Devotedly go for the glory, gloomy the earth turns,
We, the lights, the cement book
We read, the truth we learn.
Explode the bomb of gold,
Victims we would rather be,
To people the wounds we could show.
The archaeologist may come to know,
The film negative's epoch spirit,
A boy is grabbing it, say No.
It is the history interferes with our flying,
It is the bird hampers our walking,
It is the feet impedes our dreams making.
It is we give birth of us,
It is birth
(translated by oswald, poem 新世紀by Bei Dao)