Issue 05 | Han Shimei
Han Shimei was born and raised in a farming village in rural Henan. She left school at fourteen and was married off at nineteen to a man she had not chosen. She worked the land and raised a family for the next thirty years.
She began writing poems on her phone in 2020 and posting them online. Her poems speak of loneliness, the loveless marriage and the life that was never really felt like her own. They soon drew wide attention，and her story was covered by major state media including People’s Daily and CCTV.com.. In 2021, he was invited by UN Women to speak in Beijing and named one of the top ten grassroots figures of the year in China. Her first poetry collection, The Waves Lifted Me Up, was published in 2023.
I. Suffering and the Cage·苦难与囚笼
These poems come from Han Shimei’s long years in an arranged marriage. In a quiet voice, she writes about loneliness, exhaustion, and the feeling of being trapped.
无题 1 号
和树生活在一起
不知有多苦
和墙生活在一起
不知有多痛
没人能体会我一生的心情
欲哭无泪
欲言无词
Untitled No. 1
Living with a tree—
you'll never know the bitterness.
Living with a wall—
you'll never know the pain.
No one can know
the sorrow of my whole life
wanting to weep, but finding no tears,
wanting to speak, but finding no words.
结 婚 证
我和他
犹如两座对峙的山峰
只能相望，却走不到一起
可恨的结婚证
废纸一张
却束缚我的灵与肉
身体留给丈夫和儿女
灵魂放进万花筒
跟着文字走
越过道德绑架
奔赴自由地活
The Marriage Certificate
He and I
are two mountains facing each other-
we can only look across, never coming together.
That hateful marriage certificate,
a mere scrap of waste paper,
yet it binds my flesh and soul.
My body I leave to my husband and children,
but my soul I slip into a kaleidoscope,
following the words,
beyond the chains of judgment,
running toward freedom
to truly live.
凉
寒风拽走了暖被
只留下孤冷的一张床
桌子问椅子
我的心咋就那么凉
Cold
The cold wind dragged the warm quilt away,
leaving only a cold, lonely bed.
The table asks the chair:
Why is my heart so cold?
II. Tenderness and Longing·柔软与期盼
These poems show Han Shimei’s longing for love, freedom, and a different life. She often turns to simple things in nature — grass, clouds, wind — to hold those hopes.
渴 望
我愿意用半生的孤独
去换一粒爱的种子
让太阳温暖大地
让时光追随江流
我只想回到年少
让人生永远自由
Yearning
I would trade half a lifetime of loneliness
for a single seed of love.
Let the sun warm the earth,
let time follow the river's flow.
All I want is to return to my youth,
and let life be forever free.
试着去爱
我用自由的灵魂
去尝试着爱一颗小草
爱一粒尘世的浮尘
爱每一个雷电交加的夜晚
Try to Love
With a free soul
I try to love—
a blade of grass,
a speck of dust in this world,
every night torn open by thunder and lightning.
乡 愁
我用尽一生小字
也没能填平
故乡的坑坑洼洼
月亮是故乡的探照灯
无论我漂泊在何处
都能照见我的身影
从故乡飘过来的风是软的
软进无痕的岁月
软进我的心坎
软进游子的梦里
这曲曲弯弯的人生呀
枕着故乡的月亮
做了一个长长的梦
长到白发苍苍
长到归于黄土
Homesickness
A lifetime of small words
could not fill
the dips and hollows of home.
The moon is my hometown's searchlight—
no matter where I wander,
it finds my shadow.
The wind blowing from home
is soft,
soft through the unmarked years,
soft into the depths of my heart,
soft into the wanderer's dream.
This winding, twisting life
resting my head on the hometown moon,
I fell into a long, long dream,
long enough for my hair to turn white,
long enough to return to the earth.
III. Awakening and Rebirth·觉醒与新生
For Han Shimei, poetry became a way to find herself again. These poems speak of light, kindness, and the slow beginning of a new life.
觉 醒
我已不再沉睡
海浪将我拥起
我奋力走出雾霾
看到清晨的暖阳
那里不再有黑暗
只有万道光芒
我看到了黎明
看到了希望
Awakening
I am no longer asleep,
the ocean waves have lifted me up.
I fight my way out of the fog
and see the warm morning sun.
There is no more darkness there—
only thousands of rays of light.
I have seen the dawn,
I have seen hope.
心 语
心累化作一缕烟
飞向那高高的蓝天
阳光透过云朵
它告诉我
我被乌云遮的时候
也会奋力向前
给你带来一丝的温暖
Words from the Heart
My tired heart turns into a wisp of smoke,
drifting toward the high blue sky.
Sunlight breaks through the clouds
and tells me:
Even when hidden behind dark clouds,
I will still push forward with all my might
to bring you a sliver of warmth.
清 醒
拨开层层迷雾
我看见了自己
不再随世俗浮沉
守住内心的天地
Clear-Eyed
Parting the layers of mist,
I finally see myself.
No longer adrift in the tides of the world
I will guard the world inside my heart.