动车 · 恸车
When the morning train left Beijing on July 23 2011, the passengers did not expect their fancy vehicle would become the train of mourning. Roaring on the high-speed rail link southbound, it was often described to be traveling like a bolt of lightening – until it was struck by a real one. Talk about irony.
The disastrous collision may be a perfect metaphor for contemporary China. For decades, the whole nation has transformed into a high-speed train with a sole engine of GDP. The unstoppable monster has long derailed from the tracks of law and moral values. Like any desperados on the run, the Chinese Communist Party kidnapped this intimidating vehicle, and drives it recklessly to its self-destruction. All the Chinese on board serve as both cheap fuel for the engine and also ceremonious funerary objects to the doomed wreckage…
Sadly, even though deep sorrow, anger, and powerlessness keep me up at such a deep night, all I can do is send a few keyboard strokes to the departed. May they rest in peace. At least, Heaven doesn’t have high-speed train, thunders, or Communists.
来不及收拾散落的玩具、手机
记忆、甚至躯体
下一趟车已经出发
人人都在急赴末世的宴席
我们等不及
招魂幡也不必升起
我们一路狂奔
灵魂早已随风而逝
透过车窗 最后一瞥
为什么它们掩面啜泣
不怕它们化成魑魅魍魉
我们不可一世 富裕张扬
豪迈 如殉葬的兵马俑
在权力眼里
却根本没有生命的痕迹
我们还兼为这趟夜行列车
卑微的燃料
青烟缕缕
是给GDP 图腾和
红朝盛世的血祭
我们都是小伊伊
在这个神奇的国度里
生存本身就是奇迹
我们都是小伊伊
要活着从和谐号的残壳里爬出去
