Chen-ou Liu's Translation Project: First English-Chinese Haiku and Tanka Blog

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Four-Leaf Clover Haiku

four-leaf clover ...
these lingering doubts
about her love
Chinese Translation

Ardea, 7, 2017

Saturday, December 9, 2017

White Lies Haiku

between his white lies
stratus clouds

Chinese Translation


Ardea, 7, 2017

Friday, December 8, 2017

Selected Tanka: Limping Shadow Tanka

sissy, sissy!
the taunts clinging 
like his sweaty T-shirt
he and his shadow
limp toward home

Gusts, 17, Spring/Summer 2013

Selected Kyoka: Tudor Court Face Kyoka

my muse listens
to the hum and strike
of my words...
that same old look
on her Tudor court face

NeverEnding Story, March 27, 2013

Thursday, December 7, 2017

Monday, December 4, 2017

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Saturday, December 2, 2017

Midnight Train Tanka

alone I wait
for the midnight train ...
returning home
               <--> no one
scrawled on the wall

NeverEnding Story, November 17, 2017

You are my sunshine

At her first white house briefing, the new press secretary reads aloud a letter from a nine-year-old boy, "You're  my favorite president. I like you so much that I had a birthday about you. My cake was the shape of your hat..."  After she finishes reading the letter, an awkward silence envelops the room.

America First sign
in my new neighbor's front yard
the rooster puffs up

Cattails, October 2017

Friday, December 1, 2017

White Paper Swans Tanka

coming home
from the overtime shift
this Valentine's night
on my single bed
two white paper swans

Atlas Poetica, 29, 2017

Thursday, November 30, 2017

Faded Photo Tanka

faded photo
in the family album
on New Year's Eve
eighteen-year-old me stares
at fifty-year-old me

Atlas Poetica, 29, 2017

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Drenched in Longing Tanka

she's gone for good,
patches of yellow grass
on the lawn
my shadow and I
drenched in longing

Atlas Poetica, 29, 2017

Immigrant Heart Tanka

winter sunlight
pouring through the window ...
cup of wulong tea
warms my immigrant heart

Atlas Poetica, 29, 2017

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

A World of Two Realities

a list
of her new demands ...
I stare
at the dust motes
drifting in our room

she is not dead
and yet not alive ...
gaping silence
between the two of us
who share the same bed

she's gone ...
I roll over
and face the wall,
only the ticks
of our wedding clock

all that
remains of my ten-year
nail holes in the walls
and a pile of bills

Atlas Poetica, 29, 2017