AFTER WATCHING LIUQI’S PAINTINGS
The blue belongs to
This color clot
Or that black hole
Just in the center
Perhaps arises from
The depression of the contrast
Which consists of those upset colors
I am
The sweet shining little prince
In the dark
A sorrow hangs down
Swiftly it goes high
Then hover and hover
Slowly turning to
a light beam of smoke
As if choked by tears
Hardly to say a word
I am addicted in
Wandering in the grains
I have my own
Rose, Fox and
Golden wheat waves.
However,
Sometimes I am obsessed with
Dancing alone
In the continuous flood of history
In caves located by the side of
Yellow river
On the wall of Dunhuang Mogao Grottoes
On the back of
The whirling carousel.
Other times
I am with those people
loved deeply—
The scene includes
The spicy fish with the red hot mouth
The slim figure hidden in the
Light and shadow
In my memory of youth
The golden meditation
Born in a dream
Which originated from another dream.
There came a break
When I became
an Epigraphy and a stone calligraphy in Wei dynasty
Drowned into aura of ancient Changan
The cicada was chirping lonely
It flirted with the Taihu stone
The song spreading all of its holes
The moon from Qin dynasty
Climbing up to the end of
The Willow branches
The troth with eternity shall rise
In the tranquility.
The blue belongs to
This color clot
Or that black hole
Just in the center
Perhaps arises from
The depression of the contrast
Which consists of those upset colors
I am
The sweet shining little prince
In the dark
A sorrow hangs down
Swiftly it goes high
Then hover and hover
Slowly turning to
a light beam of smoke
As if choked by tears
Hardly to say a word
I am addicted in
Wandering in the grains
I have my own
Rose, Fox and
Golden wheat waves.
However,
Sometimes I am obsessed with
Dancing alone
In the continuous flood of history
In caves located by the side of
Yellow river
On the wall of Dunhuang Mogao Grottoes
On the back of
The whirling carousel.
Other times
I am with those people
loved deeply—
The scene includes
The spicy fish with the red hot mouth
The slim figure hidden in the
Light and shadow
In my memory of youth
The golden meditation
Born in a dream
Which originated from another dream.
There came a break
When I became
an Epigraphy and a stone calligraphy in Wei dynasty
Drowned into aura of ancient Changan
The cicada was chirping lonely
It flirted with the Taihu stone
The song spreading all of its holes
The moon from Qin dynasty
Climbing up to the end of
The Willow branches
The troth with eternity shall rise
In the tranquility.
