The Lone Yan
Wen Yiduo

You, unfortunate lost solitary wanderer!
Who told you to desert your friends,
And break away from the column,
Straying into this God-forsaken waterland,
And with all your broken heart
Pouring forth your unending sorrows?

Oh! Out of a dense drape of floating clouds
You pour forth such a mournful cry,
So full of pain and deep feelings!

You lonely drifter!
Cry no more!
The sound waves from your feeble cry
In the midst of thundering billows
Are no more than a drop of the white foam
On the top of a breaking wave!

You piteous lonely soul!
Turn not your head toward heaven,
A boundless secret,
A puzzle wrapped in blue,
Too profound for you to penetrate.
Neither should you turn to the depth of the sea,
The ruffian who keeps berating heaven.
Do not let his briny spittle soak your wings,
Thus delaying your journey.

Oh! You wandering lonely bird!
Where are you flying to?
The other side of the Pacific?
Do you know what is over there?

Oh! That is the territory of a preying eagle,
A ruthless tyrant…
His sharp claws
Tear to pieces the face of nature
To build the habitat of the rich.
There we find only iron and steel machines,
Which, drunk with the blood of the weak,
Spout evil black smoke,
Polluting the air, darkening the sun and the moon.
Making you lose direction in your flight,
Not knowing where to find a resting place when wishing to rest.

Oh! You, a lost solitary wanderer!
Where will you be heading for?
Oh! You, a bird which follows the sun
In pursuit of the light!
I do not believe the foul smelling slaughter house,
The blackened stove
Could attract your step!

Come back, you wandering soul who have lost your way!
Come back to join your fellows,
To fill the depleted ranks.
They stretch their necks, hoping to have you back.

Come back to rest in the frosty reed hushes.
There the west wind
Will go hunting fluffy reed catkins for your bed,
To keep your sweet dreams comfortably warm.

Come back to swim in the warm and soft haven,
Where you'll find your bath.
Come back to walk on the wave-lapped sandy beach, and,
Under the soft silvery moon,
Dance playfully with your own shadow.

Come back, you wandering lonely bird!
Rather than with all your broken heart
Pouring forth your unending sorrows
In this deserted edge of the waterland,
It would be far better to beat your returning wings to come back.

But this hurricane, allowing no argument,
Carries me steadily forward.
Besides there is a letter tied to my feet;
How could I follow my selfish inclination
And abandon my mission
To set my wings around to return home?