Sunday, October 13, 2013

吃苦 (chīkǔ).

Even when the water tries to drown me
wave by wave,
and my body becomes a flooding home,
I still find myself afloat.
Even when winter days try to follow me
as if my brittle bones
are made of nothing but ice,
I still find a way to keep myself warm.
Even when the storms may threaten
the very foundations of my home,
I am not destroyed.
I remember the beauty 
that can be reflected in those waves,
I remember the beautiful sculptures
that can be chiseled from that ice,
and I remember how life continues,
even after that storm.

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