Winter Day
translation from the Chinese by Ye Chun and Paul B. Roth
I
It’s winter,
even the toilets come clean.
A man squats above the hole
placing his hands quietly over his chest, like a dead frog.
Blowing the minute hairs on his anus,
so clean are these breezes.
I must first return to dust, before I can say I am dust.
I must first rise into the air, before I can say I’m flying.
II
River,
like the old couple in front of the house, dejected, monotonous.
Wheel,
like the tongue of an old dog deep in the village, rusty and lonely.
Night,
like sheep dung in stone cracks, black and scattered.
Wild flowers,
like the setting sun, splendid, endless.
