Summary

One day we confront the time
And whisper to our own;

Our demise may not mark in the Ether
Our love may not arouse the napping Star
But still we won’t complain to the nature,

Oh the Virgin Earth, we too are lover.

Whose sun stale
Never strive to excel,
Even don’t search for the static central;
Two-three fireflies twinkle round the helm
Enough life for them
They don’t long for our battle.

We are not those countrymen
Eat, couple, sleep and cease forever,
Strive only to negate the primitive fear.

Death, as simple as our living
But do our lives so simple still?
We, the part of that intricacy
It doesn’t have any summary.

We are souls strange beside the North-Door
We are bards of the Crossroad
We are Jurassic, we are Jujutsu,
We are the Nauchiketa forever.

Our verses, not the tragic Narcissus
Nor grimy with Self-hug;

They are Ragas of lives passed and to come
They are Bebop of the river,
Our first love for the Earth.

The haven of our love
Proud of the tides that turn,
Singing a Beethoven miles away
Crossing the rim of the Other-part,
A distant Monk and so on
Gulping Hemlock for the sin of bringing Sun
Ignite the lamp of our civilization,
Bring us the news of a Tiny-shore.

There is no summary of our journey
There is no summary of the tide,
Can’t be for any flinty Poesy;
Only be for stale wisdom
And the Dead Rally.