That’s Me in That Vine Chair

by Gao Jiangang
     trs. by Wang Ping

Winter scrawls crazy choreography on the window
A blue color on the plate
It’s ocean on the red-tiled roof
Oil barges take so long to sail by
Someone has been standing there, it’s a street light
Keeping the garden path quiet
A stone falls, that’s a sparrow
Then a school of cries drop
They’re the last leaves on trees
One of them stops on the window, but it’s just a lock
Keeping winter out
There’s a white shirt, oh, it’s a radiator
Pretending it’s another spring
There’s a face, oh a crystal clock
Running on imagined time
There’s a cloud, it’s steam from coffee
Reminding me of the fragrance in rain forests
There’s a glass of red wine, but it’s just burgundy floor
Brewing dawn between screen and table top
There’s a statue, that’s me in the vine chair
Trying to wake myself up