Ah that cold autumn

 

Your hands

couldn’t soak in cool water

your jacket

needed to be ironed night after night

and that thick white sweater

I knitted and knitted in vain

was finished like a miracle

into a time when you’d wear nothing else!

 

Ah that cold autumn

you wanted to dress like a gentleman.

 

Talking and laughing

we passed the days

laughing and talking, we confounded

people both friendly and mean

in front of those eyes

I held your hand

and thrust it into every

crevice with a conscience

 

I should have been born a giant bird

but now

I must draw in my wings

and become a nest

let all those unwilling to raise their heads

see me

let them see

the heaviness of the sky

let them undergo

a withering of the soul!

 

Ah that autumn so cold it was poignant

that unyielding and bitter

love we had

 

3.1985, Changchun

translated from Chinese by Eleanor Goodman