a child licks the candy wrapper; the treat has fallen into the mud.
those who sing romance of west chamber under wintersweet trees, nearly all lonely elders.
the stones cast into the lake, all of them have returned to shore.
the wilted flowers, blooming from the tips of branches once more.
tents leaking in a storm, not the fault of the rain.
melons and fruits rotting and decaying, not the will of the weather.
please let winds return to the wind’s midst, let lightning hide in the sleeves.
love returns to the act of loving, two little fingers hooked onto one another.
when the hands of clocks have stopped moving
the repairer of time, they are already on their way here.
Read the original poem in Chinese here.