<DIV><p>In a 1989 interview, Han Dong declared that he wrote poetry for nobody, not even himself. He likens the poet to a roofer: "I write poetry for the constitution of poetry, just as a roofer gives no thought to who lives in the house whose roof he is covering?he builds to meet the criteria of what a house is. Poetry is not subordinate to purposes beyond itself: its highest purpose is to be without purpose."</p><p><I>So?and?so's come to a sad end . . ."<BR>In the gloom, he smiles gently, lovingly<BR>As if to say I can rely on him in this world of nothingness<BR>"But the thing is, we could never be sure<BR>. . ."<BR>"We probably should" and "Possibly". . .<BR>Earnest words like the thread in a foster mother's hand<BR>As she darns a monk's ragged robe<BR>That's a story that can't be darned<BR>"Poor man!"?The thread is knotted<BR>But the knot in my heart tries to pass through the needle's eye<BR>The tree leaves at dusk have an oily gleam</I></p><p><B>Han Dong</B> was born in 1961 in Nanjing, where he continues to work as a full-time writer. He is also a respected novelist?his first, published in translation as <I>Banished!</I> by University of Hawai'i Press, was longlisted for the Man Asian Literary Prize 2008.</p><p><B>Nicky Harman</B> lives in the United Kingdom. Besides translation work, Harman is active on the Chinese translated fiction website Paper Republic and in literary translation organizations in the United Kingdom.</p></div>