MY CHINA DREAM

I dream of becoming a scar on China’s face,

because when it was moaning and bleeding

I, too, trembled in spasms.

When it was weeping, I was

also drenched in tears.

Its pain throbs in my soul

and through me, reaches numerous people.

I dream of becoming a scar on China’s face.

When banners and praises are everywhere

I see intrigues in splendid disguise

and hear sighs and cries far away.

I am a mass of records

solidified by crimes and sufferings,

also by the denuded land.

However brightly China smiles,

I won’t share its honor

or embellish its beauty,

though I often think how

I might fade away eventually.