"The Red Flood" by Rob Chen

[羅拔]

--In memory of my departed grandparents

They just departed gently from the balcony,
as dragonflies skimmed the sea of memory,
circling a whirlpool.

She bid us farewell through the shivering voice of a stranger.
I dumbly depicted her look when falling,
her appearance after the fall,
and lost my ability to cry and fear.

By a tenacious faith he had prolonged his lifeline.
Metals and guns in hands,
a colonel he was, from the 13th session graduate of Whampoa Military Academy.
For so many times he prevented the Death from roaring, and smiled home,
but in the end he followed her way
F
A
L
L
I
N
G
into pieces of a widower's loneliness.

(The reaping-hook hanging high in the sky that night was the flag of victory from the Death)

Sisyphus pushed the rock atop, and the rock rolled down.
Sisyphus pushed the rock atop, and the rock rolled down.

Two streams slowly flew across my dream.
At its confluence, a rock stood
in silence, repenting and dripping
tears in red.