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Huang Xiang, a brief biography

Posted by ZorGui & Walser on February 14, 2011 at 11:44 AM

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I C O R N

A Wandering Soul

In memory of Wang Ruowang, writer of conscience

漂泊之魂

For a long time

early every morning

the old man would say to his wife

A man with the hardest bones

whispered the weakest words

as hefty as gold nuggets

in the eyes of the world

You could no longer grasp anything

not the fog-dampened

birdsongs, not even the crying of your

sons and daughters who had rushed

to your bedside

You are gone

No more will another man

say to me

I'm scared

No more

will an old man wander alone

living in dejection

like finding himself on a planet

completely uninhabited

No more will there be a second

a third...

O Lord

let the first be the last

give us no more a skeleton

its flesh stripped by

the crocodile of indifference

or chilling loneliness

like a block of ice

too hard to smash

no more

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Posted by ZorGui & Walser on January 27, 2011 at 5:20 AM

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