Mountain Is Dullness, Too Late To Shout
the mountain top is pared and -
exposes the worn bones on his back
as same as wipping away the memory -
of my childhood in this town
The scorpion hides in hard rocks.
The locust lives in green brstlegrass.
Mountain is dullness, too late to shout
How can you take a ten years cut
Time brings a terrible change here.
The last rotten muscle of mountain -
stay with several people in the autumn of days
Mountain is dullness, too late to shout
It takes ten years to prepare for cry
which covetous man stole your green hair?
I see the murderer, those metallic insects!
They follow the young man betrayed you -
and showed the way to their birthplace.
Mountain is dullness, too late to shout.
How long does it take to be anger?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem