Sorrow I turned to the priest for your noble Teachers judge the artist Shoemaker philosophers and officials And you my father Please let me finish I have not young Do not make me thin body I have a soft white neck I have a wide forehead and elegant The bottom of my hair wet lips I am innocent laughter I'm jumping the pace Deceive you I have not young Do not let my innocence My innocence I just Weak and simple So you moved I have twenty years old I am a murderer I am a tool Blind like an ax I killed a man Hyperemia of the finger and then White women's breast stroke I saw wounded Rose is not a heaven or Not building the nest in a tree Is not San Francisco Achilles or Hector A full six years Blood bubbling out of my nostrils I do not believe the blood into wine Do not believe in the forgiveness of sins Do not believe that death and resurrection of the body Cui Weiping Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Survivor I was twenty-year-old Leading to the Holocaust I survived. The following words are empty tautology: And the beast Love and hate Friends and enemies Darkness and light. Ways to kill people and animals is the same as I have seen: A truck was killing people They no longer survive. The concept of just words: Good and evil Truth and lies Beauty and ugliness Courage and cowardice. Equal to the value of good and evil I have seen That a person can Evil is honest. I am looking for a gentleman or a master Maybe he can restore hearing and re-open my It can once again call out the names of things and ideas Can also be separated from the darkness and light. I was twenty-year-old Leading to the Holocaust I survived. Cui Weiping Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Pigtail All the women in exile Braids were cut off Four workers with a broom made of thin birch article Clean-up Gather the hair Behind the glass is clean These still remain in the hair straight Suffocated in gas chambers person Those pins and side combs Still in place The hair will not shine gloss No longer is with the breezes off The hand is no longer any Or rain, lips touching In the large box Crouching the dead Clouds heap dry hair And a faded plait Tied with ribbon Had been naughty school boy The pull 1948. Auschwitz memorial Cui Weiping Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ The memory of a dream in 1963 I dream of Leo Tolstoy He lay on the bed So large as the sun His curly hair Dense and long The lion I see His head His face wrinkled like a Lion It is the emergence of the above Ambitious light Suddenly, he went out Darken The skin of his hands and face Becomes rough Cracking Like the cry of an oak tree I told him to ask questions "Should do" "Nothing" He answered Through all the wrinkles And cracks That light began to tend to my A huge bright smile gorgeous Still burning Cui Weiping Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Proof Death can not be modified Even if his party lines She is not a proof A compassionate Female Editor A bad metaphor is immoral A dead poet inferior Is an inferior poet died Still hate after the death of a pain in the ass A fool to talk to his stupid Side from the grave Cui Weiping Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Get out of our We forget Forget the age of our Live like a human We forget We are envious of Plants and stones We are jealous of a dog I would rather be a rat I often do this to her I do not want to live I would rather sleep Wake up until after the war She answered my eyes closed We forget Do not ask about our youth Get out of our Davenport Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Tombstones erected from occupation Our tombstone Is ambiguous Like a ditch Our tombstone Done As tear Mouse Underground Casting our tombstone Our tombstone Like a smoke Helicopter to heaven Davenport Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Fear Your fear of large And abstract I was small An instrument with a bag With a record card Survey When I was born What are my income I have not done anything What I do not believe What I'm doing When will I stop fraud Then I would also like to pretend To the other party Davenport Translation