[Untitled] Poem by Bei Dao

In father's level imagination
the persistent cries of children
finally strike against a mountain
don't panic
I walk along the thoughts of certain trees
and turn from stuttering into song

sorrow that comes from afar
is a form of power
that I use to saw tables
some people depart for love
while a palace in pursuit of storms
journeys past many kingdoms

beyond life with
furniture, fleas beat a great drum
Daoist priests practice their ascent to heaven
youth pass down the lanes
sobbing over night's logic
I achieve rest

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