Had chosen you，
the blue sea，being the foremost friend ;
Now chose you,
So deep and dark the sea is like the last friend.
No more talking but
Work in silence and unscramble in it.
Beneath the crosstrees which hung with lanterns.
I try so hard to forget what
The meaning of human’s happiness is,
But in vain, so I'm beginning to count
Upon the sky every star listless.
——Sir Derek Walcott
On the way from
Beijing to Shanghai the dream of Cao Mu-yun
The night deepened
And the moon hazy;
The train’s running southwards on the northern-plain.
Cao Mu-yun going to Shanghai with
A broken dream.
Over a Great-iron Bridge of the Yellow-River,
When the whistle lorn caught the night and low,
And shook the silent waves
From his life in a given summer
When every splash never runs dry that same yellow;
With the irony-wheels
Rattled, the troubled soul with tender
Sorrows rose from corners of his heart.
The echoed yellow waves
More like to fail, a reflection there
While a glimpse of a family figure
Appeared, still on the water,with his
Practiced eye was not without perceiving that it was
That his wife, wild-eyed Yang Yi-ping behind a wet
Veil. Then her wet body flew up into the
Compartment,leaning upon his bedside,
Tears shone in her eye.
As happy as being reborn Cao was, he stretched
Out his arms, holding his love so tight, and
wiped her tears and kissed a lot on her cheek，
Stumbled over words he longed to hear and say all
Murmured on his lips a soft in him they could speak.
The face resurfaced, water-dripped hair and tearful，
Now disappearing, now finding self…thought
Of his love about the last journey:
Died with no room to die again;
His never-ending burden.
Heavy of the past:
His words sounded of love and pity,
Of bitterness and lament, as a naked soul:
“Never thought: you, as my lifelong love and model
With heavenly shine, robed in fires of Dearth or
Bright-reborn with the well-a-day, just a never-die-
Phoenix in Nirvana is an angel she belongs
To the range of Yi-Meng Mountains.
You had rescued the many on battlefields,
Me, your love and many others, for whom
You had risked your own giving them the reborn.
But you could not bear the deadly call of Death,
And jump down embracing to the Mother River emotion
Make you feel so light to her Yellow rolling rhythms:
I am dying, forever rolling, just like one
Of those fated waves
Touching the yellows and gone in
No returning, no shame
—The Yellow River is our wildlands' hourglass,
She never let you—no lapse of time, no distance
Of space—down towards the blue sea to be forgotten:
As the leaving-now-then-living- for- ever-voice
Until flesh no longer talks to flesh:
It's meant to be
Of spirit of the rioting land of Promises.
Yang Yi-ping smiled grimly:
“With rocks the mountain being high and
With drops sea being boundless wild,
Who with Home Rule sun
Could dissect their own lives and the world?
What does that revolution mean?
What does that love mean?
Walked jerkily into many circles of life,barely
Know who you are talking to, can such things be?
Then feel self
Had been eaten and spewed, as for rest rubble,
The very worst hour of the nightmare,
Is the hour so late, sprawling the years the waste.
Pity to know，slandering on whom then passing away；
Gold melting of heat spilled of mass of mouths.
Who knows those cunning old toadies?
Same fellows are
Used to sending thought-honored believers
On the scaffold high in the dark;
A good system for the two-faces.
“In a river of the free love life of lovers
Whatever longest runs merely as an instant in it;
Then who could know that the lives'
Bitter roots of you and me of
A tragic-drama planted in the land of
A place unknown ！”
Her continued voice woke in the shadows
A stream of an echo of his heart:
“How many summers there and winters,
How many autumns there and springs,
Within all unremitting contests of the top game
Of the men, keeping bide the sun farewell;
My hot memories never wane, even the human
Flesh dated, mauled, and withered
On the wane. Time never has been
Killing the aching spot.
Hence, the tears blood-stained
Of mine held fast in the heavy sorrowful past.
“Parting we seemed to say no words;
On my forehead high is the symbol of curse.
Many a year I have been in my dreams,
Holding your hand as the same day when we parted,
Two hearts in wintry cold beneath
The richest light of Truth,
In summer blue sky
Stifled the voices the rude tide.
“In sleepless nights behind a bar,
In the chill matchless hunger of the labor field,
In dusks apart from homeland' seashore,
I cried, yet I crying, a soul, facing alone the world,
Cry in white silence, for myself and for you.
“Roam about is not self-choice;
Even everyone knows Australia a generous country.
Day and night when roaming about the world
Often without an echo,
A strange dream has come for a moment.
Holidays when going sightseeing in the Alps,
A dear fellow who supposed to be dead
Long in the past war,in charming met, with
His heaven and earth
Of half-century's weathering lives”.
“A dream, every time cast
A look behind, Yet re-approached
Of my soul the aching spots,
I saw you, then seeing your eyes asked
Melancholy in silence:
What does that revolution mean?
What does that love mean?
“Either there a sprinkling of
Happy rejoining and sad parting；
Or chances to coalesce with two lovers of
Not-yet-for this timing:
That has bad appeared at our fate
At every turning corner of our journey and
At every knot of the chaining event,
Why whatever cipher or code on a rocky road?
The dim power of the human heart.
“Cast a look behind the wound road of
Our being, suddenly all the threads of
It clearly appears in front of
The plastic power of
Our eye: the unrest spirit of
The class struggles bearing
The class brand have done a double-taking
Suffers in disaster, no mercy.
“Fifty years have passed by, now I am
Standing by Sydney beach,
Partitioned by the Pacific Ocean,
Often gazing upon the blue
Of your dreaming eyes
And hearing waves of your voice.
“Remember the year 1957, Yan-Tai city.
A road so long on a foot-scuffed sandy beach;
As when, upon a traced summer-night,
The tide raised, a wet moon came upon the silence.
A dream as a spider-web beneath ancestral eaves
Went on,a while I was telling you
The first time of a noble boy,
Of a passion of approaching sea, that made me
Leave my home-town soon in woods, not alone
But solitary; And kept through aged boughs,
That yielded like mists, neither hail-fellow nor
Bag; just kept getting rid of a dense
Brake of cane and brier,
Following the branch-charmed by the earnest bids
And sounding streams as the hills' voices.
Trusted my young and rough feet over the ridges
Until I came near and near the sea,
Heard its sounds of voice, gazing at rolling waves,
Lights dotted shone on the soul horizon.
The tell of Mu-Yun awaking
The memories of Yang Yi-ping：
“There was a chain of events
That would never be forgotten:
That night with our daughter aged three, we paced on
Beneath the moonlight, wondering along
The sandy beach,high water at bay, the murmurs
Of lines Of white waves about the feet, souls
Flying up to the air; looked careflly in the distance
There was a ship solitary sailing towards
The shadow light Of the Yantai harbor;
The sea winds blew in the smells
Of flowery- grass on the land...
The quite calm night was,
Wave’s mild, and,
The heart kept calm sooth.
“Who could imagine that?
The rain-stored clouds
Over the capital of the country
Within the black storms:
Under sunshine of politicians' one way
Of getting the kill designed on in the world.
“you said never be suspicious，
Never be jealous of
Between two love hearts,
There would be a long-lasting life of
It; trusting as a net
Of silk and fibulae gold,
With this one a fairy tale never out.
“Did it ever strike the people the watchwords?
—“Ming/ Fang”—Open hearty and say honestly—
That just was alike fishing baits
Many a man and a woman lost
Their eternal mornings with the jaw-dropping truth.
“Vainglory and self-respect,
One black, and one white;
As see, bear not the evil allure
And could-not-dismiss the bad root
Of the petit bourgeoisie.
The papers of the thought-honored primary report
Of mine in black and white
Totally made change your fortune,and yet
Ruined the whole youth of my love.
“Woe is me to trap you in
I never could think of it before:
The only betrayed by me in
My whole life is the only one, my lover.”
While she told all thoughts from her heard, was
Shocked the soul of Cao Mo-yun,
He said: “too huge for mortal tongue those mad years
And passions were blinded but to burn,
The loyal that never hold standards of the men;
The inwit that forever
Lovingness and illusion,
Youth and friendships;
The principle that sits at the stern
To make morals be hypocritical, an emperium.”
Watched the love of her, cried
In muse and tears welled out:
“Sad was the day When you were forced to go
To a labor-camp,it is my hand naked framed up you,
As evil as a chief criminal, stood
On the slope of rear-hill, only miles of a gazing eye
Of a car far beyond straitened banks…
“The sky dim; Thick clouds
Shadowed the sun. Her eyes
Blurred with tears; the glint
Of the blade cutting hurt inside my heart.
My daughter steadily against
My bosom she button-held,
I take it with me but never being an evil-doer.
Me lying down at the chill land of Southern-Mountain
Who could see in curiosity?”
Cao Mu-yun said:
“A dream of casting a look behind
In silence every time re-approached
Of my soul the aching spot; then
Seeing your eyes ask melancholy:
What does that revolution mean?
What does that love mean?”
Yang YI-ping said: “in my thought, I wonder,
What is now what was passed?
《wait to you》in battlefield
Singing then of my tearing heart —
For the days of you back, I could never know.
“Wait to you, above the gray South-mountain
There is a star that darkened its rays;
Wait to you, of rich beeches on
The peaks of the mountain its wide branches
Holding gladsome lights of a fresh sunrise
And a feather of a new moon the east westwards.
“Wait to you, there is
The belt of thick trees
The hill-thrushes fly through wherein in silence,
And blossom the white azaleas;
Wait for you returning homewards—
Miles Of sour pain eye
Of the road before you in haste
Far beyond those banks.
“There is another road or a byway, leads，
In saying, to an ideal holy-palace,
Becoming very chill linked with bygone days—
And with a great future behind it—that makes
The people keep waving Left-and-then-right as
Besides the river-walls
“The tide rises, the tide falls,
The old sea walls widened, bright is
The Broadway, leading to the light-tower.
“Mu Yun, do you still remember
Our seaside the little house those days
When the storm came and rattled on its timber-floor
And our daughter cried with
A scare echoed in the house a vessel at a roaring sea.
So the small town sooner or later would
Be re-build and, a Light and strong house
We would have, you say, like rock-based.
Same yellow waves and mountains and an endless sea
That bore it buried deep and cold as
Wave after wave absorbed in vain by beach sands;
Many sounding nights of sleep or melancholy in songs
Bear many teary-dim dreams.
My body has washed away by rolling yellow waves
Toward the far-distant sea;
And down those hills beneath those pine trees,
The mountain winds
Are blowing, beside the silent streams
The urn buried deep and cold without swelling vein
Of star-grasping youth and wan memories
Of Yi-Meng sun;
Remember years ago a bevy of girls of ravines ran
As feet On the poor thin soil and
Rockbound land and their laughing in hill-wind.
“Mu Yun, you must go to find her,
Jiang-Hui, She is really to love you,
Only because of me, she quit the luck of her;
Somewhere there among the people, away from you,
Even remaining incognito, she has hidden her
Individual life. Mu-Yun, go, go to find her,
Tell her, please to tell her:
My proud blood still being a roving soul,
I have got rid of the yoke Itook with me, a winner
In fail at the game between light and dark soil…”