形成 — The Becoming

Hu Fang

My dear friend who is getting ready to depart
— I had been longing to be your companion
yet I am tangled up with my routine
Now, I could only silently gaze at 
your supposedly returning path
Between the dawn and dusk
Between the brightest star and the dimmest soul
Between promise and betrayal

Prologue—to my friend who is getting ready to depart

1

Tunneled through a smoggy
motorway which lingers on the mountain
All at once I found myself nailed down my feet in front of a boundless, enormous dam
In that place there were tricolor waves swirling:
copper-ish sulphur
blackish auburn iron
grayish lead and zinc
as if the fissure and the rift etched on the earth
Wantonly meshing, coagulating
On the deserted land
land that deserted human

The village foregone
woven with the wild grass
prolonged blazing sunshine
Bamboo and musabasjoo have gradually found out
how to comfort the wounded nerve of the mountain range

In between the crease of time
Universe elongates
As if bodies stretching
—you slightly turn your back
What beyond the deserted land
startlingly an animistic land comes into sight:
It is almost a hidden garden under the cliff
The grace of labor
has lit up the flaring firewood, dispersed the misty mountain mist
smoke rising up from the back of mud wall
Awaiting
Our descendants
Our descendants might could from the track of circular time
have a new start
landing on feet on the muddy puddle pavement

We still could not forecast
how long we still need to walk
just to witness the tremendous origin
And stratus slides
faulting peak floating upon
The destined lowering of night curtain stressed the melancholy of the land

2

Today 
in the underground
everyone is phubbing 
A girl has just broken into laughter
Leaning against you, a chubby woman
is transmitting tender signals
with her gently trembling body

The escalator that the underground exit leads to
has been out of order for so long
Whilst the television commercial
Murmuring numerous declarations, restlessly, to people
You guess you could, once again
continue with the daily recital in your mind
“Today I successfully touched the base of the Line 3 carriage 
Today I was able to tolerate 
suspending in the air
the spit and the bubbles of speeches and the plaza crowd
Tolerate the youths who stroke their mobile screens at all times
they send their warmest greeting to their buddies in illness”

In this manner
I guess I could sit on the pedestrian road
and endure with the falling dusk
getting myself to join the team of homeless

I clearly know I could not 
become a starry night
But at least I could turn into
those inescapable
shadows of humans

3

I am on the plaza of the inverted time
seeing myself walking towards this life-changing tipping point:
Once again I’ve squeezed a few books
in the overloaded rucksack
I foresaw myself on my future journey
keep leaving books on the road I walked across
Expecting there would be someone to pick them up
—In the soon-to-happen warfare
the existing books seem redundant

I just hope
The ignited thought by the flame of war
Could turn your crystallized existence
red hot, through smithing
Becoming the red hue of dusk
that humans could not wipe away
 
At this moment
I could get my gardening book
that I’d left in the forest
The book of cookery
handed over to humans
The book of geology
returned to the earth