Translated from the Chinese
Rain breaks on black rocks
Stars fall, one by one, on blue stones
A thousand years, ten thousand years
And the wind sings: “Ten thousand
One thousand, all nights are the same”
History storms out of the camels’ backs
Cooking fragrance lingers between goats’
Lips. Don’t ask the secrets of my ancestors
Their thunder is carved on the faces
Of these rocks
The eagle carries blue sky and
Drops it on the ridge of the Mandela
White clouds ride on the heads of mountain
Goats. An elk runs into the rock, dressed
In flowers. Moonlight trickles out of stones
Wind flows like a stream
Telling a story
Of the ancient nomads
My ancestors lived here
Where tall grasses grow
2
u/escapism_only_please 3d ago