back then we sailed a big boat on the river
at dawn
back then our collars were frayed but clean
back then we didn't tire
that was when we were young
we were single
we didn't ask for wages
we drank river water
and faced the sun
blue corridors opened and closed
red-painted wheel turned behind us
the deck was unbearably crowded
strangers slept atop one another
back then we had no home
just a window
we had no experience
we were the farthest from understanding
the sharp prow with its ancient rust folded through foam
wind stung our cheeks
burned our eyelids as we slept on the canopy
motionless, we watched
meanders turn black beneath day's shade
an overpowering scent of mint flashed by
flaying us open
snowdrifts on the main road quickly go grey
we throw back our heads to drink,
swallow the sheen of great river
目录:
Autumn
On the Great Plain a Great Snow Seals off the Mountains
Swan
Words West of the Vineyard
Death is a Tiger Butterfly
Wolves Walk Atwain
The Nightjar at Dusk
Apery
Wasted Towns and Broken Rooms
Thicketing of Shadows
Toothache
Red
The Mountain Spirit
A Bird Calls on a Flowered Branch
A Village of One
Liu Liangcheng: Literature Only Begins Where the Story Ends