Page 87 - 旷野诗选

萌芽篇 Sprouting

guard the slim posture firmly.
The gaunt stem
takes pity on itself.

Who
pierces the pure and snowy,
confining the free stretching?
Nightingale ——
resting on here for a while,

please do not whine plaintively
to reveal endless sorrows.
Moon,

take more care of
that missing path,
all brightness enveloped by darkness.
Who can rescue you
out of the ceaseless palpitations with fear?

How could you know and believe
in the bondage?
Allow me to linger here,

and to curse the evil claws.
Wake up, wake up.
Let my faint rays
illuminate your ignorance.
Has

your mother
forgotten you?
She locks you down

on the
gloomy land?
You could do nothing but

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