And here I am,
an instant NOW drifting away into an obscure future,
away like a swallow without eaves,
away like last years leaves finally forsaking their twigs.
I’m moved by a force not of the bang of the universe
But of a whimper , a sigh, and a consoling whisper saying
Yes hear the whimper in the morning , in the afternoon
and in the evening ,
It goes on with the diminutive energy of an aging star ,
dimmed into the velvety universe.
I drive my car across half the city chasing a shadow
more real than the flesh of many a man ,
And the discordant orchestra of the universe rattles my mind.
(III) Sailing Out
At 1 pm I go to bed and the darkness wraps me tight ,
I can finally sail out , sail out
to the open sea where the water trembles hard
as if in an intercourse before the final outburst.
And the whimper continues, the sound of a dying siren.
I set my boat to the uncharted course,
there’s no returning.
The incense burns late in this grand temple
by the sea where the sea is muzzled , tamed.
I stand at the wooden gate studded with gold,
knowing not if I should go in, hesitant like a schoolboy.
Busy tourists swarm around the goddess
and wave entrance tickets like praying flags.
30RMB, that’s the price for salvation.
In the end life is like a blank page，
Man scribbles and hopes one day,
It’ll turn into a novel or poem, admired by many.
But It’s his own eulogy for no audience.
The swan song is the empty space between lines
which has already transmuted into his being.