Xu Zhimo

Author: Xu Zhimo
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2002-01-01
Features: In the mist of dawn, the little grass flower—how could this be mere chance, the petite wild flower! You gently hold fresh dew drops, trembling, like a flower moth yearning for the light, in the darkness, longing for the brilliance of the clear sky and rosy clouds. I am passing through this patch of grass, suddenly feeling a sense of melancholy and surprise. In this mist, beneath the cliffs, I ponder, tears welling up—life and fresh dew? A yellow warbler flashes past, its colors alight upon the tree. "Look, a pair of yellow warblers!" someone exclaims. With its tail held high, it remains silent, its vibrant glow illuminating the dense foliage—like spring, like fire, like passion. We wait for it to sing, watching quietly, afraid to disturb it. But as it spreads its wings, it breaks through the dense leaves, transforming into a colorful cloud; it flies away, vanishing—like spring, like fire, like passion.
The day you approached a small stream, I said, "I'll carry you across," you replied, "No." "Then I must help you," I said, but you again replied, "No." "You go first," you said, "This water is so beautiful!" "I'd rather be a fish, a blade of grass, growing and sleeping in the scenery, shedding worries, no longer crying; now look! I leap like a koi!" A flash of brilliance, and you had already leaped across the water. Lightly touching the ground, you were filled with laughter, like willow strands, your waist swaying gracefully; the water ripples were filled with the shimmer of koi scales!
Wild geese Wild geese fly in the sky, watch their wings, watch their wings, sometimes winding, sometimes hurried. Wild geese fly in the sky, the sunset glows on them, the sunset glows on them, sometimes silver, sometimes golden. Wild geese fly in the sky, listen to their songs! Listen to their songs! Sometimes sorrowful, sometimes joyful. Wild geese fly in the sky, why do they soar? Why do they soar? Do they lack companions? Do they have a home? Wild geese wander in the sky, the world is about to grow dark! The world is about to grow dark! No more daylight ahead, where will the children fly? The world sleeps in darkness, darkness bewitches the mountains, darkness lulls the seas; who listens to the sorrow that rises in the darkness.
You go, you go, I will follow. We part here; you take that big road, go with peace, see how the streetlights shine all the way to the horizon, just follow this straight line of light! You go first, I stand here watching you, take light steps, don't raise the dust; I will make out your retreating figure until the distance blurs it. Otherwise, I will call out your name, reminding you that I am here to dispel the desolation of the empty street and the deep night. Watching you go away.