Who is knocking at the door under the moon,
Watching the stones bloom their flowers.
The music player loisters at the corridor,
Making people's heart beating and touched.
Not knowing it is day or night.
The running water and the gold fish
Move and motion the directions of the time and light.
The sunflower is wounded,
Showing the way.
The blinds stand on
The imcomprehensible light.
Catching the anger.
The assassin and the moon
Going together, to a place far away.
(Translated by oswald, poem 重影by Bei Dao)