it’s the same old thing, day after day,
sun rises, moon wanes, ash floats in the gray,
life – what is it truly – continues to crawl on
in the shape of the cars skidding on the highways – gone
within a flash, people too busy to look up and see,
i feel alone – my heart is silent, there is no beat.
but, they say, i am 爱, hidden by the blurriness of my eyes,
can’t see the tears that blind me at night,
and, they say, i am 爱, hidden by the blurriness of my eyes,
can’t unsee the black and white that clouds my sight.
i – singular person, speck of dust in a dust storm,
is this the only difference i can make – to live in this pitiful form?
we die in the end, is living worth it?
but, aye, i am 爱 – love in foreign words that somehow fit –
pqrst – my heart beats once, ba bum.
and, they continue to say, i am 爱, still hidden by the blurriness of my eyes,
can’t see past the blinding light at night,
continuing, they say, i am 爱, still hidden by the blurriness of my eyes,
can’t unsee the blending grey that clouds my sight.
life in the night under the moonlit sky
has no meaning except that to die
would perhaps be the culmination of something so great
that life was worth living, day after day,
of not being perfect but being simply real in a broken paradise,
my heart beats again, once, twice, thrice.
and, we say, i am 爱, revealed by the clarity of my eyes,
can’t see past the stars lighting up the night,
together, we proclaim, i am 爱, revealed by the clarity of my eyes,
can’t unsee the rainbows that arc across my sight.
author’s note: 爱 (ai, or pronounced as “i”) means love in Chinese