How I wish I had a chair,
The walls so gloomy, stained and bare,
A cozy place to rest my bones
It would make this prison cell a home;
But oh the humor of the guard,
I can't peak out and see the yard,
The rough steel of these high hung bars,
An empty cell makes living hard;
How I wish I had a chair,
Standing always life's unfair;
Those watching eyes, condemning frown
If my knees sink to the ground;
They torture me, they make me stand,
So clever is the mind of man,
They seek to break me of my will,
It leaves no mark this stinging chill;
But oh to have a cushy chair,
To see it standing empty there,
Some safe spot to ease my limbs,
I could better bear Hu Jintao's whim.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem