Musing
Wen Yiduo

In silence, at dusk
From this desolate mind of mine
Often bursts forth odd thoughts
Disorderly, unformed thoughts;

Like a flock of timid, distrustful bats,
Those little strange creatures, neither beast or bird,
Flying out from the dust-clad, rain-soaked bell tower
Before an ancient temple.

Like untamable bats
My thoughts refuse to crawl only on the ground,
But want to circle in the sky,
Drawing patterns, round, elliptic, all kinds of circles.

In silence, at dusk
This desolate mind of mine
Often lets out odd thoughts
Imitating those bats.