PARTING BEFORE DAYBREAK – Poetry, by An Qi

PARTING BEFORE DAYBREAK

First the day, then daybreak, and finally the time for parting. Local time in Beijing is 7 o’clock according to the TV. As a child, I liked to lie in bed, and wait for daybreak, my silver broach stayed in its soft dormant curve. I counted my fingers, exactly ten. Almost daybreak, but no light in the sky. At daybreak you come. Daylight is gone when you go. Days with light, days without light, days come, days go. You come, you go, coming and going, walking to me, and away from me. Now a grown-up, I still daydream, waiting for daybreak like waiting for an archaeologist to excavate, patting me with a spade, and expose me to daylight. Oh, oh, just as I feel the thrill, I see your hand leaving.

(An Qi)