The Story of a Stone

Translated from the Chinese

Naked is a good word

That must not be desecrated.

The heart doesn’t hide dirt,

So it can beat free till it dies.

I like stones, and their cracks,

With wounds that don’t bleed.

Their bodies resist any forced expressions

Whether they lie on land or at sea,

Whether they are lifted high or abandoned,

Even if they are covered with scars.

My previous life is a stone.

I’m still paying my debt.

Wind, rain, thunder, and lightning

Stretch my body and move my blood.

I don’t wear a mask or change my face,

Nothing in this world makes me feel attached.

I’m used to being stamped upon,

Used to lying at the bottom.

If someone stumbles on me,

That person needs to examine himself,

As I’ve been lying in the same spot, naked.

Notes:

This poem is part of the portfolio “Wind Crossing Grasses: Poems from Poems from China’s Dragon Rivers.” The folio is an excerpt from the forthcoming anthology of the same name, translated and edited by Wang Ping, with a co-introduction from Gary Snyder (Kinship Poetry Press, 2026). You can read the rest of the folio in the July/August 2025 issue.

Source: Poetry (July/August 2025)