I Stroke You With All My Years
Bei Ling
going down, all the way, like a dream
night, the earth is an unwound spring
mud-rock falls down the hillock
refugees hurry the wind
oh, unforgiving climate
you fill me up with your weariness
as frailty fills up a rich man’s coat
an age is dying out
the wing of its heavy dream sags
its failing tendency, like the sinking sun
echoes in the ruins
how heroic! Old World
I stroke you with all my years
stroke, and demand splendid poems
–translated from the Chinese by Jin Zhong and William Slaughter