I hear, I hear flock of rain, crowing, rushing out of stirred crowds of
chaos and frights, sweeping past, laughing, roars of laughter
crashing into the Wailing Wall. Triumphant karma holds a sharp blade
in its mouth and slices the sigh into pieces; one piece, two pieces,
feathers flutter, dancing. You emerge, among the whirling snow.
The thing you can’t imagine arises. It’s the time,
drops of white blood splash, the brightest blossom of snowflakes.
I see, I see your heart of great suffering swells up, up
till an angel thunders out, and he tightens up his not-yet-familiar
large wing roots, pressing against the blowing
from the wind gap in your heart, then bows his head to peck
such a sizable petrified world with his sharp beak. An already stiffened You,
so giant a sigh, stands upright while burning inside.
A fire wall, a wall of fire burns darkly and damply, smoking
whitely and bitterly, collapses and buries, buries the eternal sighs.

       Trans. by Tim Lilburn and Xuan Yuan and the author