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The Distance of My Home
At dawn, my dreams are torn Looking through the cracks I see a painting Of a camel as big as an elephant In her eyes I see my home At noon I come home from work The winter sky is broken into pieces The sunlight flows in from holes I gaze at the painting on the wall The camel is in heat, in its eyes I smell green grass I look around, footprints everywhere ... The snow-white prints belong to the baby Camels coming home The prints hotter than the earth belong To Buddha roaming around the world The cold prints like ice belong To the broken painting The prints darker than my eyes belong To those who have left home In the dark, night is approaching I have a dream in the light of poetry My dream floats in space— The horse saddle is still wet My cold fingers Stroke the painting on the wall— The desert in the shape of sand dunes Is the size of my home The distance of chipping and breaking Is the distance between countryside and city The time to heal Is beyond the dream