How many trips does it take to lose your soul?
For the end becomes buried in sand
As the wind blows
It’s hard to hate
yet hard to tolerate
A setting sun
that paints the sky grey
How many doors stay open for those who don’t dream?
For the end of the doorway waits
The reaper grim
A green light
is just another red light
A car speeds
but waits bitterly at the next junction in sight
We left the green grass
We left the red dust
We left the blue skies behind us
We can’t whitewash reality
and paint us wanderlust
Hair in frazzled braids
Life in faded shades
Beats in jaded ballads
Note: the translation seeks to retain certain rhyme or parallel structure, while capturing the emotional content. As such, certain lines in the English poem introduced a different imagery than the Chinese one.
Do drop a comment on how I could improve the translation too.
I wrote this poem at a time when I was shaken with multiple disappointments in life. As if many things I worked for suddenly lost its meaning.