When we talk about love,
the thunder is approaching close.
When our debate is interrupted by thunderclaps,
love just sheds tears.
We are old, yet fascinated in love,
with at least interests to explore.
Thunder reminds us the clay bodies
that in time would return to dust.
A portion will be blown away by the wind;
the rain takes its share;
the rest will be mixed into mud
and laid on walls.
We sit at the window watching the rainy night;
lightning goes panic; eyes go blurred.
When it comes to the ones we loved,
the most appropriate outcome, we say,
might be a heavy rain.
About the author:
Zhang Zhihao is a much celebrated Chinese poet. He has published a great number of poetry and essay collections. Zhang is the winner of many literary prizes, including the People's Literature Award, the Annual Poet of the Chinese literary Media Award, and the Chen Ziang Poetry Prize. Zhang is now a professional writer of Chinese Writers Association of Wuhan City and the executive editor-in-chief of Chinese Poetry.
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