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You -I-Sense-Black


   Not a descendant of Chinese dragon
   If you were
   You would be a hybrid of two animal species
   Are not a child of Yellow River, either
   Yellow River has been drying up at the foot of Great Wall of China
   Now what flows
   Is a vomit from Qinghai-Tibet Plateau
   Creating no life
   Should be even less a posterity of ancient Chinese
   An internecine nationality
   That has already killed up all the integrity and spirit
   Where is the brightness across million kilometers
   What is a civilization of five thousand years
   You are you
   Also drinking White Liquor
   The blown smoke ring also has a dream
   Climbing up
   I can also lie on a slate of bluestone
   Having the bones pile into a statue
   And having its eye pits drawn as a symbol of death
   To tell people
   There is no way out
   I may also sneak into the crowd
   Chewing gum
   Wandering around
   Casting a glance the bare legs of that girl
   Making eyes
   And appearing to have touched a plump ass
   With a look of satisfaction
   But, buddy!
   I know
   Remaining legs and broken arms at Liubukou were also plump
   Oh! My eyes are soaked with blood
   Gripping my head to hit against a street lamppost
   Girl, forgive my vulgarity
   This world
   Is a grave of wise men
   Sense is still there
   But just like a fickle girl
   Having already altered her face
   Tiananmen Square
   Has lightly turned into a pile of floating redness
   The marble balustrades of the Monument
   After the focus in the distant
   Are numerous eyes burned through
   The heavy bricks and stones on the Square
   Are various sampans sinking down
   Which can no longer afford to bear the despair and sorrow of Chinese people
   Sense can no longer be gripped
   It is pieces of paper flying in wind
   That a group of ragpicking children are chasing
   Has been pulled very, very long
   You have never smoked
   Holding your hands I want to say
   Whichever way may be
   Unable to lead us going until tomorrow
   Yet you have turned night around
   It is a girl with big eyes
   Holding her shattered skull
   My God! That look
   Has made me sleepless in my life
   If I have still got any impulse
   I would hug the sexy foot of the girl
   Tightly against my chest
   If there still is a dream
   Do not be by Lake Ontario
   Counting all of the gray hairs
   If still palpitating with eagerness
   Run up the National Tower
   Let the storm wash away the sadness in heart
   Since then, the blush is no longer due to shyness
   My long flying hair
   Is furious black
   Spring 1990
(2012/09/14 发表)
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