smoothly you slide out of stones
and leave yourself there
you have forgotten yourself
a ring of warm lamplight
sand, water, filthy glass
air hot under a tungsten filament
sand, water, a stick on the glass
the tungsten subtly swells like a wound
a glassed-in, smooth-worn stick
sand strewn around the wound
sand, water, light spread around the wound
light gathers around the wound
clogged, the wound subtly swells
a dried stick like a leaf
a little coil of warm hurt
the distant foam keeps on roaring
a child’s hand sucks at the glass
the days and nights will carry him away
1983.10
– 顧城, Gu Cheng
