The Chinese word for cactus, 仙人掌, translates as “Palm of the Immortals.”
The cactus grows not from immortal arms,
but vainly from the sands,
thirsting for a surgery:
Oh cut me, cut me open,
let me hear the water gush from me…
Comes a western trader,
peddling wigs as sleek as silver,
whose merchant-eyes pierce cacti
like they were strings of copper cash.
The cactus face goes green,
trembles that it might withstand
the winds that shift the sand.
仙人掌，并未长在仙人的手臂上
它徒然站立沙中
渴望一场手术
“切开我，让我听听自己喷水的声音！”
有商人从西方来
贩卖光滑如银的假发
商人的目光穿透它像穿透一枚铜钱
仙人掌面色发青
哆嗦着，以抵御风暴的移动
