Poetry: Yang, Shan-Tsun

Lullaby I

Release the tight bowstring
Music flicking drops of hunting
Fertilize blooming dreamlands 
When feathers
are made back to wings
Before the leaf veins drain her tears
Ripples can't shake
The stiff tendons of the lamb 
Thirsty eyes thrive
Wait till the grey dawn
Cover the ridges of her face
Anemic stars
Will count and count
The baby teeth you hide away
Fire and light along the valley
Ripped through lichen
Then shadows
are made back to bodies

Lullaby II

Take off the pajamas dyed by stars
On your tiptoe
Open all the tenderness
Wait for her to fall into your arms
Yet they missed each other again 
Drifting in the pale season
Her eyes are in the pool
Shinning with uncertainty
but always transparent
Clothed in broken fishing nets
You practiced alone
Against the ice mirror
Retracting and releasing your heart
As the full moon rises
Still you can't help but imagine
The night which is getting rougher and darker
will eventually crush our soul
And warp them tightly

A Thousand Nights of Blind Stars

The chilling mountain reveals
a rigid back of violet dew
When dusk falls
on a pair of butterfly wings
and inlay skulls with silver in vain
Where the exterior and interior meets
This is the end
Fracture of flint
Rubbing silence and ooze blood
The tinder in your eyes
flew towards animal horns that shines
A thin puff of smoke
Cannot blow away the heavy future
Yet our imagination overflows 
the outline of skins

Cultivator on the Barren

The roots are entangled in the dirt 
between fingers
I saw wrinkles engraved 
on collapsing stone tablets
Someone cultivate
Grasses of green rubs against each other
The cattle have left honest footprints 
On the ridge
Jewels never skimp on dazzling
He squinted
Unsure about whether it is sweat
or the galaxy
condensed into a string of beads
What I only know is
you have always been nobles
When the wind full of fragrance come
I will fall
in order to enrich the land beneath your feet
I will melt
to absorb all the sorrow of seas
I will die towards the blue shadow
Thousands and thousands of times
Just to let the light of tomorrow
awake the sleeping seeds

The Recycle of Demand and Supply

Tell a lie
Truth will speak for you
In the pen stuffed with blank paper
Internal injuries rolled in circles
Sawing wood and wound
There the iced loneliness
Jumped into the sun
Atmosphere cries
and wet the whole night sky
Strike a match
Despair will burn for you
But on this silent earth
I am a cigarette soaked in rain
don't even need you 
to come and trample me out


We weave threads of light into a curtain
Aging hearts are afraid of heat
Behind the dusty windows
People are aching to hide memories 
Will this train take us 
to who to where to when
If It all begins with a mistake
Can we still enjoy the view on the way?
Our soul grows heavier each day
in a weakening shell
Yet willing
Asking at every port we reach
Will you recognize me?

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