Autumn

As if we had experienced on this equivocal earth
a thousand years of love! Autumn remains
autumn. There remain, yellow as a quince,
the faces of people chased by war.

We are fish rotting alive
rotting rotting rotting rotting

Above the earth hangs the sky, heavy abdomen
of a pregnant woman.  With faces identical forever
we have spent a culture thousands of years old. Iron
boots ravish our dreams of our women.

We are deserted houses by the roadside
sinking, in front of these empty windows, in the distance
 

                    transl. by Liang Ching-feng and Andreas Weiland
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

These and other poems by Pai Ch'iu were published in English
in Jietou / Street # 1 (1977)