The Other China
Lao Shu 老樹 is the nom de plume of Liu Shuyong (劉樹勇, 1962-), a Beijing-based artist, writer, critic and professor in communications. His artistic voice is unique and personal, its tenor, whimsy and profundity evoke what for decades we have called The Other China — a cultural noosphere that is as undeniably local as it is universal.
— Geremie R. Barmé
Editor, China Heritage
30 June 2024
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Lao Shu in China Heritage:
- Lao Shu’s Fall, 12 December 2023
- Lao Shu’s New Year, 4 January 2024
- Lao Shu’s Farewell to the Year of the Rabbit, 31 January 2024
- ‘Do you really think you can eat those pies in the sky?’, 29 February 2024
Bring on the seasonal mugwort,
No real need for meat Zongzi.
Then again, given the malignant air,
Maybe they might do some good.
— Duanwu Festival, Jiachen Year of the Dragon, Lao Shu
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Filled with boundless Ambition
They soar ever up, skywards.
Hard knocks of reality bring them down
as they realise they’re in a bottle.
— on a day beset by snow, the Guimao Year
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斷硯殘墨，
禿筆舊紙。
書寫千年，
靠！
哪有信史？
A broken inkstone, leftover ink
Shedding brush and a scrap of paper
This, to write a millennial history:
Fuck that!
What kind of record will remain?
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In the first blush of youth
Everything went your way.
Then, in retrospect, you know the
Spring zephyrs have given way to age.
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A tedious week has come to an end.
Hearing the distant rumble of thunder
Knowing I can sleep in tomorrow,
I’m simply overjoyed.
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Life passes by like a dream
This forlorn city, bound by fog.
As moonlight shimmers in the water
A lone boat finds its way.
— Lao Shu, in the depths of autumn in the Guimao Year
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夢離自由境地，彷彿一步之遙。
醒來看看自己，已經無處可逃。
In one’s dreams freedom
Is but a hair’s breadth away.
Upon waking, you take stock:
There’s nowhere to flee.
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世事一日三要，感覺越來越難。
網上高人無數，天天指點江山。
個個無所不懂，樣子都像神仙。
不知神仙自己，是否也有麻煩。
Seems harder and harder
to get through the days, while
There’s no end of people online,
offering all kinds of advice.
They seem to know everything
And they strike sage-like poses.
I wonder if these saints ever
Have any trouble themselves.
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There’s room to spare in this vast realm,
What need to compete with anyone?
Barley waves in the fields
Winds swirl in the skies.
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In the breezes of summer,
Blossoms adorn the verdure;
Flowering alone in the wild,
They are like carefree poems.
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Source:
- 老樹畫畫，微博，2024年5至6月