M O  F E I
_________________

TWO POEMS

 

Translated by Charles Borkhuis and Cheng Wei

 

 

Deep Blue

 

There, in the sky I saw your words torn apart like papers.
There, in the sky I saw a sort of deep blue I had never seen before.
Thus, in each other's arms we remained. Leaves were hurling down to the ground,
So light in my arms, the not so-round moon rose behind the peaks.

In your dreams you were swimming in the waves, rolling up from the depth of the valley.
The cold, silent night of the smoke tree woods made the poet draw fire against himself.
Full of the fragrance of the mountains, the festival
Brought with it the clouds and smoke of the past days.

Now we have come to the age to talk of things past. What is
Is what is. What is not is not.
When I begin to believe what you believe,
The trees become so isolated from one another.

 

n e x t

 

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