Green flames flicker over the grass,
He is thirsty for embracing you, flower.
Rebellious against the earth, flower shoots
When a warm wind blows anxiety or joy.
If you awake, push the window open,
Watch the beauty of desire overflowing the garden.
Under the azure sky, puzzled by eternal mystery,
Are you closed bodies of twenty years old,
Like twittering songs of clay-made birds;
You’re burning , but nowhere to land.
Ah, light, shade, sound, color, all naked,
Pain for getting into a new patter.
Green fire shimmers on the grass
And yearns to embrace you, O flower.
Struggling from the earth, blossoms stretch upward
As warm breezes ruffle them or soothe them.
If you are awake, open your window
On the loveliness of this garden full of desire.
Under a blue sky, the eternal mysteries bewitch
Our twenty-year-old bodies, so restrained,
Just like the songs of birds made out of clay.
You are kindled, curling, curling, with nothing to yield to:
Light, shadow, sound, colour all stripped bare,
Agonized, longing to stretch out, to form new alliances.
（Herbert Batt and Sheldon Zitner 译）
Green flames flickers across the grass,
Aches to embrace you, flower.
Struggling from soil,
As warm breezes bring sorrow, or joy.
If you’re awake, push open the window,
See how lovely are the desires that fill the garden.
Under blue sky, bewitched by eternal mysteries,
Our bodies lie tightly-clasped, twenty years old,
Like ceramic birdsongs;
You are enflamed, curling again and again,
But unable to find a final destination.
O light, shade, sound, hue – all are stripped naked,
Enduring pain, waiting to enter new combinations.