火车 / Train Comments

I've collected in my body a vast wilderness, a train
is running over it, autumn steeped in deep
cool twilight. I follow the train,
restlessly migrating, planting in the open fields a thousand hawthorn trees.
Their white crowns and scarlet fruit show benevolence
and peace. I know fate is like endless hills, rivers, and plains
or a meandering river, creeping low behind the train.
Atop hills near and far stand ragged trees, their unreal, imperturbable shadows
move behind the train, one, two … standing on boundless ashen fields.
I say to the trees, those are my friends, my family.
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