In July

In July, I can't stop the ranting inside

Let me clear my throat before the silence

Chaohu, I stand in your cloudy eyes

I can't see a single teardrop

Let me become your tears in July

Let the horses of language go first

Let the bird of theory fly first

Let myself lie in a broken boat

O words, you proud murderer

Take off your clothes and fight with me

See how the rain and the sunlight are in sympathy

See how he runs through the long night

Light your black hair as your torch

A lightning bolt in July

Falling heavy raindrops of the future

Drunk on the ground in the cynicism

In how many dreams

To find my past self?

Walking on the street in July

Smiles surge and cries are inexplicable

Cleaners create for the city at dawn

A minimalist painting

Walking on the street in July

The scent of hair is intoxicating, the back is strange

Pretending to meet her in the middle of the road

Laughing at each other's acquaintance, cars roaring

Moving forward, forgetting that I ever loved

Walking on the street in July

The clown is lonely, the beggar is rich

The man selling poetry books at the crossroads

Under the glow of the sun

With his head held high and his back straight

A leaping salted fish swims across his spine

Could it be that language is a service organization

needing to wait in line for custom?

In July, amidst the green algae of the nesting lake

My broken boat set sail

The little silver fish whispered and laughed at me

Look, this young captain

Carrying so many broken poems

Soon the boat will break and die

And float on the lake for us to play with

Rhyme, you pretentious noblewoman

Why not throw off your high heels and run with me

See how the night and the streetlight grow together

See how he falls in love with the ideal at first sight

See how he jumps back up from the rain

Picking up the poetry book soaked in the puddle

With pupils on fire and a look of indifference

A fierce wind will roll in his heart

Pointing his hand at Chaohu Lake, he laughs wildly.

Salted fish, don't let the world turn you into bait

Waves, you will be my lifelong friend

Chaohu, no matter how far you are, you will lead to the sea

The ocean is my journey

The sun is my lover

The earth is my home

The wind is my solace

I don't want to die like this

Only because I have to create

Borrowing words from the world

To create a spiritual tomb of my own

I ask that there be nothing on the tombstone

The process of creation is the truest happiness