Tuesday, March 15, 2011

world wide reading


We ask all of you to read this poem and to let us know through a comment where the poem was read.
Thanks for all you do for Freedom of Expression and the writers in prison because of their writings..
You Wait for Me with Dust


- for my wife, who waits every day


by Liu Xiaobo


nothing remains in your name, nothing
but to wait for me, together with the dust of our home 
those layers 
amassed, overflowing, in every corner 
you're unwilling to pull apart the curtains
and let the light disturb their stillness
over the bookshelf, the handwritten label is covered in dust
on the carpet the pattern inhales the dust
when you are writing a letter to me 
and love that the nib’s tipped with dust
my eyes are stabbed with pain

you sit there all day long 
not daring to move 
for fear that your footsteps will trample the dust 
you try to control your breathing 
using silence to write a story. 
At times like this 
the suffocating dust offers the only loyalty

your vision, breath and time
permeate the dust 
in the depth of your soul 
the tomb inch by inch is 
piled up from the feet
reaching the chest 
reaching the throat

you know that the tomb 
is your best resting place 
waiting for me there 
with no source of fear or alarm 
this is why you prefer dust
in the dark, in calm suffocation 
waiting, waiting for me 
you wait for me with dust

refusing the sunlight and movement of air 
just let the dust bury you altogether 
just let yourself fall asleep in the dust
until I return
and you come awake 
wiping the dust from your skin and your soul.
What a miracle – back from the dead. 

April 9th 1999

No comments:

Post a Comment