"The Watch"

 

 

Is like a

Castle concealing so many

Watchmakers

They walk

Up and downs the stairs, and shuttle

Between so many rooms

And murmur:

The time of Norway

Is lichen,

Of Caylen is

Forest,

And of Isreal

Is manna.

 

 

Beyond

All the meanings

The gear wheel is

Turning in the centre

Like the crystals of snows

Descending

In every silent speed

On the ocean

Like a boat in a port

Touching

The surface.

So the watchmakers

When working

In the cold solitary night

Out of the windows they see

A seagull, a heavy mist,

The snows falling

With the most exact

Perspective,

A silk of sound, stove fire

Ashes, a mirror

Polishing.

 

 

Outside the window

The horn of winter’s night

Is singing and reminds

All the watchmakers

Of their spirits

Locking

Over the sea

And falling

Like snows

Within every

Seconds.

Suddenly

The snows of spirits

Uplift to the stratosphere

They are like time being blowed

And scattered.

The watchmakers

Are waiting

With extremely silence

For someone’s

Response.

 

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Chaika

玫瑰的象徵

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