69
Once on a dairy farm,
At a creamy dusk,
Thousands of young Gypsies,
Worshipping Sun and Rainbows.
Oh, my poor Gypsies,
Showered by rocks,
Hard and soft,
Blue and purple,
Till they became colorful chalks.
Oh, my innocent Gypsies,
On stones, painting peace and love.
Once on a barren farm,
At a chilling dawn,
Thousands of young Crazies,
Worshipping Sun and Maonotone.
Oh, my poor Crazies,
Shoveling and trimming rocks,
Rectangle and square,
Black and grey,
Till they became uniform building blocks.
Oh, my innocent Crazies,
On water, constructing utopia and mirage.
Six in my eyes,
What’s in your eyes?
Nine in the past,
What’s in the present?
突然发现 1969 年发生了很多事情， 很值得思考， 巧得很， 世界在不同的极端里， 就像6和9， 所以写了这首诗。 选了那年的美国， 那年的中国， 希望不是太隐晦， 又不是太直白。
