Modern Poetry
glass canteen
玻璃工厂
Ouyang Jianghe
1
From see to see, in the middle only glass.
From face to face
Separated is invisible.
In the glass, the material is not transparent.
The whole plant is a huge glass eyes,
Labor is one of the darkest part of the
During the day it shines in the heart of things.
Adhere to the initial tears of things,
Like a bird in a pure light in a dark shadow adhere.
Way back to the dark light, and dedication.
In place of glass everywhere,
Glass is not its own, but
A spirit.
Like everywhere, the air, the air nearly non-existent.
2
The sea near the factory.
Understanding of water is the understanding of the glass.
Freezing, cold, fragile,
These are transparent price.
Transparency is a mystery, could see the waves of the language,
When I say it has been out of it,
Out of the cup, coffee table, dressing mirror, all these
Concrete, mass production of the substance.
But I was surrounded by exposure to substances,
Life is full of desire.
Language overflow, dry, in a transparent before.
Language is the fly, that is,
To open on the open, lightning bolts of lightning.
So many birds of the sky outside the body,
The shadow of a solitary bird
Can be a light in the sea gently scrape.
Something across from the glass, lighter than the shadow,
Than cut deeper, harder than the blade to match.
Cracks are invisible.
3
I came, I saw, I say.
Language and time turbidity, pays top academics.
Spread from the center of a blind.
The same experience has occurred in the glass house.
Fire breathing, the heart of the flame.
The so-called water glass is to change attitudes in flames,
Two Spirits is met
Twice into the same eternal destruction.
After the flame into a glass of water,
The solemn into the combustion sub-zero,
Truth or feeling like a
Plain, clear, refused to flow.
In the fruit, in the depths of the sea, the water never flows.
4
So this is what I see the glass -
Is still a stone, but is no longer strong.
Is still a flame, but no longer warm.
Still water, but neither soft nor passing.
Some wounds but it is not bleeding,
It is a voice but not through silence.
To lose from the loss, which is glass.
Language and time transparency
Pay a high price.
5
I see three kinds of factories in the same glass:
States of matter, and decorations, and symbolic.
I was told that the father was some confusion in the glass stones.
Void in the stone, the death is not the end
Can change the original but a fact.
Crushed stone, glass was born.
This is true. But there is another real
Me into another realm: from high to high.
In that is only true in the glass of water, is already
Or is hardened, a bone, can not afford to splash water
The flame is biting cold,
And the most beautiful and most easily broken.
World all noble things, and
The tears of things.
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