This poem was written for my teacher of An Introduction to Literary Theory in Beijing Normal University. He has recently been awarded a "Noble" prize but most probably could not go to the ceremony due to his imprisonment. If anyone in mainland China searches his name in the Internet, there would be nothing. If anyone tries to publish to his name in the internet space, the characters of his name would be ***.
The Hidden String
It is something that has a name but denies any word,
It lies somewhere, tense, but eludes human touch and eyesight,
And it sounds and resounds with mysterious beauty
Even in the plain field and on the water.
If there is any playing, it is only purposely accidental,
And people who hear it do not hear with ears,
For no voice can imitate a single note that fits for a song for dead souls.
A conscientious one knows
The knowing of it is not an end but an endlessly approaching,
But whoever knows this smiles a bitter sweet smile,
Like the arch striding the nose bridge when one looks into another’s eyes.
If one recognizes in another the long lost unrequited love,
What else can one hope for?
Separate lovers in deep love need the embrace of darkness to sleep tight,
And the skylight can be sealed in the morning light.
10 Oct. 2010