Translated by Zuo Fei and Jennifer Fossenbell
The poems of Qige Tuoma masterfully mind that uncertain deluge between an object and its metaphorical capacities. In these lines, every physical aspect extends deep into the references and curiosities of thinking, creating a space for images and ideas to gather and proliferate. In “The Possibility of Nails”, translated by Zuo Fei and Jennifer Fossenbell, the spiritual is parceled into discrete parts of understanding; the mind is the thing that reaches out to touch.
To read more from Qige Tuoma, check out Spittoon Literary Magazine Issue 7, available in March.有时我需要的是如此少，清白
如藏式木桥，稳稳活在一个
无须铁钉的宇宙，甚至只活在
几根木头对一座桥最小的顽念中
就这样，我信赖着其他普通的木头
仅仅为了一次力学上的纯粹欢愉
承重越多，我们对彼此的了解
越深，我们就越像桥而不仅仅是
木头的总和。无物通行时我们
做回寻常木头，也算给对岸一次
伟大的休憩，但只要木头间仍然有
必不可少的细小磨损，也就是说
仍然有神，桥就仍然有微弱的生命
我们那位完工的神已沦为一位
检测员，每天就是按按这里按按
那里，以确保未来的每一种联结都
必然携带着疼痛，我厌倦了这样
现在这座桥在半空中找到了
它自己，下面就是现成的湍流
它已对通向别处失去了兴趣
哪怕真的有人从那边过来
就让流过来的流过去，让它它
迟早有一天它也会分崩离析
倘若其中没有一根留下新疮孔
也不必太惊讶，要知道它们一度
充满了铁钉至少是铁钉的可能
我不需要的是如此少，现有的
木和钉没有一样不是我要的
关于什么是不灭的，这些木头
终于敢与火一辩，多像我们爱时
越是想要挣脱，就越是显露出
对火焰的忠诚。正因为我们
都是木头，不会因为有了钉孔
就进不了最终那一堆严厉的大火
The Possibility of Nails
Sometimes I desire so little, as innocent
as a Tibetan wood bridge, living securely
in a universe that needs no nails, or only in the
few planks’ smallest, stubborn thoughts about the bridge
In this way, I trust all the other common planks
simply for the pure pleasure of mechanics
The more weight we bear, the better we understand
one another, and the more we resemble the bridge,
not just the sum total of wood. If nobody crosses the bridge
we become ordinary timber, which gives
the other side of the river a great rest. So long as there is
some indispensable tiny erosion within the wood—which is to say
so long as there is God, the bridge can have some sign of life
Our God, his work finished, has been reduced to
inspector, whose day job is to knock here
and tap there, ensuring that all the future links
will stand to endure pain, of which I have grown weary
The bridge finds itself now in mid-air
with the ready-made torrents below
yet it has no more interest in leading anywhere
not even when someone finally comes to cross
So let the flow flow, who cares
One day the bridge will have to collapse
and don’t be surprised if no new scars
are left on its planks, for they were once
filled with nails, or the possibility of nails
There’s so little I don’t desire: now
it’s all the wood and all the nails I want
As to what the eternal is, it’s like the wood
that dares to refute the fire, in the same way we make love—
the more willing we are to shake it off, the more faithful to
the fire. Just because we’re wood
filled with nail holes doesn’t mean
we won’t be permitted into the rigorous final blaze
七个托马， 原名越槟，1993年生，现居广州。
Qige Tuoma is the pseudonym of Yue Bin. Born in 1993, and currently living in Guangzhou.
Zuo Fei 昨非, a resident of Beijing and university English teacher, runs a WeChat platform (外国诗歌精选) that introduces foreign poetry to Chinese readers. She writes poems and essays. In 2004 she started making poetry in English, but it was not until 2016 that she was actively involved in translation. She got an MA degree from Beijing Foreign Studies University in 2000.
Jen Fossenbell lives in the suburbs of Denver USA, where she works as a web editor, writer, and mother. Her poetry and other linguistic experiments have appeared in online and print publications in China, the U.S., and Vietnam, most recently Alluvium, So & So, Black Warrior Review, The Hunger, and where is the river. She has also co-translated poetry from contemporary Vietnamese and Chinese poets, which has appeared in anthologies and journals. She completed her creative writing MFA at the University of Minnesota in 2014.