Xu Zhimo
Might as well sit down,
This bout is not a light one, I think it is
Already finished, already the whole of the
Out of the world, drifting away,
I don't know where to go. . It was as if
a lotus-like cloud had embraced me,
(with a lotus-like smile on her face)
and embraced me to a faraway place ......
Alas, I don't want to come back,
People say that it is a relief, and that is what it is, I guess!
I am like a cloud, a
pure white, pure white cloud, a little
Not see the weight, the sunshine embraces me,
I am the light, a ball of lightness,
Fly to the faraway place, fly farther away,
What is the tiredness, all the worry,
Envy, pain, resentment, all far away,
It is you who are the most important person in the world, the most important person in the world.
It's you - please give me saliva,
It's an orange, it's sweet in the mouth -
It's you, who are you to me!
And you are nowhere to be found:
And there is nothing more than a hair of green hills in the dawn light,
a wisp of silk,
a cataract of a subtle halo; and at most
there is nothing more than that, and if you want more
My cloud can't carry it,
You, you have to forgive me, my ingrate! ......
Not in the way, I'm not tired, you let me say,
I just need you to keep your eyes open, that's all,
Call for pity and sympathy, don't speak of love,
Flowering in your tears,
I'm intoxicated with their ethereal scent;
At the end of this, you and me.
One meeting, allow me to let go,
Allow me to occupy you completely,
Just this sound, let your passion,
Like the sunshine shining on a first-class stream,
Permeable my cold consciousness,
Your hands hold mine, just like this,
You see your robustness, my decline,
You look at your strong, my decline.
Allow me to feel your warmth,
Feel you flowing in my blood,
Drumming my heart that will stop for the second time,
Leaving an immortal mark:
This is my only, only prayer ......
Well, I'm going to take another sip, it's beautiful,
Thank you so much. Now you listen to me.
But what shall I say, to this day,
Everything has come to an end,
I only wait for death, for darkness,
I can still see you, and snuggle up to you,
Truly speak like a lover,
For I am not good enough to say that,
Your tenderness surrounds me like the wind in the spring,
This is an unexpected happiness for me. It is an unexpected happiness to me,
I have only thanks, (she closes her eyes.)
What words are superfluous, for
Words can only show what can be shown,
A deeper meaning, a greater truth,
Friend, you can only be recognized in my eyes,
in the eyes of withered tear-wounds
.
I am a usual person,
I cannot hope to be in the sea of people
worthy of your attention in a single turn of the eye.
You are the wind of heaven: every wave
must feel your power,
stirring change from its heart,
and every blade of grass must
bend its head at your trail, and express its wonder at the quivering of the
margin;
but who shall stop the wind's march,
who swept across the sea and makes a roar,
And sweeps the fields like a lion and a tiger,
And presently is the meditative infinity; how can he
remember ever to breathe
To the wave's one flower, the grass's one petal?
Distant is the distance between you and me;
far, too far! If a night butterfly
would one day have to be able to fly out of the sky,
to go gray in the flames of the stars
(I often think to myself) then I might
have hope of getting closer to you in time.
Alas, infatuation, there is infatuation in women,
you can't help but believe it, can you? Sometimes
I myself find it really strange,
Who put
the firm knot in my heart? Why can't I open it?
That day when I first looked at you,
you shone like a star,
I was just a little bit in the crowd,
a handful of sand,
but as soon as I looked at you,
I felt a strange vibration,
that hit me hard in all my being,
it was like a flower in the wind,
and I felt so shaken up that it was like dizziness,
and my heart was shaking. Shaking like a faint,
I felt a fire on my face,
I felt happiness, a divine
light swept over me,
I felt sadness again, I wanted to cry,
and strife took over my spiritual house.
But I didn't understand a thing at the time,
not knowing that this was falling in love!
"Falling in love," really! A former love,
a sinful debt, I wonder what it is?
But from then on I had no peace,
It was poisoned, it was hypnotized,
To teach the chains of fortune,
I could no longer hesitate: I love you!
Since then, my thoughts have been tainted with you, in my waking hours,
in my dreams, I can't hide from you,
I look up, you're in the blue sky,
I open my mouth and sing, you're in the melodious sound,
I want to forget, I run to the faraway place,
another way, and then I run into you again.
This is the first time that I've ever seen you in my life,
I'm not sure if I've seen you in my life!
In vain is the attentiveness of reason, because
I am not blind, I'm just obsessed.
But I love you, I am not selfish.
Love you, but never be near you.
Love you, but never enjoy you.
Even if you come to me,
I may look to you, but you cannot
slightly perceive my secret.
I am not jealous, not envious, because
I know that you will always be mine,
it can not be separated from me just as I
can not hide from you, other people's love
I do not know, and I do not need to know,
Mine is my own making,
just as the forest leaves in the invisible
receive morning and evening of the sunset, I too
have collected yours in the invisible.
I can, I am ready, to die
without showing a word, because I don't have to.
Death, I was looking at long ago.
