一支迁徙的部落
            ――梦见我的祖先

我看见他们从远方走来
穿过那沉沉的黑夜
那一张张黑色的面孔
浮现在遥远的草原
他们披着月光编织的披毡
托着刚刚睡去的黑暗
当一条深沉的
黑色的河
从这土地上流过
在那黑暗骚动的群山上
总有一双美丽的眼睛
――无畏的关闭
可祖先的图腾啊
照样要高高地举起
尽管是一个勇敢的酋长
在黎明时死去
（我看见一个孩子站在山岗上
双手拿着被剪断的脐带
充满了忧伤）

我看见他们从远方走来
那些脚印风化成古老的彝文
有一部古老的史诗
讲述着关于生和死的事情
可那些强悍的男人
可那些多情的女人
在不屈的头颅和野性的胸脯上
照样结满诱人的果实
当那些神秘的实物
掉落在大地上时
远方的处女林会发出
痛苦而又甜蜜的回音
于是这土地的子宫里
便有一棵黑色的树
在疯狂地生长
尽管有一对不幸的情人
吊死在这棵树上

（我看见一个孩子站在山岗上
双手拿着被剪断的脐带
充满了忧伤）
我看见他们从远方走来
头上是一颗古老的太阳
不知还有没有黄昏星
因为有一个老人在黄昏时火葬了
这时只有那荒原上
还有一群怀孕的女人
在为一个人的诞生而歌唱
当星星降落到
所有微笑的峭壁上
永恒的黄昏星还在那里闪耀
有一天当一支摇篮曲
真的变成了相思鸟
一个古老的民族啊
还会不会就这样
永远充满玫瑰色的幻想
尽管有一只鹰
在雷电过后
只留下滴血的翅膀

（我看见一个孩子站在山岗上
双手拿着被剪断的脐带
充满了忧伤）

A  Migrated  Tribe     

        -------- Dreaming of my forefathers

I see them coming up from a remote place
through the dark and long night
Their dark faces
appearing in the distant grassland
They have felt capes woven with moonlight over their shoulders
holding the sleeping darkness
When a deep
      and black river
flows over this land
A pair of beautiful ayes
-------- always shut fearlessly
in the dark and tumultuous mountains
However, my forefathers’ totem
is risen highly as before
although another brave chieftain
has died at dawn
( I see a child standing on the hillock
holding a cut-broken umbilical cord in both hands
full of sorrows )

I see them coming up from a remote place
Their footmarks have changed into the ancient Yi characters in history
An ancient epic tells of
some stories about life and death
However, those strong and intrepid men
and those women full of tenderness
bear captivating fruits
on the unbending head and the wild chest
     When those mysterious material objects 
     fall down on the land
the virgin forest in the distance
will echo painfully but sweetly
Thus, a black tree
will grow like mad
in the womb of this land
Although a pair of lovers
has hung themselves in this tree

( I see a child standing on the hillock
holding a cut-broken umbilical cord in both hands
full of sorrows )
I see them coming up from a remote place
Over their heads is an ancient sun
I don’t know if the Dusk Star is in the sky
for an old man was cremated at dusk
This moment in the wilderness
a group of pregnant women
are singing for a new-born baby
      When all stars have fallen down
on the smiling cliffs
only the eternal Dusk Star keeps twinkling there
If, some day, a cradlesong truly 
     turns into a red-billed leiothrix
O, this ancient nationality
Will you be always
full of rosy dreams like this
Although an eagle
only has his bleeding wings left
after being struck by lightning

(I see a child standing on the hillock
holding a cut-broken umbilical cord in both hands
full of sorrows )