Dream of a Butterfly/ Taichi/ Solitude

original poem 〈蝶之夢〉
english translation by Jeats 

Dream of a Butterfly

Have you been to a fancy Wonderland? 
There existed a deep dark green night sky 
Have you ever experienced there 
A beautiful encounter 
Since when the wind slightly stirred your garment 
I just recollected the time ago 
I seemed to have seen in pre-life 
Like this moment the mark shown on your nude 
A feast of breath-taking 
Rain of shooting stars 
Gradually floating in the wind 
Around me

original poem 〈太極〉
english translation by Jeats


Self, the night roamer regards the sky
Through a pipe. In fire has the Phoenix revived
Spectrum of cloud-smoke has moved toward
The other end of Melancholy, but
Perhaps year by year it is
The unbearable beauty of terror
And illusion
Sea, is now and then everywhere; Self as shadowed
Man in Mirror of mutual root
Mature, spirit, intangible Nirvana 
The mirror holder is aged increasingly while I get younger
Until the negative number is consumed as to
Infinite number
Human body reaches the feverish solitude of death
Sea is stuffed with positive matter
Briefly deviated from urgent balances
Ripples are being clamorous
Who, making common things obtain spirits 
To imitate their host
The sophisticated labyrinth is
Fabricated of the simplest complicatedness
Who leads him to trial-error
Who makes him oblivious
And entrusts him Memory
Passing away is simply the beginning unconscious
Poppy. Yi, metaphysical or physical
Everything in the universe, is, at least
Remembered or collected by someone or something
Pry the time bondage open with your faith and intuition
A blink is then another circle of life
Seeming so, my dream. It is the constant-abiding 
Night that stretches out its tentacles
Twisted with thin lines of my Destiny
Pro of Yan and Con of Yin, fragments
Maybe it’s just as Taichi
To stare up at endless stars; that’s all the Self
All  women are
The most beautiful Spiral
Nevertheless, I am also a mayfly or an ant
Divining future of chaos, fullness and emptiness ...........


original poem 〈孤寂〉
english translation by Jeats 


Seemingly such a flawless moment in Solitude 
Firmament as off its heavy burden 
A guest house of the vein of mine on the soulless terrene I, am just being 

 A outer shell without its snail



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