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第9章 Shipwrecked (2)

It is soul and meat reality or fantasy

In the vast territory

Riding a brown horse back and forth in the place of life and death

A nameless sorrow arises spontaneously

And the subjects of my kingdom are to be rescued from a desperate situation

Stepping into the door which refuses to open upon knocking

Presumably it is a road of survival

Though thriving and flourishing

Though enlightened from the stir of Mother’s womb

Whistling here whistling away

As a result the only way blocks the twilight of morning

It is spectacularity itself red and white between and full of daring

— The green nature has gathered up

The prosperity and nobility of the sun

As well as when and where our first step forward is taken

Isn’t that shrinking from watching and isn’t that

Fishing the moon in the sea while sighing with alas

13.

I heard a voice from beyond the world

On this piece of rotten land

There are the same footprints and the same song

It should be the harvest season before winter

But we have finally hibernated

It is finally baptism of fire and blood

All the bodies are revolving in the center of the world

It must be a disaster: the rumbling last night

Sweeps before my eyes like flashy lightning

Ever panicked but not beyond our expectation

14.

A disaster fire excites deity above the world

Hawks and rivers as company

It is eulogy it is dirge

It is storm it is lightning

It is the toll it is evening prayer …

When you see the world as real but unreal

All around yourself you will

Build a happy graveyard after another graveyard

To plant youth and joy

While burying the blue new moon

The feat has been spectacular

The sun has swum over the head for hundreds of years

The dancing flag rises sheer from level ground

Posing as wisdom of the materialist

As sovereign of the epoch even if penniless

Even if the country is destroyed the sun still shines

Brilliant land brilliant like a dream brilliant like flowers

15.

When have I ever sung the same swansong

And when do I have the experience of stepping into the same river

With the last oath I declare to the world:

No matter the living protect themselves in what way

The trend of life only similar to a broken piece of glass

Green with yellow starlight like rain

And they still depart while stepping the empty cicada chirping

Hasty and brief wading through hills sweeping across the starry sky

With a latent force to co-tap the romantic poem

It is not so much the fleet crossing the river

As the master of the river walks along the trend

Of the river while answering the solemn and stirring curtain call

Again to win tribute of the sun

16.

They are the master of mountains of rivers

Modern sense fused into traditional canon

To be the fossil that is to be worshipped

To have religious service, to pray, to sermonize

Even to write noble humanistic philosophy

The great sense of life is again raised and lowered

It contains the temptation of the King of Terrors

And the proud standing posture of the nature

Like a dream but not a dream like heehaw and like dirge

A spell after another spell of cracking clop

The rumbling sound a wave after another wave

From afar to near from near to afar

All magically change into emptiness into fullness

Soul stirring life-and-death

To restore the final funeral

17.

This is the most spectacular scene

Human body and horse face fail to match well

Recalling the past the past events run into a river

And the hard thought faces the mighty waves beating the shore

All is lost in the running without knowing the west wind is gone

The lonely castle which belongs to me is awe-inspiring

Owing to the lean breathing of my life

Because the heavy footprints

Fail to heal my hidden pain

Because the birds’ twitter

Still waits for the wan face

Is still dreaming of flight

Flying flying flying

18.

Dream. Far from the land

The master crosses his hands while clapping

In this essential world a kind of idea of life

With the coarse night

In the throes of the moaning vale

Going against the stream —

Even if the howling of a black wolf

Tears the starry sky of the long night the countless

Distant and mysterious calling

Pluck the field of life —

Empty, vast and boundless

To cater to the laughing or crying of the crowd when drowned in riot

19.

O, the field of life

With an insurmountable endurance

Tolerates all, but I labor under it

And pin the crime on the vicious hands of somebody

Now I only shed a few drops of bitter tears

Meanwhile standing at the bank

Sudden enlightenment to rivers and the natural disposition of mountains

O, the field of life —

My sea of life and sea of deity

As if haunting like a dream

I will attach myself to your pain

To encourage the comers-on

To compile survivors of time

Wading the river of torrents running

Among limitless and boundless Gobi

The commanding height which cannot be reversed by the ultimate life

Even if someday

We choose a maimed and miserable night

The reality of life transcends the brilliant starry night

And peerless dreams

Transcends the source of vales

Above life

20.

Thus we choose the night

We choose the loessland

We choose the moment of dawn

Even if it is flourishing

Even if life and death and death and life

But still whistling and neighing

Still calling the master of mountains the master of rivers

To resort to wine to resort to rivers

Through life through pain through death

Through brand-new streets, factories

Squares, palaces, and buildings under the new moon

21.

By dint of this sincere ship of soul

Crossing the eternal river

Will never realize

The cruel scene of dark night

Like gazing across the sea

Like a piece of cloud

Like a fact which has never been for hundreds of years

The son pays the debt for Mother

Inscription has ever been carved on the rock

And I can read distinct words: shells, grass leaves, stars

Then walking straight to the riverbank

To enjoy solitarily

The years for a tree to grow

Contain countless footprints which are forgotten

Along the cold winter

In the shadow of doomed death

Warmth rises now

The storm attacks the endless desert while

A pair of lovers are madly in love

But when the nightfall falls

Only a few words are left behind:

“When I die I would die in your bosom …”

22.

O, the silent earth

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