Xiao Kaiyu, a journalist in Shanghai, but also a poet attentive to the things that describes social realities or events related personal emotions. Oddly enough, this man was born in China in 1962 tells us about his nation today in a special way, namely classical and Taoist. He is not a nozionista, in fact, he loves the blank tire and quiet, delivering to us the words that have the imprint of ineffability.
SPRING – by Xiao Kaiyu
“Call me, life!
Just like I call you, heroic!
Let me go down well.
Spring! That stuff!
I hate the clear intelligence and talkative.
I hate the old hypocrite,
most insidious of the young hypocrite,
enters the life, eh, life in a lie
as it gives the love!
Time slips irretrievably in the honey pot.
Its rich contrast,
my secret intimate developed
To proceed winding streets between mountains.
And behold, I am free.
Ah, a misstep! I want to leave. “