the meaning of fate?
Perhaps the purest you is it
The object of the thought of kung fu: at any time,
The memory of love trumps the shadow of death
Pollution to life, but luck is also crucial.
Slight deviations, stimulated nerves
It will degenerate into a midnight scream.
Insert it into the horse's head, your sorrow
It will suddenly become more rugged than everlasting sorrow.
A brief history of amber
A fiery gift that has experienced magma
High pressure, buried in darkness,
When unearthed, the crystal luster means
It also conceals the trap of fossils,
Among the exquisite pine resin organics.
When measured by hand, it is warm and moist
The whole world once belonged to a beauty;
But it's more likely you can recall
The other half of it is real: it doesn't stop there
It is the soul of the consonant tiger.
It is both a plaything and a holy relic;
But if your new life is different from others,
It starts with a delicate touch;
It can be the perfect cue,
To your secret surprise, it has never been afraid
Transparent to a sinister destiny.
In contrast, suppose you also want to know
How will you eventually overcome people's fears —
It will inspire you with its transparency
Just keep stroking it, a faint fragrance
It will slowly fill your consciousness;
Further, if you put aside the prejudices of the world,
People can also be an effect of it —
After the mind is settled, it dreams of you
Pressed it again under the pillow.