正文
王云，1980年考入清华大学物理系，1985年考取李政道物理奖学金（CUSPEA）到美国卡内基梅隆大学攻读博士学位，现在是美国俄克拉荷马大学的教授，专事宇宙学（Cosmology）教学及暗物质暗能量（Dark matter & Dark Energy）方向的研究。
王云擅写诗。她当年是不是清华校园诗坛的风云人物，我不知道。但她来美国多年，一直坚持写诗，用英文写。几年前她在美国出版了一本英文诗集《The book of Jade》，获得过奖（Nicholas Roerich Poetry Prize），可见她除了是一位宇宙物理科学家，还是一位名副其实的诗人。
我和王云素昧平生。只知道她来自贵州遵义。我从前很亲密的老朋友，在二十多年前，曾经是王云众多仰慕者中的一个。在网上看到有王云的照片，一头长长的乌发，几乎及膝。眼睛很大很深，一个美丽与智慧并存的女人。我对她这样的人心存敬意，因为她做的是纯理论的研究；因为她研究的对象，是我们头顶灿烂的星空；也因为在如今这样务实的年月里，她依然是个诗人。
Poems from "The Book of Jade" by Yun Wang
(Storyline Press, December 2002)
The Parable of Love
A man traps a bird.
He complains of her sad, listless notes.
She wraps herself in her blue wings.
She appears dead.
He buries her in a glossy white box.
He drives a car at night
with the lights off.
He climbs into the white box
to ask her one more question.
Written in Stars
A great wall stretches
three hundred million lightyears
We are not certain of its existence
The black mirrors are embroidered
They speak to us in waves
As we breathe our thoughts are read
A cold sensation
These faint blossoms emerge
out of darkness
As we gaze they grow brighter
In the celestial ocean of dust
there are lumps that glow
there are lumps that are dark
there are voids that grow
Morning Song
You drum with your little feet
against the flesh and skin wall.
Soon, you will emerge
from the long night of waiting
into the sun:
a rush of green banners
against the azure sky,
clouds, flock of white porpoises.
Between sun and sun there will be darkness.
A mountainous cat hides the sky
with its fine, black fur.
The stars will appear to you.
A thousand thoughts will swim into you.
When it rains you will remember
sound of scarlet rivers rushing to the womb.
You will tap your little feet
watching shining rocks after rain.
The Carp
My father was the school principal. The day I was born, he caught a twenty pound carp.
He gave it to the school kitchen. All the teachers and boarding students tasted it.
Waves of mountains surrounded us. I grew up yearning for the ocean. Smoke arose from
green mountains to form clouds each morning. My father named me Cloud.
When a son was born to Confucius, the king of Lu sent over a carp as present. Confucius
named his son Carp.
The wise say a carp leaping over the dragon gate is a very lucky sign. My father says he
named me Cloud because I was born in the year of the dragon: there are always clouds
following a dragon. Confucius' son died an early death. My father has only three daughters.
When I was three, I wandered all over the campus. A stray cat in a haunted town. My mother
says I passed the room where my father was imprisoned. He whispered to me, hid a message
in my little pocket. It was his will that I should grow up a strong woman, and find justice
for him.
They caught me. My father was beaten to near death. Some of them were students, whose
parents were peasants. Some of them were teachers, who used to be his best friends. They had
tasted the carp.
It has been recorded that Confucius could not tell the difference between millet and wheat,
and was thus mocked by a peasant. This peasant became a big hero, representing the wisdom
of the people, thousands of years after Confucius' death.
My father still goes fishing, the only thing that seems to calm him. The mountains are sleeping
waves. My father catches very small fish. My mother eats them. My friends laugh at me, when
I tell them that once upon a time, my father caught a carp weighing twenty pounds.
王云擅写诗。她当年是不是清华校园诗坛的风云人物，我不知道。但她来美国多年，一直坚持写诗，用英文写。几年前她在美国出版了一本英文诗集《The book of Jade》，获得过奖（Nicholas Roerich Poetry Prize），可见她除了是一位宇宙物理科学家，还是一位名副其实的诗人。
我和王云素昧平生。只知道她来自贵州遵义。我从前很亲密的老朋友，在二十多年前，曾经是王云众多仰慕者中的一个。在网上看到有王云的照片，一头长长的乌发，几乎及膝。眼睛很大很深，一个美丽与智慧并存的女人。我对她这样的人心存敬意，因为她做的是纯理论的研究；因为她研究的对象，是我们头顶灿烂的星空；也因为在如今这样务实的年月里，她依然是个诗人。
Poems from "The Book of Jade" by Yun Wang
(Storyline Press, December 2002)
The Parable of Love
A man traps a bird.
He complains of her sad, listless notes.
She wraps herself in her blue wings.
She appears dead.
He buries her in a glossy white box.
He drives a car at night
with the lights off.
He climbs into the white box
to ask her one more question.
Written in Stars
A great wall stretches
three hundred million lightyears
We are not certain of its existence
The black mirrors are embroidered
They speak to us in waves
As we breathe our thoughts are read
A cold sensation
These faint blossoms emerge
out of darkness
As we gaze they grow brighter
In the celestial ocean of dust
there are lumps that glow
there are lumps that are dark
there are voids that grow
Morning Song
You drum with your little feet
against the flesh and skin wall.
Soon, you will emerge
from the long night of waiting
into the sun:
a rush of green banners
against the azure sky,
clouds, flock of white porpoises.
Between sun and sun there will be darkness.
A mountainous cat hides the sky
with its fine, black fur.
The stars will appear to you.
A thousand thoughts will swim into you.
When it rains you will remember
sound of scarlet rivers rushing to the womb.
You will tap your little feet
watching shining rocks after rain.
The Carp
My father was the school principal. The day I was born, he caught a twenty pound carp.
He gave it to the school kitchen. All the teachers and boarding students tasted it.
Waves of mountains surrounded us. I grew up yearning for the ocean. Smoke arose from
green mountains to form clouds each morning. My father named me Cloud.
When a son was born to Confucius, the king of Lu sent over a carp as present. Confucius
named his son Carp.
The wise say a carp leaping over the dragon gate is a very lucky sign. My father says he
named me Cloud because I was born in the year of the dragon: there are always clouds
following a dragon. Confucius' son died an early death. My father has only three daughters.
When I was three, I wandered all over the campus. A stray cat in a haunted town. My mother
says I passed the room where my father was imprisoned. He whispered to me, hid a message
in my little pocket. It was his will that I should grow up a strong woman, and find justice
for him.
They caught me. My father was beaten to near death. Some of them were students, whose
parents were peasants. Some of them were teachers, who used to be his best friends. They had
tasted the carp.
It has been recorded that Confucius could not tell the difference between millet and wheat,
and was thus mocked by a peasant. This peasant became a big hero, representing the wisdom
of the people, thousands of years after Confucius' death.
My father still goes fishing, the only thing that seems to calm him. The mountains are sleeping
waves. My father catches very small fish. My mother eats them. My friends laugh at me, when
I tell them that once upon a time, my father caught a carp weighing twenty pounds.
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