A poem, for the past years, rain, snow and wind & all thoughts.

The sunset is time’s Adam’s apple — 
Each day I watch it lodge at the golden summit of western hills
My shadow and I
Remain silent for ages
The motorway by the building, like an artery,
Frantically ferries the twilight
Mist escapes the mountains’ encirclement, smokestacks in the distant expanse
Suddenly seem incongruous
Everything shall come to pass. My shadow and I
Steel ourselves against one another
Like sunset-stained vine veins sprouting thorns
Nearby, mallards call from the river
The abbey begins its vespers
Let us not lose heart, feigning life
In this purely human realm

Author Note:

This is a Chinese poem written by the author, at 2019.

© 人与壁画

落日是岁月的喉结
每一天我看着它噎在金黄色的西山顶
我与我的影子，都会
沉默很久
楼旁的高速公路像支血管
争分夺秒地搬运着暮色
薄雾脱离了群山的围剿，远处广垣的烟囱
恍然有些突兀
总会了结的。我与影子彼此
相互鼓足了劲
像夕阳晕染过的藤脉长出了刺
不远处，河水里传出水鸭的响声
教堂里开始诵经了
让我们不要失去信心，自己仿佛活着
在这纯粹的人间

Yes... Time passes in a blur, days moving faster and faster.

Life’s comings and goings always illustrate intersections and parallel lines. Conversing with your own shadow is, without doubt, searching for some inner source or origin.

The world created by thought often flows like a babbling river; passing vehicles kick up the dust of four seasons, and along with flower petals and the setting sun, gradually learn to become intoxicated.