Time weasel
　　(And as for Elizabeth Bixiao Pu)
　　Nautilus Island's hermit
　　The heiress over in rough house a winter;
　　Her sheep still graze the sea on high ground.
　　Her son is a bishop. Her farmer
　　Let the village is the first mayor;
　　If this year she has aged.
　　She is hungry
　　Victorian
　　The kind of hierarchical quiet leisure,
　　She bought
　　All dislike the other side of place
　　Let it go to left leaning.
　　This season has gone wrong -
　　We lost the summer millionaire,
　　He is like one on the head from a cargo escaped.
　　He was nine feet long yacht
　　Auctioned to a man of shrimp.
　　Autumn Blue Mountains covered with fox's red spots.
　　Now we have our house decorated like a fairy
　　Fall City, waiting for a good cosmetic shop opening,
　　Covered his orange float fishing nets,
　　Shoemaker's bench, awl is orange;
　　His work, can not earn money,
　　He is better to get married.
　　One night,
　　I climbed the hill the Ford car,
　　I love watching people's car. Lamp black,
　　Car side by side with the fuselage next to the fuselage,
　　Cemetery in the town over the layers of rows.
　　My head wrong.
　　The radio in the car screaming,
　　"Love, ah, reckless love ... ..."
　　I hear all the evil in each blood cell God weep,
　　As if my hand stuck in her throat ... ...
　　I also like the seat of hell;
　　No one here -
　　Only the weasel, in the moonlight
　　Looking for a food,
　　They marched in the streets stride;
　　White stripes on the hair, wild red eyes spit fire,
　　At Trinity
　　Those chalky color, with beams below the spire.
　　I stood in my home
　　The back door steps, inhaling the smell of strong -
　　A weasel licking with a group of small bins in the
　　Food bowl,
　　_Insert_ed into her brain sharp
　　A yogurt cup, blowing like her ostrich tail,
　　Afraid of nothing.
　　1957
　　(Yuan Kejia translation)
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　The victims of the federal
　　"He gave up everything for the Republic of service."
　　Now the old South Boston Aquarium stands
　　A snow desert, he nailed a board broken windows.
　　Cod fish-shaped bronze that the weathercock off as half of the scales.
　　Storage tank dry.
　　My nose was like a snail crawling on the glass:
　　My hand was itching to
　　To pierce those tame, submissive fish nostrils
　　Came out of small bubbles.
　　My hands shrink back. I often
　　Dusky below to breed the fish and reptile kingdom sigh.
　　One morning in March
　　I am close to the square in Boston
　　A newly built, there are spikes, galvanized fence.
　　Behind the cage, like a yellow dragon roaring excavators
　　Tons of snow to mud and grass rise,
　　Digging an underground garage.
　　Storage yard sparkling, as
　　Boston Center for the piles of sand.
　　Orange, pumpkin-colored beams clean as a belt
　　Closely surrounded the gurgling sound of the state government buildings,
　　It is due to digging and shaking,
　　The opposite is Shengsangdengsi amazing relief for the war on
　　Colonel Shaw and the bulging cheeks black infantry regiment
　　Supported by a piece of wood to withstand the shock garage.
　　After two and a half into the Boston,
　　Half the team has been killed,
　　Erected the monument in time,
　　William James could almost hear the black statue of breathing.
　　They like a fishbone monument
　　Stuck in the city's throat.
　　It's like a compass Colonel
　　General thin needle.
　　He has an angry wren vigilance
　　A dog's mild tension;
　　He seems afraid of pleasure,
　　But was stifled by loneliness.
　　He is now unfettered by. He is one of the lovely,
　　Make a choice between life and death of special forces cheered -
　　When he led the black soldiers toward death.
　　His spine is not bent.
　　Thousands of New England small town on the green of the original
　　Old white church maintained lean and sincere
　　Rebellious air, wear the flag
　　Covered with the graves of the Republic army.
　　Abstract sculptures out of the federal soldiers
　　Weight loss year after year and the young -
　　Spine beam was thin, and they rely on Mauser bunk,
　　In their beard in contemplation.
　　Shaw's father, not monuments,
　　Apart from a small ditch,
　　Threw his son's body, where
　　With his "niggers" with the lost.
　　That trench closer.
　　Can not stay here, what the last war the statue:
　　Bo Hai in Charleston on the street, an advertising photo
　　Showing the Hiroshima boiling
　　Mole Si cards in a safe, and that "the eternal rock"
　　Preserved in the explosion. Space is closer.
　　When I bent down to watch TV
　　Withered black students face as the balloon-like rise in the ranks.
　　Colonel Shaw
　　Now riding on the bubble.
　　He waited
　　That being the crack.
　　Aquarium gone. Everywhere
　　Cars with large gills of fish generally swim past;
　　The yield of a brutal
　　Painted lubricants slipped in the past.
