Chapter 4 The End or the Beginning --- Dedicated to Yu Luoke

The End or the Beginning --- Dedicated to Yu Luoke I stand here in place of another killed for whenever the sun rises Let the heavy shadows be like roads across the country sad fog Covered with patched roofs between house and house Chimneys belching ash-like crowds Warmth blows from the bright treetops stay on the cigarette butts of poverty one by one tired hands low dark clouds rise in the name of the sun Darkness plunders openly Silence is still the story of the East people on ancient murals live forever silently die silently oh my land why don't you sing anymore Could it be that the ropes of the Yellow River trackers

also like broken strings no more ringing Is time the dark mirror I will always turn my back on you Only stars and clouds are left I am looking for you in dreams again and again a foggy night or morning I look for spring and apple trees A breeze drawn by bees I look for the tide of the coast The sun on the wave crest turns into a flock of gulls I'm looking for legends built into the walls your and my forgotten names if blood makes you fertile on the branches of tomorrow ripe fruit will leave my color must admit In the white cold light of death I tremble who wants to be a meteorite

or the cold statues of the victims Looking at the unquenchable flame of youth passed in the hands of others even if the dove falls on its shoulders I can't feel body temperature and breath they preen their feathers flew away in a hurry I am human i need love I long to be in the eyes of my lover spend every quiet evening in the rocking of the cradle Waiting for my son's first call on grass and leaves in every sincere gaze I write poems about life this ordinary wish Now it's the whole price of being human in my life i lied many times but always faithfully abide by

a childhood promise Therefore, that with the child's heart incompatible world never forgive me I stand here in place of another killed no other choice where i fell there will be another person standing up The wind is on my shoulders twinkling stars on the wind maybe one day The sun turned into a shrunken garland hanging on every immortal warrior In front of the tombstone growing like a forest crows, fragments of the night one after another