One year they ordered me to make wheat.

有一年他们命我制作麦子。

Only my arms ripened,

我只有手臂成熟

wheat heads grew from my face.

脸上生芒。

Another year they ordered me to make hemp rope.

又有一年他们命我制造麻绳。

For a long time

有许多时间

thoughts twined and scattered.

思想缠绕乱飞。

Now, I sit before dawn writing poems.

现在，我坐在天亮前写诗。

You say my color’s not good,

你说我脸色不好。

that I look sick.

得了病了。

When I got this illness

得这病的时候

you were heading from the south of the country to the north.

你正从国南跑到国北。

You say

你说

you’re getting thin.

你在变轻

I see my malady is grave

我看见，我的病太重

because I fell in love with

全因为喜欢上

a parachute

从失血时节飘来的

floating over from the season of blood.

一把降落伞。

All my strengths

我的所有强劲

became downfalls.

全变成下落。

Only when I write about the world

我写世界

does it appear, head drooping.

世界才肯垂着头显现。

Only when I write about you

我写你

do you slip off your glasses and look at me.

你才摘下眼镜看我。

When I write about myself

我写自己时

I see my gloomy hair needs a cut.

看见头发阴郁，应该剪了。

If could make scissors

剪刀能制作

that would be splendid.

那才是真正了不起。

Please squint for once,

请你眯一下眼

walk away and don’t look back.

然后别回头地远远走开。

I’m writing poems.

我要写诗了

I am

我是

in my narrow room

我狭隘房间里

a stubborn maker.

固执的制作者。