Haotian Wang

Border Town Fair

她说 看

远方的云彩

摊开诗 默读着

观察着 叹息着

我的手 化作风 握成沙

爱不爱 这沧山 与“海”

我的疤 抚作泥 泪成雨

任涟漪 编织 蓑衣

穹顶之下

泉眼 流出了云彩

​

//

​

She said

Look at the cloud

Opening up its poetry, reading

Observing, sighing

My hands are wind, quicksands

dark green mountains, oceans adrift

My scars painted dirt

Their ripples knit my wooden cape

Under the doom

Clouds flow from the mouth of a spring

Clouds

那是田里的油菜 倒映着云彩

还有我路过溪边的倒影啊

那是夹杂着雨露的阳光啊

洒过窗边 还有阿婆的饭菜香呐

我站在望不见理想的高原上

看远方的城市和废墟的边缘

飞机飞过我也不知向何方

让我就这样站在云端之下

​

//

​

Ocean of oilseed mirrors the clouds

Reflections surface the mountain stream

Smell of rain, sunlight and Grandma

Penetrate my window sill

Cooking

Here I am, standing on highland

Looking out from fringe city

Airplane above

Motionless,

I stand underneath the clouds

Karst Cave

It was once said 

a flock of black-headed gulls

stripped off their bathing suits

filled up the ocean, with twigs and pebbles

turned scattered blue

into a forest of statues

left a nest castled on emerald trees

sands boil

dusts penetrate 

into a maze, zigzag, bridge, a lava lake

At the intersection 

of underground rivers and waterfalls

I see the end of shadow city

Anthropocene murals unfold,

burn my torch light

purple crystals echo on my skin

when the reverse compass rotates my time

I see the shimmers

Cabin

In and out of the woods

Red dirt trails, the stream

A bridge, 

Lying in the mountain’s hands

in front of me

Am I forgetting?

I tried to wear the lake on my back

Flip my wings

Run, Run

Down a swirling road

into a tree hollow

Back in my cabin

Rolling, rolling

Sounds beneath my feet

Growing, growing

Lost breath 

in the wind

Rain pours up

Down

Crushes banana 

Leaves a thunder

Butterflies

away from their valley home

Drifters

Back in my cabin

Rolling, rolling

Sounds beneath my feet

Growing, growing

Locked

Empty Freeway

Segway, 

Onto the bridge over a smokey creek

Losing connections, of satellites

Me in a city of crossroads

Navigate plate, standing on a border cliff

Away from terraced mountains

Fogging up window glass, rubber trees

The turquoise water,

Awaits its passengers, 

On and go 

(weaving, breathing)

There’s something in the air

Stuck in the woods

In my dreams, astray

There’s nothing left.

Nothing but watch the rearview fade away

Camellia,

Sings its folklore with leaves

From I’m getting chills in the evening

no-man’s cafe in a service area 

Diary entries, in the backseat

you played the mixtapes, CDs

as sunset left my face

We passed clouds and tunnels

I’m counting each of ’em

Remember?

There’s something in the air.

Stuck in my empty freeway dreams. 

Nothing left.

Nothing but rearview fade away

Sunset pouring down

Composes my dreams

Under the barren ground

Across the river

with part of my skin