lin ling

Cloud dissects itself

I was born in the old home of the sun,
My tomb will be the blue green ocean,
Just like the tiny meteorite in the sky.
The lights of the fishing boats,
Returning late at night,
Will be the tears of my mourners.
I always remember,
many years ago there was a girl
Who loved to dress in red.
She slowly walked through the human world,
With gestures of mist,
With the rhythm of rain,
With the melody of a flowing stream.
And the flames and the snowflakes
She scattered so freely
Became the Equator and the North and South Poles.
I always remember -
Like the tiny meteorite in the sky,
The ocean is my emerald tomb,
The lights of the fishing boats,
Homeward bound in the late night,
Are the tear drops of my mourners.

trans unknown