Fleeing Sapphires (their fingers flow with joy and sorrow...)

Author: Zhang Jiawei
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-06-01
Features: A new work by a renowned youth writer from China and abroad, collectively showcasing their profound interpretation of youth and their firsthand experiences with love!
Duo Duo, now there is a man who is leading me back to God. He tells me stories about Jesus over the phone, enduringly. I listen intently, holding my breath, as the phone line crackles with static, yet every word he speaks is crystal clear. That deep night, my heart was as calm as a lake. Later, he preached the gospel to me, sitting beside me. His fingers were long and pale, pointing to those mystical drawings. I listened quietly, letting myself be fully absorbed. He longed so much for me to convert to God, sooner, even immediately. — Li Meng, About Love and the Passage of Time
As I first stepped onto the banks of the Amstel River, listening to the crisp sound of my heels tapping the pavement, I always imagined I had spent my angelic girlhood here, in a navy uniform and white socks, skipping school, watching the lazy river flow by, strutting around with the pose of someone who had just emerged from a movie set in Wisconsin, blaming the world for not paying enough attention to me, while on the green nights by the mosquito-infested river, seducing the names of the past. Now she once again examines the Kiss in her hands. The lips of the lovers in the sculpture are frozen at that mysterious position, they never kissed each other: a moment that neither began nor ended. Now she only remembers that on that day, she kept forgetting to say to her older brother Lulin, "I am Francesca, the most immoral woman in all of Europe." — Green Tea (Netherlands), The Kiss
Perhaps all I possess is the undying Before and After, the only memory that did not fade with Hao. Because I never accept reality, on every moonlit night, I persist in gazing at the sky. I see Hao's soul hidden among the stars, still sitting quietly. The same habitual posture, a slight smile on his lips, his brow trembling, softly singing his song. Sunshine surges all around, and I see the flowers blooming and fading around Hao, the fragrance of lilacs lingering. — Ye Ming, Before and After
Their fingers flow with joy and sorrow, all because of an accidental encounter with lilacs. You are amazed by my free flight, but you don’t know I’m about to depart. I give you a journey of love, and you give me a long past. The blooming period of lilacs is endless, what will the scenery be like this year? Days grow and shrink, grow and shrink. The love of youth was just a romantic shower of lilac petals in the afternoon. She said she loved the bitter and dreamlike fragrance of lilacs. Since her youth, when she first saw these bright flowers in her middle school garden, she decided never to love the blue globe covered in colorful patterns, the practice book filled with plum-like grids, and the multicolored crayons. She also said that the petals of lilacs were as soft as a baby’s lips. — Zhang Jiawei, The Runaway Lilacs