Silahkan, siapa yang tertarik, membaca sajak-sajak seorang buruh Foxconn
(Pabrik "sosialis ciptaan pemimpin besar komunis Deng Xiao-ping!), salah satu
buruh yang bunuh diri. Inilah cara Deng xiao-ping menciptakan kebahagiaan bagi
kaum buruh muda Tiongkok dan mengatasi "pemerataan kemiskinan" warisan Mao!!!
The poetry and brief life of a Foxconn worker: Xu Lizhi (1990-2014)
Translations of poems by Xu Lizhi (许立志), the Foxconn worker who took his own
life on 30 September 2014, at the age of 24, in Shenzhen, China. Also includes
an obituary with some explanatory notes.
Note: Below are translations by friends of the Nao project, starting with Xu's
departing poem and an obituary, followed by other poems from 2011 to 2014. By
translating these poems, we aim to memorialize Xu, share some of his excellent
literary work, and spread awareness that the harsh conditions, struggles and
aspirations of Chinese migrant workers (including but not limited to Foxconn)
have not diminished since the more widely-publicized spate of 18 attempted
Foxconn suicides in 2010, resulting in 14 deaths. Insiders report that
thereafter, although the frequency of suicides decreased (mainly due to
Foxconn's installation of nets making it more difficult for workers to jump
from their dormitories, along with the development of workers' collective
resistance), such suicides have continued to the present. Including Xu Lizhi,
at least 8 cases have been reported in the media since 2010, but insiders say
that many other cases go unreported. We hope that in the future, workers in
Foxconn and elsewhere manage to find ways around such companies' military-style
discipline and surveillance, come together, and forge collective paths out of
this capitalist world of death, into a world worth living in. Don't give up!
Several of these poems were included in the Shenzhen Evening News article
linked and translated below; the others are widely available on the web, such
as this post on Douban.
Contents:
Obituary + "On My Deathbed" (2014)
"Conflict" (2013)
"I Fall Asleep, Just Standing Like That" (2011)
"A Screw Fell to the Ground (2014)
"A Kind of Prophecy" (2013)
"The Last Graveyard" (2011)
"My Life's Journey is Far From Complete" (2014)
"I Swallowed a Moon Made of Iron" (2013)
"Rented Room" (2013)
"Upon Hearing the News of Xu Lizhi's Suicide" by Zhou Qizao, a fellow worker at
Foxconn (2014)
Obituary from Shenzhen Evening News, including Xu's departing poem
by Li Fei and Zhang Xiaoqi
10 October, 2014
《我弥留之际》
“On My Deathbed”
我想再看一眼大海，目睹我半生的泪水有多汪洋
I want to take another look at the ocean, behold the vastness of tears from
half a lifetime
我想再爬一爬高高的山头，试着把丢失的灵魂喊回来
I want to climb another mountain, try to call back the soul that I’ve lost
我还想摸一摸天空，碰一碰那抹轻轻的蓝
I want to touch the sky, feel that blueness so light
可是这些我都办不到了，我就要离开这个世界了
But I can’t do any of this, so I’m leaving this world
所有听说过我的人们啊
Everyone who’s heard of me
不必为我的离开感到惊讶
Shouldn’t be surprised at my leaving
更不必叹息，或者悲伤
Even less should you sigh or grieve
我来时很好，去时，也很好
I was fine when I came, and fine when I left.
-- Xu Lizhi, 30 September 2014
Shy, quiet, introverted, solitary
In 2010, Xu Lizhi went [from his home in rural Jieyang, Guangdong] to work at
[a] Foxconn [electronics factory in Shenzhen], beginning life on the assembly
line. From 2012 until February of this year [2014], over 30 of his writings
were published in Foxconn’s internal newspaper Foxconn People (富士康人), including
poems, essays, film reviews, and news commentaries {…} Xu posted the titles of
these writings on his blog in a post called “The Maturation Given to Me by a
Newspaper,” indicating his gratitude for this platform for his literary
aspirations. The first time his friend Zheng (pseudonym) read Xu’s poetry, he
was astonished to discover that this young man could be so talented.
Henceforth, Zheng always looked for Xu’s writings in the newspaper.
Zheng’s impression was that Xu was a shy boy, “of few words, but not silent.”
“Xu asserted his convictions, but he seemed quite solitary – very much the air
of a poet.” When Zheng heard of Xu’s suicide, his entire [week-long] break for
[China’s] National Day was shrouded in grief. He could not go outside for days.
