Sign of Blue

The painting of the cloudy sky

was created
senselessly 

by a single impetuous brushstroke of

grey, where

life grew involuntarily

striving for

the faintest hint

of

 blue

Memory of Prairie

Thus I had a silent view:
Under the gray sky
I lay on the ground waiting for a storm -
but the storm never came, only I saw
a Tibetan man with long sleeves*
riding horse across highland

The clouds hang low,
dense and white, like snow
I rode horse chasing the clouds,
but they stayed the distance,
like the never-ending horizon

Reflected in water were clouds
The river ran but the clouds remained
Once again I lay on the ground waiting for the storm
once again, the storm never came
only I saw
the Tibetan horseman passing through
with his long sleeves
waving over the highland


*Long sleeves, Tibetan style of clothing. 
(translated/rewrote from my early Chinese poem )


记忆 

我有了这样的宁静
深灰色的风中没有声音
倒在光秃的地上欲听出今夜的风雨
却看见有人拖着长袖走过草地

头顶的云很密
并不掉下像是雪一样轻
我骑快马而去
也总是那远山
总是那白云

河里有它得到影
河水流过冲不走白云
我听不见风雨扑到在草地
那人的长袖拂过我头顶

February Sky

February sky

opaque, like a piece of

frayed canvas,

stretched silently

behind an old stone bridge - 

underneath

weeping water runs 

for

centuries

Let me…

Let me
lie down like ocean
sleep for thousands years
embrace the history
with my turbulent waves

Let me
stand up like the Sun
wake up stars
spread my energy
to the end of universe

Let me
explode my love
like volcano
melt the whole sky
with the heat, that melts the steel

Let me
fly to a height
where I can have the God’s view
reach the eternity
dissolve myself
Into
sky blue