Modern Poetry
Confessed Aside grieve Ezra Pound
公开的独白 ——悼庞德
Ouyang Jianghe
I die, you are still alive.
You do not know me like you do not understand the world.
My mortal remains turned into immortal mask
Forcing you to resemble each other:
Do not own, nor did others.
I wish both had an apple tree grow each fall,
Bear more of the apple and hunger.
Do you see the Flyers are my soul.
I planted the shadow of the more positive light than all.
My real burial is in the book,
There, your name as the extra letters,
Was gently wiped off.
All eyes only for a glimpse of the open,
Not my song, you will not have lips.
And you will continue sung sung
Only the great silence, not song.
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