Every Year Poem by Yongbo Ma

Every Year

Every year, the stars set out anew into the cold and dark.
Every year, their cries freeze midair, like white snares.
Skaters on the pond at the forest's edge always carve silver rings,
Intertwined, encircling a collapsing center that grows darker.
Every year, someone always clips obituaries from the newspaper, postponing the news.

Every year, you always want to put an end to everything.
but things are always halfway between new and old.
You are always forced to wrestle with the statue on the cross,
you think you've nailed it down completely,
yet every year, it always struggles to resurrect
like a garment descending from the sky, wrapping you again.
That gray, icy hood snaps behind your head,
yearning for the warm, white thoughts within your bones.

Every year, the train always arrives at the same desolate station,
barely maintaining operations, with a stationmaster dozing like a dim wind lamp.
You cannot die, nor can you live, wavering between the two.
Every year, the stars always are the universe's final nails.
Every year, you are condemned anew, without any charge or trial.