Li Xinxing is a member of the Chinese Poetry Society and the Hubei Writers Association. Her poetry has appeared in publications including Poetry Journal, Contemporary Poetry, Poetry Monthly, Youth, and Yanhe. Her work has been selected for numerous annual anthologies such as China’s Annual Outstanding Poetry and Anthology of Contemporary Chinese Literature. She has published the poetry collection Crouching at the Eyes of the Wind. She has featured as the cover subject for Modern Youth magazine and received the Yang Wanli Poetry Award and the Lilac Poetry Award. She participated in the 41st Youth Poetry Festival.
Me: Ms Li, it seems fewer people are writing poetry nowadays. As a contemporary poet, what do you believe poetry can offer society, humanity, and ordinary people?
Ms Li Xinxing: The claim that “fewer people are writing poetry” requires verification. In the internet age, particularly with the flourishing of self-media platforms, numerous ‘non-professional’ poets from diverse fields have entered the public eye. Self-media provides them with a stage for expression and display. From this perspective, the number of poets has not diminished; rather, they are being ‘seen’ on an unprecedented scale. The value of poetry is perceived differently by each individual, but one aspect may be universally shared—writing or reading poetry can grant one a sense of transcendence. Genuine poetic creation compels one to continually examine oneself, contemplate one’s inner world, and maintain a clear-eyed detachment from external matters.
Me: Hmm, it’s just that poetry is no longer confined to the single medium of paper. In this internet age, the platforms for poetry have become more diverse. So why did you become interested in poetry? Where does your motivation to write come from?
Ms Li Xinxun: Writing poetry, or creation in general, first springs from an instinctive impulse: the urge to write, to express oneself, an unease that persists until it is given voice. As the ancients said, “Poetry expresses one’s aspirations; song gives voice to one’s feelings” – precisely conveying the act of venting emotions and entrusting one’s thoughts. For me, poetry functions more like a ‘freezing of the moment’—using verse to capture long-suppressed sentiments, or to articulate thoughts that linger relentlessly. Strictly speaking, I haven’t merely chosen poetry; I gravitate towards all forms of poetic expression. Poetry is simply one medium that currently resonates most deeply with me and that I feel capable of mastering.
Me: From your perspective, how should poetry be disseminated today to remain vibrant? Might you share two of your works?
Ms Li Xinxun: While dissemination methods warrant discussion, the more fundamental questions are “why write” and “how to write”. I believe every literary work follows its own trajectory and finds its audience. Some poems lend themselves to mass dissemination, like certain works that go viral online. Some strike a chord with ordinary readers, evoking deep resonance; others, with their fresh style, are shared by young people as personal signatures… Such poems possess an inherent capacity for spread. Yet another category of poetry may be best suited for quiet exchange within a specific profession, circle, or among fellow poets. Forcing it upon a broader audience might prove counterproductive. I penned a piece titled Lies, written in a restrained and subdued tone, exploring familial bonds. It resonated deeply with many online readers, some moved to tears. Another poem, Encountering an Old Book Market at Baoguo Temple, gained rapid traction after being recited by a popular actor. Yet I remain clear-headed: the latter’s popularity stemmed largely from celebrity influence. Without such backing, similar poetry struggles to enter the public consciousness.
Me: People often speak of “poetry and distant horizons.” What are your thoughts on this phrase? How do you understand the relationship between poetry and poetic sensibility?
Teacher Li Xinxin: Personally, I don’t agree with tying “poetry” and “distant horizons” together. Poetry need not reside in distant lands; it can fully emerge from our mundane, authentic daily lives. Poetic sensibility, too, is not some ornamental object to be placed on a high shelf. It is, in essence, an attitude towards life—a spiritual flame that refuses to be extinguished even in the face of oppression, suffering, or sheer mediocrity. One poet remarked that without writing verse, he might never have endured those bleak days. Poetry, to a certain extent, alleviates the poet’s inner burdens. I believe that for those who have wrestled in life’s mire, poetry is that flickering, unquenchable light in the gloom. One may live without writing verse, but one cannot live without poetry. When we taste life’s bitterness, poetry offers solace and transformation, purifying and elevating the soul.
Poetry:
Encountering an Old Book Market at Baoguo Temple
How long must one gaze
to be worthy of a temple’s serenity?
Amidst street stalls and overpasses, in quiet corners,
their figures linger. Clad in simple attire, faces gentle,
the dust of time has brushed their eyes and palms.
After the volcano’s fury, a long slumber ensues
Lush forests adorn the caldera with mountain reflections
Bending down is to reach the summit. Wind turns the pages of glorious history
The clamour resides in the marketplace, yet renown lies beyond its bustle
Books slumber in ancient cradles. Buried and sifted time and again
Their bones grow more singularly exquisite. What flavour
Could rival the incense fermented by time? What grace
Matches a tree’s meditation through thickened rings?
In ancient temples, footsteps rare, catalpa trees hang inverted
Crescent fruits, like a resolute act of filial recompense
Wild grasses sprawl unchecked, revealing the sky’s gaps
Temple and plant converse amidst waves of layered, aged volumes
