The teacher faded long ago
yet the fragments of her diary
act as a go-between
following the corridors of continual evolution
the whole team chases the rabbit
who will skin it?
the back door leads to summer
the eraser can never erase
the dotted lines turning into sunlight
the rabbit’s soul flies low
looking for its next incarnation
this is a story, many years ago
someone’s ears pricked up
stole a glimpse of the sky
and we the wolves suckling on a red lamp
have already grown up
Bei Dao
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