The day the knot of love was tied around my
heart, I looked to death, that
beautiful world of eternity; death,
I willingly threw myself into, for it
was the birth of light and freedom.
From then on I despised my body,
much less the pomp and glory of this world,
I only aspired to a more extended
time to shelter my breath,
brilliant stars to be my eyes,
my hair, that crystalline,
was strewn with clouds beyond the heavens,
and the booming winds Hovering in my armpits
Breast brow, the waves
Rinse my shins and ankles, and each
The agitation gushes forth the light and colorful divinity!
And then electric fire did my thoughts
The sky switched up the dance of serpents and dragons,
and the thunder shook my voice, and suddenly
woke up the spring, and woke up the life.
There is no thought, no comparison,
The inspiration of love, the power of love!
Just as the mighty prism of the rising sun sweeps away
the mists of the fields, the coming of love
also does not allow the mundane, the vile, and
everything else to encroach on the mind,
it's original green and refreshingly calm sun.
Don't I say death? Much less fear,
No more doubts, no more stints
This body is as a wealthy captive;
I bravely use my time.
With my time, I say? By God,
These many years have passed at my expense!
Without friends, without home,
I cast myself into the lonely desert city,
I learned to be an old farmer among the old farmers,
in a big cloth, with straw sandals,
planting green mulberries, planting white cottonwoods,
rising up when the day was not yet light,
stirring up the mud with my hands, and putting on the heat of the sun,
and I worked, soaked to the skin with the mud, and wearing a hot sun,
with the sun, and with the sun, and the sun. I do my work, drenched with sweat,
A heart of zeal against weariness;
But by degrees I feel the fun,
Gathering up a handful of grass as if it were a treasure,
Shining my face in the muddy water,
Coating it with mud, and showing not some shame before the confessed cloudy shadows
! Nature
is my enjoyment; I love the autumnal forest,
I love the blowing of the evening wind, I love
the trembling of the withered reeds in the evening coolness,
the half-ruined red leaves fluttering to the ground,
the shadow of the crows intruding into the slanting sun's aperture;
and lovelier still is the sound of bells from the distant temples,
the interlocking of the village houses with the smoke of the cooks***doing
The quiet twilight! I finish my work,
I return at a slow pace, and in the darkness
there are flying insects coaxing, and in the sky
there are stars, and there is light in my heart!
At night I lighted a candle of wax,
and in the flames of the red flame shone
the only picture on the wall,
Jesus alone in the wilderness,
(for I have none of Thee but the one that hangs in my heart)
At the deepest hour of the night I knelt,
and looked at the picture, and made my prayer,
and said, "I am not a man of the world, but a man of the world.
At times I sing, in a low voice,
distributing my ardent sentiments
in wisps of blue smoke up to the heavens.
But who hears and who mourns?
You sit on the summit of the glorious name,
Millions of people applaud you,
I, accompanied by me, there is cold, there is darkness,
I shed tears, kneeling alone in front of the bed!
A year, another year, another year,
The crescent moon looks to the round, the round looks to the residual,
The cold geese lined up into the word, and then scattered,
Fresh color grows up on the tree that I planted with my hands,
And then called a gust of wind to scrape as ash.
I know the seasons, the stars, the moon and
the mystery of the night, the sun's might,
I know the earth, which can cultivate
a child into the beauty of the miraculous,
I also know the existence of everything,
the creepy crawlies, the birds, the grass by the river,
and then there is the interest of the countryside people, I
also know. recognize, their simplicity and
truth, I recognize them all.
Following this realization
is the joy, the love, and the fearlessness
of the encroachment of loneliness. In those three years
although my skin became coarse,
and the blackness of my face was scorched, and the chaparral was carved into my hands and feet, my heart was only thankful:
because the way that illuminated me was
love, the lamp of the gods, and the
poorness that energized me, that pushed me forward, that made me bear
more gracefully the greater poverty. >greater poverty, more danger.
You wonder, don't you, that I am capable of that?
The unthinkable is the inspiration of love!
I have heard of a
dutiful daughter in ancient time, who, to save her father
dared to go up and violate the king's heavenly authority,
that was driven by pure love I believe.
I have also heard that in the middle ages of France
there was a countrywoman named Joan of Arc,
who one day suddenly took off
her village dress, and threw away her sheep,
put on her military dress and took her sword, and led
100,000 soldiers, and shouted "Kill the thieves,"
and rushed through the country. p>
and broke through the enemy's encirclement,
saving the whole country, that too must be
love! For only love can give men
incomprehensible valor and courage,
only love can open one's eyes,
to recognize truth, to recognize worth, only
love can make men all-embracingly energetic,
to break forward, for the sake of a single goal,
forgetting that fire is capable of burning, and that water is capable of drowning.
Just as there is no life on this earth
without light and heat, so there could not be, but for love,
that source of light and heat of the spirit,
all things bright and marvelous
.
Ah, I understand!
