THE BIRD AND THE CLOUD
Authored by: Luo Fu (Taiwan)
Translator: Xin Yue (Canada)
You are the bird, I am the cloud
As you miss me,
You can’t see me
As I miss you,
I can’t find you somehow
Love makes me hesitate,
lets me waver,
and gets me hold back,
the only hope I count on is you,
into whom I bump by accident.
Love, that I have restrained long at my bosom,
as it is readily possessed by chance, yet becomes
a dumb looking back, my mood abruptly sinks into distinct layers of misty.
What a white dove!
How much do I adore you,
The vast of darkness, that is densely suffused in front of me,
abruptly morphs into mist accidentally,
and rainwaters, that are infatuated,
now have turned into the end, that have never encountered.
Perhaps,
the infatuation I have, to the White dove near at hand,
is exceptional in the merge of cloud and misty, and of wind and rain.
The ideal, that soars in spreading wings,
in the wind and rain sweeping across a gloomy sky,
is not to refrain with the exception of beauty.
In the world, there is a space, in which nothing is collided,
though you are wavering and hesitating,
though you are havering and waffling in the layers of clouds,
the sentimental loneliness, and the void city in solitude,
are the goodness that is eternal and ephemeral.
The white dove, thank you.
May you soar in spreading wings
in a sentimental and lonely void city!
The bird and the cloud,
in the vast of fixated the gray, the white and the blue sky,
becomes to snuggle up together in between the white dove and the cloud.
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