Crazy pomegranate tree
Egris, Greece
In these whitewashed gardens, when the south wind
Whisper through the arched corridor and tell me it's a crazy pomegranate tree.
Jump in the sun, play and whisper in the wind.
Laughter scattered her fruit? Tell me,
When she showed her victory color in the early morning sky,
Is that crazy pomegranate tree jumping with new branches and leaves?
When the naked girl woke up on the grass,
Picking green clover with snow-white hands,
Wandering on the edge of a dream, tell me, it's a crazy pomegranate tree,
Surprised to find the lights on their new basket,
Let their names echo in the songs of birds and tell me,
Is that crazy pomegranate tree competing with the cloudy sky?
When the day is covered with enviable seven-color feathers,
Surround the immortal sun with thousands of dazzling prisms,
Tell me, it is that crazy pomegranate tree.
Grab the tail mane of a running horse,
It doesn't grieve or complain; Tell me, it is that crazy pomegranate tree.
Yelling at the hope of new life?
Tell me, it was that crazy pomegranate tree that welcomed us from afar.
Throw a leaf handkerchief like a coal fire,
When the sea is about to rise thousands of times, it will retreat into the tide of the lonely coast.
Drop thousands of ships and tell me.
It's a crazy pomegranate tree
Let the sails creak in the transparent air?
The green grape clusters hanging high proudly glow,
Revelry, full of danger of falling, tell me,
It's a crazy pomegranate tree shattered by light in the middle of the world.
The devil's sinister climate, which stretches everywhere with the orange collar during the day,
The collar is embroidered with the song of dawn, tell me,
Is it a crazy pomegranate tree that quickly uncovers silk shirts during the day?
In skirts in early April and cicadas in mid-August,
Tell me, dancing girl, angry girl, seduced girl,
He banished all malicious black and evil shadows,
The man who poured the dizzy bird on the sun's chest,
Tell me, in the arms of all things, in our deepest dreams,
Is she a crazy pomegranate tree with wings spread?
(translated by Yuan Kejia)
Another poem with the poet:
The era of blue memory
Olive groves and vineyards stretch all the way to the sea.
Red fishing boats are farther away in memory.
In August, the golden cricket is taking a nap.
Mussels and seaweed lie beside them.
The newly-built green hull is immersed in calm sea water.
The words "God will arrange" are still faintly visible.
Time passes like leaves and stones.
I remember those young people, those sailors.
When they set out, they were reflecting on their hearts.
Painting colorful sails and singing the ends of the earth.