Van Gogh and You - To Little Xia |
Your handwriting always makes me feel inferior The desperation in your letter is hard to recognize But the strokes tend to be perfect Van Gogh’s Sunflowers grow On the callus due to friction while holding your pen
That empty chair is precious Either the place where you read and write Changes a posture Or just a memory that You calmly face the plunders Alone enjoying Van Gogh's paintings
Walking with your heartbeat every day And always thinking one more step to be the end The premonition of hitting the wall guides you Opposite to love On the another side of death Van Gogh's Sower Is destroyed by just sprouting seeds
For you The room is equal to Heaven Home from outside Seems to be saved While no one mourns the dead Everyone becomes a singer Only you keep silent Guarding the empty chair
Bloody memory strangles the throat Word is salty Voice is black Being followed under all weather And the monitor in the brain Cannot snatch your pen Nor the heavy snow in your painting
The ear that Van Gogh's cut off is flying To seek a colour for you A pair of muddy peasant shoes Walking awkwardly Take you to the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem
Xiaobo 1997.8.14 (Translated by Yu Zhang)
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