Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Jun Er

Remembrance of Things To Come

a brisk wind blew my vase over last night
the flowers scattered, the vase broke in two
the pieces lay on the ground with childlike innocence
I realize that sooner or later all my household things
will shatter in the wind
one by one they’ll leave me
me, I’ll be the last to shatter
lying with childlike innocence in a small dark room:
flowers growing on my head
swallows visiting it year after year
while that brisk wind that comes down from the sky
brings storms, thunder, a rage that will never shatter

REMEMBRANCE OF THINGS TO COME

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Remembrance of Things To Come

a brisk wind blew my vase over last night
the flowers scattered, the vase broke in two
the pieces lay on the ground with childlike innocence
I realize that sooner or later all my household things
will shatter in the wind
one by one they’ll leave me
me, I’ll be the last to shatter
lying with childlike innocence in a small dark room:
flowers growing on my head
swallows visiting it year after year
while that brisk wind that comes down from the sky
brings storms, thunder, a rage that will never shatter

Remembrance of Things To Come

a brisk wind blew my vase over last night
the flowers scattered, the vase broke in two
the pieces lay on the ground with childlike innocence
I realize that sooner or later all my household things
will shatter in the wind
one by one they’ll leave me
me, I’ll be the last to shatter
lying with childlike innocence in a small dark room:
flowers growing on my head
swallows visiting it year after year
while that brisk wind that comes down from the sky
brings storms, thunder, a rage that will never shatter
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