I am not ashamed to say, "I know,"
for God knows that I have spent years,
alone, as a weak woman,
throwing myself into calamitous regions,
walking thousands of miles in the wind,
having to suffer the misery of starvation and cold,
and all that is not to be named, in the name of the Lord, and of the Lord.
And all the unnameable
suffering is enough to write a few books,
for what? For what purpose
I look at every elderly disaster victim
without asking whether he is an old man or an old woman,
as if he were a biological parent,
and every son and daughter as if they were my own
blood and blood, and even if I can't give them
salvation, at least blow a few mouthfuls of hot air of
sympathy onto their
faces, and tell them to take a break from me and to take a break from me. That they may feel from my hand
a kindred spirit living entirely in the
purity of love?
For what willingness to feed and slurp
on a diet that normally beggars would disdain, to swallow decay and filth
as if it were a tasty paste; to work as if you
had seen something rare in a village where the stench of corpses could intoxicate
people? For
what? For the sake of "I know", my friend,
don't you believe it? I don't say, and I can't
say, because I have an
impossible love in my heart and so I give out
full of heat in the other direction, and
maybe I can do the same even if I don't know about the love,
who knows, but I
always have to be grateful for that, because from you
I get the consciousness of life and
the point of light in my heart. >at the point of light within me,
and from the submergence of consciousness extradited
to a spiritual clarity, and again
from thence a faint aura of wisdom
to the infinite courage of the spirit.
Ah, if you could only imagine my watchfulness one night in the time of the
plague land!
The same sky, the same stars,
I looked up alone in the wilderness, or by the bridge, or by the hedge of the village with a few clusters of
remaining blossoms, when every
light in the sky had a significance for me, and I drank in the beauty of them as
music, the marvellous The flavor flows
through
to the innermost organs and bones, and openly
I bear this gift without feeling
vain and ashamed, for I know that
though not selfless labor wears out the body, it cleanses
our orifices as a glaze, and facilitates the unimpeded passage of the light of heaven.
I am a man who is not a man of the world, and who is not a man of the world.
I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? But I
have spoken to my last
return, and thou must
listen to it to the end, even though thou be weary, for no other chance
will ever come, and look upon my face
burning red as the blossom of a pomegranate;
this is the last flame of life,
and I am thankful to thee that thou dost from time to time dip sweet waters
in my throat, or
I must have gasped and choked to death long ago.
Your "knowing" is my joy.
My moments are numbered,
and I cannot help but hurry!
I have spoken of how I have learned to farm, how I have reached out
into the devil's den of calamity
with a tender hand of struggle,
and I have spoken of the comfort of my spirit
and of my not feeling guilty about the stars in the heavens.
But I am human is weak after all,
and soon my body got sick,
and the poison of the storm soaked into the fiber,
brewing a rampant heat. My brother
brought me home from my fainting blindness,
and I wondered that I did not die that time,
perhaps because there was another sin
that I must suffer on earth. They
told me to marry, and I could not put it off.
I might have rebelled if my
love for thee had been inferior,
but because mine is not a measure of time and space
I do not care for
the length of a minute or a second, and I am
a bride, and I am also a mother, though
Heaven forbid that my blood should remain.
I have been a puppet these years,
a pile of clay at my mercy;
though I have thought of you at times,
this thought is as I think of
a sunset in the western sky or of a flower,
no less and no more. Meanwhile
sickness, replying again and again, pinched
my shell, and I had long been ready to die,
with a beautiful secret in my arms,
and to deliver the light of eternity to the
endless netherworld. If I had
a mother I might not have been able to bear
not to let her know, but she is long
dead, and I am even less tainted; I
can't bear to have a smile ripple up the corners of my mouth every time I think about it
.
I think I'll die and turn my
secrets into benevolent winds and rain,
into rainbows that point to hope,
into moss on stones that are lush and green
drowning their stubbornness; into the dance of wings in the
darkness, and the song of birds in
farming time; into the water's
fair writing ; into waves,
forever proclaiming the aptitude of the universe;
into the moon's tragic green adding deep color to every
sleeping child's dream;
into the wonderful music among the stars of the lineage ......
the final transformation is unforeseen;
the heavens have called me to fail to meet the desirable heart's desire
And called to leak in hot delirium
The pearl within my bosom! But I
never dreamed that thou couldst come,
that thou of flesh and blood, and I of flesh and blood,
couldst nestle together in the hour of my death,
and that I should say, and thou shouldst hear, and thou shouldst hear, and I should say. It is strange.
This is the gathering of life!
Now I
can really, really die, I want you
to hold me like this until I go,
until my eyes don't open again,
until I fly, fly, fly to space,
dispersed into the sand, dispersed into light, dispersed into the wind,
Ah the bitterness, but the bitterness is short,
is temporary; Happiness is long,
Love is immortal:
I, I'm going to sleep ......
Done at six o'clock in the evening of December 25
Notes on the work
Written on December 25, 1930, and first published in Poetry Magazine, No. 1, January 20, 1931, signed by Xu Zhimo.