A moth, (two poems)

By X. Z. Shao

 

A moth,

dead on a piece of paper,

seemed alive .

I dusted it into the air

from my sixth-floor balcony.

It flew in the morning sunlight,

whirling downward,

swaying in the wind,

like a light flower,

hilarious and happy,

under the magic of gravity.

How beautiful

its last journey was

towards eternity.

       Morning, 2015/11/22

 

一只飞蛾，

X. Z. Shao

 

一只飞蛾，

死在一张纸上，

却看似活着。

从六楼阳台，

我把它轻弹到空中。

在奇妙引力作用下，

它飞翔在晨光中，

旋转下行，

随风摇摆，

像一朵轻盈小花，

心情愉快兴高采烈。

飘向永恒，

多美啊，

它最后的旅程！

       早晨，2015/11/22

I greet campus cleaners

By X. Z. Shao

 

I greet campus cleaners

the way I greet my friends.

I consider them rich and dignified

as the richest on earth.

It may be a twister.

How about this:

a million bucks

for one of your fingers,

ten millions for your hand,

and your head off

for all the world’s wealth.

If you don’t want to take it

Then, you are the richest.

I see so many walk with all gold

and cry and stretch their hands for more.

They classify themselves

as poor and inferior

and prostrate under

those who they consider

as rich and superiors.

              2015/11/22