Turning feelings into poems; fearing they be read by family
Most of Xu’s early poems were descriptions of life on the assembly line. In
“Workshop, My Youth Was Stranded Here,” he described his conditions at the
time: “Beside the assembly line, tens of thousands of workers [dagongzhe]1 line
up like words on a page/ 'Faster, hurry up!'/ Standing among them, I hear the
supervisor bark.” He felt that “Once you’ve entered the workshop/ The only
choice is submission,” and that his youth was coldly slipping away, so he could
only “Watch it being ground away day and night/ Pressed, polished, molded/ Into
a few measly bills, so-called wages.”
At first Xu Lizhi found it difficult to adapt to the constant switching between
dayshifts and nightshifts. In another poem, he described himself by the
assembly line “standing straight like iron, hands like flight,” “How many days,
how many nights/ Did I – just like that – standing, fall asleep?” He described
his working life as exhausting, “Flowing through my veins, finally reaching the
tip of my pen/ Taking root in the paper/ These words can be read only by the
hearts of migrant workers."
Xu once said that he never showed his poetry to his parents or other relatives,
"because it's something painful; I don't want them to see that."
Failed efforts to get a job related to books
Although Xu lived in Shenzhen for only a few years, he identified deeply with
the city. "Everyone wishes they could put down roots in the city," he
explained, but most migrant-worker [dagong] poets write for a few years and
then return to the countryside, get married and have children; Xu hoped to
avoid that fate. He tried setting up a street stall with a friend, but failed.
He also tried transferring from the assembly line to a logistics position,
where he would have more freedom. He understood that very few such poets could
get out [走出来]: "[we] have to constantly fight for our lives [为生活奔波]; it's hard
to go any further than that."
In February of this year, Xu quit his job at Foxconn and moved to Suzhou,
Jiangsu. His friend explained that Xu's girlfriend worked there, but apparently
things did not go well for Xu in Jiangsu. He told Zheng that he had trouble
finding a job, but he did not go into detail about what happened there..
Half a year later, he moved back to Shenzhen. In an earlier interview, Xu had
said that he loved this city, that he derived great pleasure from its Central
Book Mall and public libraries. If he were to return home [to rural Jieyang],
there were only a few small bookstores, and "even if I tried to order books
online, they couldn't be delivered" [to his remote address].
Due to his love of books, the first job application he submitted upon his
return to Shenzhen in early September was to the Central Book Mall. Zheng
recalled that Xu had told him, while working at Foxconn, that his dream was to
become a librarian. Unfortunately, he did not get the job, and Zheng thinks
this was a major disappointment. Two years earlier, Xu had applied for a
position as librarian at Foxconn's internal library for employees, in response
to a call for applications, and Xu had been turned down then as well. {...}
Returning to the workshop for one day prior to the incident
Xu was running out of money, so after these disappointments, he returned to
Foxconn, beginning work on September 29, in the same workshop where he had
worked before. This should have been a new beginning, but it was not. That
evening he mentioned to Zheng via online chat that someone had found him
another job, so he might leave Foxconn again, but Zheng did not consider this
anything special, figuring that Xu would not leave very soon, having just
resumed work at Foxconn.
The next Zheng heard of Xu was two days later, when people forwarded the news
of Xu's suicide on WeChat. Zheng could not believe it: "Hadn't we just chatted
two nights ago?" Later Zheng learned that Xu had committed suicide only the
morning after they had chatted, not two days later as the media had reported.
Refuting online rumors that Xu was an orphan
[Although it has been 10 days since Xu's death,] when it is mentioned, Zheng
still cannot bear the grief. He thinks that Xu's suicide resulted from both
internal and external factors: not only the disappointments he had undergone,
but even more so the solitary poetic spirit in his bones.2
After Xu's passing, some online obituaries claimed that as a young child he had
been orphaned, neglected and insulted until a poor old women adopted and raised
him, and that this foster-grandmother had died a few years ago, leaving Xu
alone in the world.
Zheng [refuted these rumors, pointing out that] Xu's writings often mentioned
his mother and homesickness. His second poem published in Foxconn People[for
example], was called "Summertime Homesickness."
Xu's poetry is cold and pensive, directly facing a life of misery. His poems
trace a trajectory in which the scent of death becomes more and more
pronounced. He had already rehearsed death hundreds of times in his writing, so
the final act was merely a small step over the edge.
Selected Poems by Xu Lizhi
《冲突》
"Conflict"
他们都说
They all say
我是个话很少的孩子
I'm a child of few words
对此我并不否认
This I don't deny
实际上
But actually
我说与不说
Whether I speak or not
都会跟这个社会
With this society I'll still
发生冲突
Conflict
-- 7 June 2013
《我就那样站着入睡》
"I Fall Asleep, Just Standing Like That"
眼前的纸张微微发黄
The paper before my eyes fades yellow
我用钢笔在上面凿下深浅不一的黑
With a steel pen I chisel on it uneven black
里面盛满打工的词汇
Full of working words
车间，流水线，机台，上岗证，加班，薪水……
Workshop, assembly line, machine, work card, overtime, wages...
