I need a mirror to reflect
the remnants of my youth
of the beauty between my eyes.
My hair is going dry and gradually thin.
I will watch out so that it shall be with me
like ten years ago.
I need a piece of glass
to experience the pain of being broken
again and again
to relive the finish and completeness once there
the worries deep and immeasurable like the sea
the ideal once believed to be always defended
and the firmness in all hardships.
I need a small piece of ice
to freeze an abandoned dusk
the retreating background leaving
farther and farther, an early spring burning
a leaf fallen, a fish dried
and the tremor blindly occurred
in an unknown port.
Oh, I need and I love these transparent things
with passion. Yet whenever I approach them
I am bound to be repaid
with daunting cold.
About the author:
Wan Qi is the author of the poetry collection Waves in Distance. Her works appear in major Chinese literature magazines such as Changjiang Literature, Writers, Guangxi Lierature and Poetry etc. She is a member of Chinese Writers Association.