come to the open window

Put down the stationery,
come to the open window.
I'm holding a lamp up high
for you —
see me from this distance.

Wind walks over the dawning earth,
sweeping the sky clean.
Night is still picking up
its broken pieces along the street.
All flowers, all green twigs
will taste another morning frost,
though crimson dawn is not far away.

The sea smell is locked behind mountains,
they can't keep on robbing us of our youth.
And they won't delay us long.
Promise me — no tears.

Come to the window and meet me
if you feel lonely:
let's see each other's sad smile
and swap poems of struggle and joy.


Shu Ting