To celebrate WORLD POETRY DAY, we’ve decided to post one of Rebecca’s prose poems from her first book, “The Glass Between Us,” both in English and in Chinese, the latter thanks to the wonderful translation by fellow photographer and translator, Monica Lin, who is based in Hong Kong. We are dedicating the poem to all the Chinese photographers we’ve met — both in the Hong Kong workshop, at our Hong Kong slide talk, and through the TWO LOOKS online photographic community. In addition, since the poem takes place in the Caribbean, we decided to pair it with a relatively unknown photograph of Alex’s from Puerto Rico, which will appear in his new book, “The Suffering of Light.”–=Alex Webb and Rebecca Norris Webb
Sailing in the Caribbean, I catch a mahi mahi. It takes two men to lift its four-foot body from the sea. On the hot teak deck, I watch the creature shift its tint, from teal to indigo to aquamarine, like having a tiny sea, beautiful and raging, at my bare feet. As it flips and flops, I feel a little afraid of this great hulking dying thing. I wish it would fly. I wish it would be still. I’m ashamed how hungry it makes me feel.
Within minutes, I slip a piece of deep red sushi between my lips. The freshest fish I’ve ever tasted, it is heavy and sweet and otherworldly, like a slice of mango or sex in the sun after swimming in the turquoise Caribbean. What I hope my own death will taste like.—Rebecca Norris Webb, from the book, “The Glass Between Us”
几分钟后，一块深红色的生鱼片滑进我的双唇。这是我尝过最新鲜的鱼肉了，它厚实、鲜甜、超凡脱俗，如同一片芒果，又像在宝石般的加勒比海水中暢泳之后開始的性爱。真希望自己的死亡也有同樣的味道—Rebecca Norris Webb, translated into Chinese by Monica Lin, from the book, “The Glass Between Us”