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第10章 Shipwrecked (3)

That is the son starting off on the distant horseback

From ancient times to now the concept of real time has never been decoded

Or there are more followers to gaze: behind existence

The hidden philosophy is veiled softly

Or gazing at the boundless view at the bank

Under brilliant sunshine step by step into the abyss

Or hearing in the moment of despair

The riotous clop shined upon by the bloody clouds

Or at century end the toll of New Year blows the bright moon round

And hurrying back into nest and receding to tide

Or to vainly blow a gust of chilly wind into the vessel

Of the creek and to cruelly beat the black river

And to painfully gaze at the starry sky to finish the lonely echo

23.

Or the septicemia squirming in the body

To be stranded by image owing to momentary wrong love

Or never to realize death

When death befalls

To trace the pledge of contract

To penetrate the desire of life

To encounter death at the bank

Or the spring wind steps night dewdrops into pieces

A foot sinking into dawn

The unspeakable thought surges in the mind

And is filled with blood plasma with brains

For ages no funeral for the living

Helpless with the deep pain

To pour out the heart of yore

Or a stem of lotus blossom growing out of the smudge

Attempting to tangle and snarl attempting to scale the treetops along the river

Forever to perch at the similar shrine

24. Or a withering heart in vain

Wet through in the rain

And is nowhere to be seen

Only echo of the empty vale

To blow to the horizon in nameless phantom

Or in summer only an old ship

Is fluctuating with the rising and falling of the tides

But still unquiet and turbulent

Still yearning for long

Therefore we own more winters

But at the near bank

To miraculously bear the sun and the moon and the stars

While watching the coming of another winter

In the crazy field

When we surge to you with smiles

You are not moved in the least by us

Rather a mean and ferocious visage is revealed

While kidnapping away my only unprecedented existence

25.

When the feeble body winds up the mountain

A bellyful of worries take root in the lonely wasteland

In standing posture to plant into the depth of earth

Perhaps it is the clear sky

Only the laughter of a few blossoms of scorching sun hanging in heaven

There is an open ground which has a high opinion of itself

To harvest youth fate and fantasy

And in the dream to intrude in the home of other people

A blind eye is turned to such nights

In the height of summer how to have the heart

To leave the cut traces of time

Perhaps time is eternal

The earth is eternal

Human beings are eternal …

26.

Like a vast sea, like a forest

Like the sea and the river

The starry sky overhead

Like a newborn baby at birth

The mouth corner is covered with blood

It is each blade of grass that is sparkling with dewdrops

Or it is our ankles

That touch the silent earth

Gradually stepping toward the abyss

Jumping to the feet

To become the descendents of rivers and mountains

Tantalizing

After thunderbolt

When a red, red sun

Rises from the east

Thousands of people are life-oriented

Freedom as dancing

Sliding into the deepest corner of history

And we begin to recall

The vast land endless fog and snow

With its bubbling laughter

Over the bank following the steps of footprints

27.

This is the trend of river

The wasteland knocks at the wasteland

And I stand at the bank with feet spread wide

Gazing at the wheat ears of high autumn which lower their heads

Sparsely rolling across a large stretch of wasteland

But without knowing how much sorrow it is

How much fantasy is with me

Now, the penetrating toll still lingers here

Like the feet of my love wading across the riverbank of dusk

To intuitively perceive the lonely night of the shepherd

28.

In the same moonlight

Recalling the distant past events

And large blossoms of floating cloud that contain the throes of birth

To perceive the stretch of blue behind your back

Things have changed with the passage of time without knowing it is fortune or disaster

Kissing the bare feet

To make them escape like running blood

Shed tears like running blood

Even make them fly from a shame into a rage

Revolting into the head of a bull

But what I concern most is my steps over water

How to make it through submerged reef and trough

Through the fine shadow of grasses

Or how to steady oneself on the deck

29.

Listening to the calling of wind

The calling of rain

The calling of thunder

And the breath of torrent rushing past the breast

On my fully laden ship

To carve down your uneasiness and commotion

Therefore the subjects of my kingdom surge here in crowds

To hastily stand at the entrance to winter

Until the setting sun slants westward while still examining one’s own face

And quite hard to imagine a pair of extended hands

In the shadow of stones to become strange friends to each other

But I shall never feel cold or depressed

Because life itself should be a transparent skin

The skin of people, the skin of grass and the skin of tableland

Or the wailing of running water and floating cloud contained

In the line of vision of time and fire

To hand over a wheel of sun

Attempting to give off light

So as to go with him

Remorseless tearless

30.

Distant is the rumbling of war drum

And the killing sound of time

— Soughing is the autumn wind

Fruit upon fruit leap out of the water surface

Quietness in motion

A moving and leaping picture

Bare at the arms of giants like a corpse

Which unfolds the reposeful body

This is the last funeral for you and for me

No matter who first reaches the other bank

Eventually a bonfire is to be burned behind the body

Echoing each other to become the blood plasma of rhythmic movement

Or to breathe hastily waves upon waves

31.

And we stamp our feet at the bank

While measuring the bloody head

To elevate it above water into a standing posture

Unfolding the four limbs drinking the black therein —

To make a nest in puzzlement to obstinately defend the empty wilderness

32.

But it does not belong to my silent river

And only a distant gazing

This is the peak of peaks

I turn back to shout at the feet of the mountain

Seeking along the empty vale echoing

A plaintive tune

33.

From that shore to this shore

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