我被它们治得服服贴贴
They've trained me to become docile
我不会呐喊，不会反抗
Don't know how to shout or rebel
不会控诉，不会埋怨
How to complain or denounce
只默默地承受着疲惫
Only how to silently suffer exhaustion
驻足时光之初
When I first set foot in this place
我只盼望每月十号那张灰色的薪资单
I hoped only for that grey pay slip on the tenth of each month
赐我以迟到的安慰
To grant me some belated solace
为此我必须磨去棱角，磨去语言
For this I had to grind away my corners, grind away my words
拒绝旷工，拒绝病假，拒绝事假
Refuse to skip work, refuse sick leave, refuse leave for private reasons
拒绝迟到，拒绝早退
Refuse to be late, refuse to leave early
流水线旁我站立如铁，双手如飞
By the assembly line I stood straight like iron, hands like flight,
多少白天，多少黑夜
How many days, how many nights
我就那样，站着入睡
Did I - just like that - standing fall asleep?
-- 20 August 2011
《一颗螺丝掉在地上》
"A Screw Fell to the Ground"
一颗螺丝掉在地上
A screw fell to the ground
在这个加班的夜晚
In this dark night of overtime
垂直降落，轻轻一响
Plunging vertically, lightly clinking
不会引起任何人的注意
It won’t attract anyone’s attention
就像在此之前
Just like last time
某个相同的夜晚
On a night like this
有个人掉在地上
When someone plunged to the ground
-- 9 January 2014
《谶言一种》
"A Kind of Prophecy"
村里的老人都说
Village elders say
我跟我爷爷年轻时很像
I resemble my grandfather in his youth
刚开始我不以为然
I didn’t recognize it
后来经他们一再提起
But listening to them time and again
我就深信不疑了
Won me over
我跟我爷爷
My grandfather and I share
不仅外貌越看越像
Facial expressions
就连脾性和爱好
Temperaments, hobbies
也像同一个娘胎里出来的
Almost as if we came from the same womb
比如我爷爷外号竹竿
They nicknamed him “bamboo pole”
我外号衣架
And me, “clothes hanger”
我爷爷经常忍气吞声
He often swallowed his feelings
我经常唯唯诺诺
I'm often obsequious
我爷爷喜欢猜谜
He liked guessing riddles
我喜欢预言
I like premonitions
1943年秋，鬼子进
In the autumn of 1943, the Japanese devils invaded
我爷爷被活活烧死
and burned my grandfather alive
享年23岁
at the age of 23.
我今年23岁
This year i turn 23.
-- 18 June 2013
《最后的墓地》
"The Last Graveyard"
机台的鸣叫也打着瞌睡
Even the machine is nodding off
密封的车间贮藏疾病的铁
Sealed workshops store diseased iron
薪资隐藏在窗帘后面
Wages concealed behind curtains
仿似年轻打工者深埋于心底的爱情
Like the love that young workers bury at the bottom of their hearts
没有时间开口，情感徒留灰尘
With no time for expression, emotion crumbles into dust
他们有着铁打的胃
They have stomachs forged of iron
盛满浓稠的硫酸，硝酸
Full of thick acid, sulfuric and nitric
工业向他们收缴来不及流出的泪
Industry captures their tears before they have the chance to fall
时辰走过，他们清醒全无
Time flows by, their heads lost in fog
产量压低了年龄，疼痛在日夜加班
Output weighs down their age, pain works overtime day and night
还未老去的头晕潜伏生命
In their lives, dizziness before their time is latent
皮肤被治具强迫褪去
The jig forces the skin to peel
顺手镀上一层铝合金
And while it's at it, plates on a layer of aluminum alloy
有人还在坚持着，有人含病离去
Some still endure, while others are taken by illness
我在他们中间打盹，留守青春的
I am dozing between them, guarding
最后一块墓地
The last graveyard of our youth.
-- 21 December 2011
《我一生中的路还远远没有走完》
"My Life’s Journey is Still Far from Complete"
这是谁都没有料到的
This is something no one expected
我一生中的路
My life’s journey
还远远没有走完
Is far from over
就要倒在半路上了
But now it's stalled at the halfway mark
类似的困境
It’s not as if similar difficulties
以前也不是没有
Didn’t exist before
只是都不像这次
But they didn’t come
来得这么突然
As suddenly
这么凶猛
As ferociously
一再地挣扎
Repeatedly struggle
竟全是徒劳
But all is futile
我比谁都渴望站起来
I want to stand up more than anyone else
可是我的腿不答应
But my legs won’t cooperate
我的胃不答应
My stomach won’t cooperate
我全身的骨头都不答应
All the bones of my body won’t cooperate
我只能这样平躺着
I can only lie flat
在黑暗里一次次地发出
In this darkness, sending out
无声的求救信号
A silent distress signal, again and again
再一次次地听到
Only to hear, again and again
绝望的回响
The echo of desperation.
