He's never cried
And already let the dark night
Slip off a paper white
For many times
The autumn wind instantly blows off
The light of a lamp
While my heart is still barren
And lit with a shame
By the name of faintness
From those verses
Release
The souls of the dead
How much flame
A poet's body could ever have
When burning
It whines as Xun's wail
Some beings
Settle down
In the lit starry sky
With a smile he walks up to
That gust of wind
Which is going to ruin him
他一直沒有哭
他已經讓黑夜在
白紙上 閃過
許多次
秋風瞬間熄滅了
一盞燈
而我內心的荒蕪依然
恥辱地亮着
一個詩人體內到底有多少
火焰
燃燒時發出壎的
哀鳴
以微弱的名義
超度
那些詩句裏的`
亡靈
一些生靈在
被點亮過的星空裏
安家
他
微笑着走向熄滅他的
那陣風