Having stayed up at night and got two eyes red
Autumn leaves are kraft envelopes rushed out
I spread a sheet of moonlight
On which to fully write my yearning
Then gently fold it in half
Tuck it in
And entrust a wisp of autumn wind
To take along
Before the moon appears
I just draw out of a pile of characters
Some vague words
And place them at the crossroad in the city
Ignite one after another
The miasma of the poetic circle
Where demons and monsters dance like mad
Has blocked the way for a poem to survive
Then let it go to hell
The whole prairie is her backstage
One mountain after another
Props up her body feeding on yak meat and buttered tea
Like a plateau rose willow
Amongst whose branches
bear gold and silver treasures
That can never be picked up
Sunlight has bypassed the tent
Meltinging snow
Rendering a sacred snow lotus in full bloom
Out of a deep rainy lane
Walks an umbrella
Like a patch
Which can't mend
The leaky sky
Flooding thoughts
Have submerged
The tiny path leading to my hometown
Incessant interceptions all the way by the hot summer
Cannot hold back the following steps
One booth after another
Displays verdant words
I am just a word lost in the world
Slipped from a thread-bound book
Stamped by
Footsteps to and fro
Comparing with yesterday
I don't feel anything different
A new day is like a copy of a form
The subway still leaves at dawn
In hospitals, queues waiting to register last till dusk
Hotels and restaurants suffer a slack business
Several diners sit close to the window
bending to read a menu
In streets and lanes
People are prying
News of when students will resume classes
A drove of sheep moving along the hillside
At the crack of a whip
Are driven to the sky
Tired
In whatever pose
Doze off for a while
Sometimes tearing off a wisp of sunshine
Chewing it for over half a day
The moment wind sways grass
They will scamper away
like a group of children hankering after fun
Not until dark
Do they reluctantly return to the ground
A dog suddenly squatted on the sidewalk
and discharged a pile of excrement
A woman took some toilet paper out of her bag
and clean it up
This suddenly reminded me
Those unattended old people
never complaining the offensive smell of a handful of shit and a handful of urine
had reared a gang of children
Life
By WEI Yanlie
However stiff your spine is
It cannot stand the to-and-fro sway of the wind
Whether a comedy or a tragedy
A good play is bound to come to a hasty end
Leaving on the grave stone
A line of words
As a final say