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

Showing posts with label selected. Show all posts
Showing posts with label selected. Show all posts

Monday, March 23, 2026

Redwood Hike Haiku


My haiku is now on display in Washington DC's Golden Triangle as part of the 2026 Golden Haiku Competition.

Friday, March 20, 2026

Give me your tired, your poor ...

the Stars and Stripes
in my migrant friend's wrinkled eyes
the spring that once was

American dream
somewhere over the rainbow
detention camps

A group of protesters, mostly gray-haired, gathers at the steps of the Statue of Liberty. They reclaim this public space as a site of memory and denunciation. Helped by her granddaughter, a civil rights activist reads out loud, one by one slowly, the names of the unlawfully disappeared.

Each name is a breath of life , a wound of heart, and most importantly, a warning for the country whose "greatness" will be built on the silence of everyday Americans.

Editor's Choice, Cattails, October 2025


Commentary: Chen-ou Liu is again another artiste who shows us that only in asking will we find the path— that only by daring can we truly reclaim what we have lost. He tells us of a history that is easily forgotten and warns us of what is, and what is in the coming. The prose is stark, focussing on the intergenerational emotion that resonates with freedom. As I read this over and over again, it dawned on me that in writing, Chen-ou dares us too. It is at once a warning and a beseeching. The haiku are placed at the beginning—a necessity to draw our attention to the immediacy of the moment.


FYI: The title refers to the most famous inscription on the Statue of Liberty, "The New Colossus," a sonnet by Emma Lazarus.

Friday, February 7, 2025

Two Haiku Included in Haiku 21.2

Two of my haiku below are included in Haiku 21.2,  a new anthology that presents examples of the best haiku being written in the second decade of the 21st century as Haiku 21 presented the first. It is edited by Lee Gurga and Scott Metz and published by Modern Haiku Press. 


I

remarried
the taste of pinot noir
left open overnight

Frogpond, 40:3, Fall 2017

And my free verse below could be read as its prequel:

Pickled Sorrow

I slice my sorrow,
pickle the cutlets,
and closet them in a jar.

When hungry,
I'll have a slice
with pinot noir.



II

a white lie
to cover another
early snowfall

Failed Haiku, 5:58, October 2020
jar of rain: The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku 2020
Haiku 2021

Commentary: Like the falling snow, white lies are pleasing to the senses, but too much of each may do more harm than good. This deceptively simple haiku seems like a cautionary tale, reminding readers to watch their words, even if well intended... review of jar of rain by Joanne Morcom

And my haiku below could be read as its prequel:

snow drifting ...
all her colorful words
about love



FYI: Haiku 21: an anthology of contemporary English-language haiku is the Winner of the “Best Anthology” award from the Haiku Society of America and the Haiku Foundation Touchstone Award.

Saturday, December 21, 2024

Indian Summer Haiku

this muscle memory
of my son flying high
Indian summer

Selected Haiku, Yamadera Basho Memorial Museum English Haiku Contest 

Friday, December 20, 2024

Slow Dance Haiku

a slow dance
in the light of dawn
first snowflakes
 
Selected Haiku, Yamadera Basho Memorial Museum English Haiku Contest 

Sunday, September 1, 2024

Rain Chain Haiku

Zen garden
a rain chain drips
droplets of light

Selected Haiku, Paint Me: 2024 New Zealand Poetry Society Haiku Contest Anthology

Sunday, June 2, 2024

Childhood River Haiku

childhood river
the light of fireflies dim
... and dimmer


Romanian Translation by Editor Steliana Cristina Voicu

râul copilăriei
lumina licuricilor slăbește
…și mai slabă


Commentary by Editor Steliana Cristina Voicu

The childhood house is a gem for many of us, the most beautiful thing in the world and when we grow up, this gem turns into diamond, we compare everything with it… how mother cooked that pudding, how grandpa took care of the basil and so on… The childhood river is shine and brightful like fireflies, but these fireflies dim… and dimmer, this picture is so beautiful, yet poisonous. Why the fireflies light dim? Maybe because the boat moves away from the shore (we have that info by the ”river” keyword). As the author moves away from his birthplace, the glimmers are more and more pale. In the same way, as we become adults, we leave, we move, and the birthplace becomes a memory. How many of us are lucky enough to stay in the place where they were born and raised? Most of them go to another city or even abroad. Fireflies are the expression of the simple things in life, those which matter the most. The childhood is a river for the author, which means a flowing water, which can be associated with the thread of life that carries the author through all the places where he grew up or lived at a given time.

