The dragon's lair

A personal collection of verse

III

Bei Dao


no exceptions to the particulars

from river-willow strips to cicada song
roll up the long scroll of the dynasty
strangers and guests brush shoulders as they pass
count the crows on the city-gate towers
the noise makes people agitated

my childhood my city
all the lights are blinking

green signal flares rise up
tanks crush historical idealism
underground bass cuts in and out
a knife slices through glass
tree roots rupture  flowers groan

a command becomes a row of soldiers
guns are the only truth

bullet holes decorate the monument
embellishments since the year 1840
—carved reliefs of modern history
“no one was killed on the square”
stone lions deaf-mute witnesses

from West Berlin to Beijing
line busy  cutting in and out

this is the Beijing of nursery rhymes
unfortified defenseless city
the only fate of resistance
makes the heart clench into a fist
that salutes the defeated

phantoms screech through the telephone lines
who is it  wiretaps or jammed signals

all the clocks have stopped
all the chimneys hold their breath
all the mirrors turn their backs
all the mules are blindfolded
all the water faucets choke in the throat

CNN breaking news
scanned photos transmitted

the sky above the city  smoke and flames
armored vehicles  steel helmets  gun muzzles
blood  flatbed tricycles  the wounded
dead faces  figures shake
no screaming  no gunfire

early one Sunday morning
at the Forbidden City
by the shore of the Tongzi River

someone still voice-training
echoes bouncing off the red walls
his singing so sonorous and clear
rippling the corner turret aslant in the water
a drumbeat leads history across the stage

pushes toward the silent hospital
at the surgical blade endstation
youth shatters like ancient porcelain
freedom tears off the old bandage
the heart is the engine of madness
roars turn into hushed murmurs
military marches  without borders

translated by: Jeffrey Yang