Jone Guo
Jone Guo Poems
Silence has leaves
Silence has ears, it has
A dawn trapped in a square
The streets have no messengers
...
The birches open their eyelids
Like a new page of the calendar
The light of life awakens
...
The mill of dusk has stopped
The water that remains is all black
No matter what it contains
...
Independence Day
Not the roses that fill the shops
Not the bouquets
Dyed red and blue
...
Night. In the lamplight
A tiger is crouching
Speechless
The Pacific overflows with darkness
...
Wander, carrying my own heart
It's a glass vessel
Filled with ocean blue
Poet, why are you in grief?
...
The sun is rising:
The light that rolls out the morning
All tears
...
Clouds of colors
Like curls tied up with golden cords
The sky inlaid into the realm
Sapphire in a dream
...
Jone Guo Biography
Jin Zhong (? ?) is the pen name of Jone Guo. He was born in Harbin, China, in 1962. He went to Beijing Foreign Studies University in 1986 as a graduate student majoring in English and American Literature. In 1989, after the Tiananmen Massacre, he went to hide. In 1991, he successfully escaped to the US for political exile. Jin Zhong currently lives in San Diego, California. His works have been published in China, USA, and Europe. He is the translator of Anne Sexton, Brodsky, and Marriane Larsen. He also translates his own poems. Jin Zhong is also a painter, and healer and therapist. Contact: poetryabvechina@aol.com)
The Best Poem Of Jone Guo
Sketches From City
1. ADDRESS
Carrying with me
The deepest affections
I start to look for you
2. SORROWS
Tiny flower petals
Scattered everywhere
Each one of them
Filled with blood
That light-purple
3. TOUCH
The sun descends
It rests on my shoulders
The sky melts
4. ROADS
A song is sung
It spreads to all directions
5. SPRING
A violin, so warm
6. CITY
Two people
All alone
Come together
7. POETRY
The sunlight, having traveled far and wide
Comes down into this human world
8. TREES
He breathes
His breath, spreading like roots
His eyes, piercing the darkness
9. FUTURE
Each year
At the Day of Pure Brightness
That same group
Will return to this suburb
Where tree branches just starts to sprout
They will sweep their own tombs
10. HOPE
A vast stretch of homeland
Slowly, unfolds itself:
Her fury
Her tears
Her fresh flowers
1990
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