Romanian Commentary:

Casa copilăriei este o bijuterie pentru mulți dintre noi, cel mai frumos lucru din lume și când creștem, această bijuterie se transformă în diamant, comparăm totul cu ea... cum gătea mama acea budincă, cum avea bunicul grijă de busuioc și așa mai departe... Râul din copilărie strălucește și strălucește ca licuricii, dar acești licuricii se estompează... această imagine este atât de frumoasă, dar de o frumusețe care doare. De ce lumina licuricilor este slabă? Poate pentru că barca se îndepărtează de țărm (avem această informație prin cuvântul cheie „râu”). Pe măsură ce autorul se îndepărtează de locul său natal, licăririle sunt din ce în ce mai palide. La fel, pe măsură ce devenim adulți, plecăm de acasă, ne mutăm, iar locul de naștere devine o amintire. Câți dintre noi avem norocul să rămână în locul în care ne-am născut și am crescut? Majoritatea merge în alt oraș sau chiar în străinătate. Licuricii sunt expresia lucrurilor simple din viață, cele care contează cel mai mult. Copilăria este un râu pentru autor, adică o apă curgătoare, ceea ce poate fi asociat cu firul vieții care îl poartă pe autor prin toate locurile în care a crescut sau a trăit la un moment dat.


FYI: This haiku could be read as a sequel to the following:

floating world ...
this childhood river
of summer stars


Chen-ou Liu

And the following haiku could be read as its sequel:

night of fireflies ...
all that remains 
of our on-off love


Chen-ou Liu

Sunday, April 28, 2024

Saturday, December 9, 2023

Independence

"Dear Chen-ou, I hope this email finds you well. Share with you my family photo, which was taken this glorious morning." 

In the photo, my friend, his wife and two daughters, wrapping themselves in the flags of blue and yellow, stand with arms linked before a row of rusty Russian tanks on Liberation Square. 

My friend used to be a Surrealist poet, known for his purposeful use of "obscure and unwieldy verbiage." He sent me the following poem at the end of his lengthy and furious email a week after the Russian invasion.

in smoky twilight
the head of I cut off
the roof of M falling through --
I paint poetry with screams, 
the last phase of lyricism

His emails now are short and straight to the point, and often attached with photos to speak for his mood or state of mind, like the one he sent me today. Under his family photo, there is a caption that reads:

If Russia stops fighting, there will be no more war.
If Ukraine stops fighting, there will be no more us.

no man's land 
between barbed wire fences
the kraa-kraa-kraa 
of ravens scratching 
at the soldiers' hearts

Ribbons, 19:3, Fall 2023


FYI: "Independence," was nominated by the Tanka Society of America for the Pushcart Press Competition.

Sunday, October 29, 2023

Pushcart Prize Nomination by the Tanka Society of America

My Dear Friends:

I'm happy to share with you this exciting news: my tanka prose, "Independence," nominated by the Tanka Society of America for the Pushcart Press Competition.


Independence 

"Dear Chen-ou, I hope this email finds you well. Share with you my family photo, which was taken this glorious morning." 

In the photo, my friend, his wife and two daughters, wrapping themselves in the flags of blue and yellow, stand with arms linked before a row of rusty Russian tanks on Liberation Square. 

My friend used to be a Surrealist poet, known for his purposeful use of "obscure and unwieldy verbiage." He sent me the following poem at the end of his lengthy and furious email a week after the Russian invasion.

in smoky twilight
the head of I cut off
the roof of M falling through --
I paint poetry with screams, 
the last phase of lyricism

His emails now are short and straight to the point, and often attached with photos to speak for his mood or state of mind, like the one he sent me today. Under his family photo, there is a caption that reads:

If Russia stops fighting, there will be no more war.
If Ukraine stops fighting, there will be no more us.

no man's land 
between barbed wire fences
the kraa-kraa-kraa 
of ravens scratching 
at the soldiers' hearts

Ribbons, 19:3, Fall 2023


This poem was inspired by both the Ukrainian resistance and Seamus Heaney's remark on poetry:

In a war situation or where violence and injustice are prevalent, poetry is called upon to be something more than a thing of beauty.


Many thanks for your continued support of my writing.

Chen-ou


FYI: Ls 4&5 of the first tanka allude to the following remark:

Miles away from poetry, we still participate in it by that sudden need to scream—the last stage of lyricism. 

-- Romanian philosopher and essayist Emil Cioran, whose work has been known for its pervasive philosophical pessimism, style, and aphorisms

And "The Pushcart Prize: Best of the Small Presses series, published every year since 1976, is the most honored literary project in America - including Highest Honors from the American Academy of Arts and Letters."

Saturday, November 26, 2022

Ebb and Flow Haiku

ebb and flow
of Pacific waves ...
years in exile

International Haiku Plaquette Project, November  2022


Chinese Translation 

太平洋
的海浪潮起潮落…
流放多年

Spanish Translation by Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi 

flujo y reflujo
de las olas del pacífico
años en el exilio






Friday, June 3, 2022

Length of A Dream Haiku

borderwallborderwallborderwall... the length of a dream


Whiptail Nominee for the Haiku Foundation Touchstone Awards for Individual Poems

Wednesday, November 10, 2021

Ghost Town Haiku

rusty staples
on the bulletin board
a ghost town

Selected Haiku, Kissing A Ghost: 2021 NZPS Poetry Contest Anthology

Wednesday, April 28, 2021

Sleets of Moonlight Tanka

dust motes
adrift in the sleets
of moonlight
my father slips in
and out of himself

Selected Tanka, Gusts, Fall/Winter 2020