Poem of the Week: Wang Ping

  

Photo by Yu Jian          

Tsunami Chant

I'm not a singer, but please

let me sing of the peacemakers

on the streets and internet, your candles

in this darkest moment of night,

your bodies on the steps of government buildings,

your voices from the roots of grasses and trees,

from your pit of conscience.

I'm not a prayer, but please,

please give my voice to the children

in Baghdad, Basra, Afghanistan,

and every other bombed-out place on earth,

your crying out in pain and fear;

please give my hands to the mothers

raking through rubble for food, bodies;

my sight to the cities and fields in smoke;

my tears to the men and women who are brought

home in bags; and please give my ears

to those who refuse to hear the explosions,

who tune only to censored news, official words.

I'm not a citizen, but please

count my vote against the belief

that the American way is the only way,

count it against the blasphemy of freedom,

against a gang of thugs who donned crowns

on their own heads, who live for power

and power only, whose only route is

to deceive and loot, whose mouths move

only to crush, whose hands close

only into a grave.

I'm not a worshiper, but please

accept my faith in those

who refuse to believe in painted lies,

refuse to join this chorus of supreme hypocrisy,

refuse to sell out, to let their conscience sleep,

wither, die. Please accept my faith

in those who cross the bridge for peace,

only to be cursed and spat upon, but keep crossing

anyway, every Wednesday, in rain and snow,

and my faith in those who camp out night after night,

your blood thawing the frozen ground,

your tents flowers of hope in this bleak age.

I don't possess a bomb, don't know

how to shoot or thrust a sword.

All I have is a broken voice,

a heart immense with sorrow.

But please, please take them,

let them be part of this tsunami

of chanting, this chant of awakening.

-Wang Ping 

Used by permission.

From The Magic Whip (Coffee House Press, 2003)  

Wang Ping was born in Shanghai and came to USA in 1986. She is the founder and director of the Kinship of Rivers project, which builds a sense of kinship among the people who live along the Mississippi and Yangtze Rivers through exchanging gifts of art, poetry, stories, music, dance and food. Publications include short story collections, novels, and the poetry collections Of Flesh and Spirit and The Magic Whip, as well as Flash Cards: Poems by Yu Jian, co-translated with Ron Padgett. Aching for Beauty: Footbinding in China won the Eugene Kayden Award for the Best Book in Humanities. Wang Ping has had many multi-media exhibitions and collaborated with the British filmmaker Isaac Julien on Ten Thousand Waves, a film installation about the illegal Chinese immigration in London. She is the recipient of National Endowment for the Arts, New York Foundation for the Arts, New York State Council of the Arts, Minnesota State Arts Board, the Bush Artist Fellowship, Lannan Foundation Fellowship, Vermont Studio Center Fellowship, and the McKnight Artist Fellowship.

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