　　1964
　　(Yuan Kejia translation)
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Blessing the children of light
　　Fathers wild land seized from the bread,
　　With the Red Man's bones to make the yard fence,
　　They boarded ships from the Dutch lowlands,
　　Night in Geneva, Asaka nowhere to home.
　　They come here to grow the snake under the blessing of light seeds.
　　Rotating searchlight in the search, to shock
　　Built on rock fury of the glass room
　　In the empty side of the altar, candles flowing,
　　The blood of Cain in the burning of homeless,
　　Burning did not bury the seeds, where the only blessing of light.
　　(Zhao Yiheng translation)
　　Note: The "blessing the children of light" is the "Bible" often language. According to "Luke" sixteen: the children of light is different from the earthly welfare of children, their dependents by the grace of God.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Wake up in the blue
　　Night shift nurses, a "big wave" second-year students,
　　Looked on the "meaning of meaning",
　　Dazed mind from his mare to wake up the nest,
　　Crept in through our hallway.
　　Sky-blue day
　　Make my pain even more desolate blue windows.
　　Crow on the noisy channel in the petrochemical,
　　Missing people! My heart is tense,
　　Mark rushing like a whale to be deadly.
　　(Here is the "mental patient" s home)
　　My sense of humor, what's the use?
　　I grinned Stanley, he is now stuck in a six-year-old,
　　He used to guard the nation's Harvard,
　　(If this is possible!)
　　He kept the two-year-old boy's body,
　　When he was immersed in the water, like a ramrod,
　　Covered with seal-like muscle
　　In his long tub,
　　Victorian water mains with some urine smell of urine smell.
　　A king-like granite profile,
　　Night and day wearing a bright red golf cap,
　　He wanted his body,
　　Only of ice cream and ginger juice by light beer to lose weight,
　　Seal is more silent than silence.
　　This is where the package McLean Di is the scene of the Museum of dawn;
　　Night light lights up the hat, "Bobby"
　　"Possum" company of the 29th's,
　　A replica of Louis XVI,
　　Do not wear a wig -
　　As delicious as the sperm whale, short and stout,
　　When he swagger around naked,
　　Also riding in the chair.
　　The bravado ossified young, triumphant image.
　　Within the time limit in the day,
　　In the letter, Xiaoping Tou Catholic nurses under
　　Package is not very absurd in their eyes the next bachelor
　　Many hours away in single file
　　(Catholic Church, there is no
　　Mayflower's Frankenstein)
　　Ate a hearty New England breakfast,
　　My weight this morning
　　Two hundred pounds. Swagger like cock
　　I wore high-necked French sailor-style sweaters
　　Swaggering walk of metal shaving mirror
　　See these varieties have higher mental patients
　　Gaunt face was on the shaky future of indigenous increasingly familiar
　　I doubled their older, less half my body weight,
　　When we are all members of the old record,
　　Each hand holds a lock on the razor.
　　Translated by Liu Gang
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Christmas Eve under Hooker statue
　　Blackout tonight. Twenty years ago
　　I put socks hanging in trees and hell
　　Serpent wrapped around the apple interdigital
　　Children with the knowledge sting. Hook the heel
　　In the nothing snow floating kicked,
　　A cannon and a pile of cone shells
　　Black down before the parliament building had rusted to know
　　How long horn rich as broken glass
　　Iron glove in the Hook. I have come from Massachu_set_ts;
　　Storm clouds now obscured by Christmas, and again
　　Mas no results with open arms to greet him the star,
　　Swords flashing his heavy frost,
　　This is the hole in his forehead Bronze God of War
　　Anonymous from novice molding machine;
　　Can not deter an ordinary cannon
　　This staggering time butcher as he rode ─ ─
　　Barrel due to holly and jingled. I'm cold:
　　I want bread, my father gave me a badge;
　　His stockings filled with stones. Santa Claus in red
　　Crowned with dried berries. War who
　　Summer garden where? In its bed
　　Old snake spots will appear,
　　Curly hair, black eyes there Susan.
　　When the volunteers cut down the decision-maker,
　　"All wars are boyish," Herman. Melville said;
　　Can we get old, our fields in the desert:
　　Again turned to Christ until the Rangers and children.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Holy innocent
　　Listen to the grass in the jingle bell as if the carriage
　　Trembling in the rubber tires
　　Mills along the lower hanging burlap
　　Tar and ashes of the ice cover
　　Mercedes-Benz. The Bulls have coveted
　　Became curious about the car's fender,
　　And St. Peter stumble onto a huge mountain.
　　These are pure because their women ─ ─
　　Sad is not the sorrow of this world;
　　Wang Xi Luode choking in the air in front
　　Upward bending of the knees of Jesus screaming revenge
　　A silent king of the body and the baby. Still
　　Xi Luode outside world; the years,
　　Kind in 1945,
　　With heavy losses onto clean out our
　　Slag Hill; Bulls are close to
　　They wear it open at the base of the wall
　　Holy cow trough their bed
　　Shredded corn for Christmas and holly. If they die,
　　Like Jesus, _set_s the saddle, who mourn?
