Dry Season Poem by William Marr

Even the shadows
are dried to the bone
their whiskers sparse and brown

With no dewdrops to moisten their throats
birds won't come to the window
to chirp
to waken dreams
to inspire

Holding a dried-up pen
the poet stares at the blank sky
where not a single trace of cloud
is in sight

No tears of joy
are expected
anytime
soon


The Chinese version:


干旱季节


连影子
都被晒得瘦骨嶙峋
胸前飘着的几根胡须
也疏落焦黄

没有露水润喉
鸟儿不再来窗前
叽喳
扰人清梦
挑拨灵感

握着一支干涸的笔
诗人眼睁睁瞪着
空无一物的
天空

别期望
这样的日子
会有喜极而泣的
雨