Chapter 3 Guitar
guitar started
Cry out a mournful sound.
Glass Sprinkles of Dawn
Fragments piled up.
guitar started
crying out mourning,
who is capable
call it pause?
make it stop again
Impossible.
A mournful cry.
make it stop again
no longer possible,
it cries
For all distant dreams,
scorching southern desert
Moaning for the white camellia,
Cry the arrow without a target,
Cry without morning or evening,
cry on the branch
The first songbird.
Ah, the guitar!one-
by five swords
piercing heart!
(Translated by Fei Bai)