-- 13 July 2014
《我咽下一枚铁做的月亮》
"I Swallowed a Moon Made of Iron"
我咽下一枚铁做的月亮
I swallowed a moon made of iron
他们把它叫做螺丝
They refer to it as a nail
我咽下这工业的废水，失业的订单
I swallowed this industrial sewage, these unemployment documents
那些低于机台的青春早早夭亡
Youth stooped at machines die before their time
我咽下奔波，咽下流离失所
I swallowed the hustle and the destitution
咽下人行天桥，咽下长满水锈的生活
Swallowed pedestrian bridges, life covered in rust
我再咽不下了
I can't swallow any more
所有我曾经咽下的现在都从喉咙汹涌而出
All that I've swallowed is now gushing out of my throat
在祖国的领土上铺成一首
Unfurling on the land of my ancestors
耻辱的诗
Into a disgraceful poem.
-- 19 December 2013
《出租屋》
"Rented Room"
十平米左右的空间
A space of ten square meters
局促，潮湿，终年不见天日
Cramped and damp, no sunlight all year
我在这里吃饭，睡觉，拉屎，思考
Here I eat, sleep, shit, and think
咳嗽，偏头痛，生老，病不死
Cough, get headaches, grow old, get sick but still fail to die
昏黄的灯光下我一再发呆，傻笑
Under the dull yellow light again I stare blankly, chuckling like an idiot
来回踱步，低声唱歌，阅读，写诗
I pace back and forth, singing softly, reading, writing poems
每当我打开窗户或者柴门
Every time I open the window or the wicker gate
我都像一位死者
I seem like a dead man
把棺材盖，缓缓推开
Slowly pushing open the lid of a coffin.
-- 2 December 2013
《惊闻90后青工诗人许立志坠楼有感》
"Upon Hearing the News of Xu Lizhi's Suicide"
by Zhou Qizao (周启早), a fellow worker at Foxconn
每一个生命的消失
The loss of every life
都是另一个我的离去
Is the passing of another me
又一枚螺丝松动
Another screw comes loose
又一位打工兄弟坠楼
Another migrant worker brother jumps
你替我死去
You die in place of me
我替你继续写诗
And I keep writing in place of you
顺便拧紧螺丝
While I do so, screwing the screws tighter
今天是祖国六十五岁的生日
Today is our nation's sixty-fifth birthday
举国欢庆
We wish the country joyous celebrations
二十四岁的你立在灰色的镜框里微微含笑
A twenty-four-year-old you stands in the grey picture frame, smiling ever so
slightly
秋风秋雨
Autumn winds and autumn rain
白发苍苍的父亲捧着你黑色的骨灰盒趔趄还乡
A white-haired father, holding the black urn with your ashes, stumbles home..
-- 1 October 2014
Translators' notes:
- 1.From the 1990s through the 2000s, dagongzhe referred mainly to migrant
wage-laborers from rural areas, often working in precarious employment
positions, as opposed to urbanites working in stable positions (usually in
state-owned enterprises), who were called gongren, the socialist-era term for
urban “workers” with permanent positions in state-owned and collective
enterprises. In the past few years, however, these two terms have become
somewhat interchangeable (perhaps reflecting the convergence of conditions
among different types of workers), so here we translate dagongzhe simply as
"workers." (Below we add "migrant" in a few cases where it seems necessary for
clarification; in general, the term reflects the ambiguity of migrant workers'
status in China today - as workers differentiated from other workers, as
neither urbanites nor peasants - somewhat like the ambiguous status of
international migrant workers in other countries, such as people from rural
Mexico working in the US..) For discussions of these two terms as used in the
2000s, see “China’s Migrant Workers” by Prol-position, and the introduction to
Made in China by Pun Ngai (Duke University Press, 2005).
- 2.We at Nao would like to point out that this explanation neglects the
profound hatred of life on the assembly line reflected so clearly in many of
Xu's poems quoted above and translated below, coupled with his desperation
after repeatedly failing to find a more satisfactory way out of that life,
including the possibility of returning home to the empty, poor village where he
would be cut off from access to books - his main source of pleasure and meaning
in life (along with - presumably - the possibility of being together with his
girlfriend or getting married, which would require more money than Xu would
have been able to make in the countryside). This account also fails to explain
why so many other workers - at Foxconn and elsewhere - have chosen to commit
suicide - even those who were not poets.