　　Lamb shepherd boy, how you lay quiet.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　New Year
　　Born in the years again and again ...
　　Death among the ice and it will never
　　Hidden behind the window in the wind in the hearth
　　Listen mail lady blew her trumpet, France
　　When the wet ice will melt.
　　There is no reason for love,
　　Or that we are determined to weed out the
　　Tomorrow. When we live, in order to
　　Smelling smoke offerings. In the snow
　　Raised kittens hind legs, as if already stink,
　　Die. We put it into a Christmas box
　　Sprinkle scare away crows burning weeds
　　Until the tail-like wind in a double lock on the outside the church
　　Cough, howling to beg alms
　　Waiting for St. Peter, that distorted key.
　　St. Peter's bells in the diocese of following the sea that
　　Fish with it the influx of sand drilling cabin hanging burlap
　　Joseph, like playing in there fiddling with his fishing line,
　　When listening to circumcise boys cry of terror,
　　He once again experience of Jesus in his arms
　　Death and cries. In front of the beast
　　How the burden of harsh discipline:
　　Time, God's millstone and the knife.
　　Children born in the blood, the blood Oh, that boy.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Catherine Dream
　　─ ─ from "between the porch and the altar"
　　It must be Friday. I could hear
　　Roar sent upstairs typist
　　You bring the beer box hurt my head;
　　I threw the pillow bed
　　Hold knees breathing.
　　Pendulum hand_set_ a harsh voice
　　Like a man in a dream can not stop
　　Breath or speculate about, until he fell victim
　　Darkness and sheets. I must have fallen asleep,
　　Can still hear my father, who keep
　　Your gift is guilty cut my hair.
　　He whispered that he really did not care
　　Whether I'll never be your mistress,
　　Or destroy two of your children and your wife;
　　The infamous but I made him drink. Of course,
　　I will tell the court the truth about his divorce.
　　I walked through the snow into the St. Patrick's cemetery.
　　Black nuns wearing glasses, smiling guard
　　A snow shore bulkhead,
　　It burnt all the doors open, the same as the goods
　　People are paired off into teams confessor priest. Per person
　　Must have a friend go in together, but the crowd
　　No one is unfriendly, the nuns in the smile.
　　I was surprised to stand aside; a while
　　Pleasant in winter sun, it's love with others
　　Warmed my heart, but
　　Gradually reduced in repentance. I started
　　Tears beseech God to forgive my sins.
　　Where are you? You with me now you away.
　　All couples who hurried to the forgiveness
　　Night dinner and they, no one will stop.
　　I run around until the enclosure
　　Again in a locked down in the cemetery in front of the bulkhead
　　Faces red where the snow to harden.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　After the surprise change in the
　　September 22, President: Today
　　I replied. In late May,
　　Close to our Lord's ascension, the weather became
　　More sensitive. A gentleman
　　More than the general understanding of good character
　　Piety, against our goad.
　　A prestigious person,
　　A useful man in town, respected people,
　　His parents from depression; tend to
　　They kept alone for many years, the secret spell ─ ─
　　His aunt, I believe, is because it died:
　　Good, a little more or less intelligent.
　　One Sabbath I preached a theme from the kings;
　　He showed concern for his soul. Something
　　In his experience is full of hope. He
　　Will sit down and struck a tree to observe the wind
　　And praise our Lord created this country.
　　Time when a poor little cow died,
　　He placed a shilling on the windowsill; despite a burst of longing for love
　　Shaking him like a snake, he did not dare
　　The property of his hope, and heaven.
　　Time we saw him
　　After he sat down late in the attic window
　　Zhu Lei in a dripping candle next to the Bible; that night
　　Mediate between his fear, and it seems
　　Can not be proposed or asked, as he dreamed of
　　He was horn call at the trial
　　Call to harmony. In late May
　　He cut off his pipes. While forensic
　　He is the identification of mental disorder, and soon a burst of commotion offensive
　　Or paralysis in our village. Nap in the Lord
　　Satan seems to be more casual among us: the God
　　Abandoned us to Satan, and his harsh repression us
　　We believe that we have no peace until
　　Until we end the life. Satisfaction away.
　　All the good jobs are prohibited. We finished.
　　God's breeze carried out a planned conscious
　　Withdrawal from the land;
　　No doubt, had no contact
　　Was not numb, curious, or dedicated people,
　　Skip to the broad daylight, like a hawker groaned
　　Sharply with the familiar twang: "My friends,
　　Cut off your pipes. Cut off your pipes. Now! Now! "
　　September 22, sir, branch
　　And because Apple has not broken off, and at dawn
　　Mouth bass breaking the surface of the water, greedily devouring the eggs.