In the kitchen washing my hands
soapy water runs down the drain
like a French horn’s
anxiety
the bride waves goodbye
to the canal of keeping dates
who is the white-haired witness
going upstream?
a group photo with the sun
half my face covered
the other half daylight
in the windless solitude
in the rivers and lakes fish forget one another
the night creates a momentary god
bats in the eyes of drug addicts
destroy themselves in passion
Bei Dao
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