A Way Station

Author: Runping Chen Here arrived the strange way station And the train was like a long snake, Leaning on the small platform. The dawn was at the scene While I was silently standing on the strange place, Just as a lonely star on the night screen. The wind from the platform Drove me away into the waiting hall. The poor building fled away from the night darkness With the half-waking lights, its winking eyes Which looked at the old clock on the south wall. The night was bantering The travellers’ drowsiness laid on the benches. The leaving people’s heartbeats hurried the clock pendulum While the staying ones having been snoring But me seated on the bench and shivering Several stars stitched to the roaring train And flew away As if it cut through the sky screen From whose rupture the noisy was gushing— Washing faces; giving a lift; serving you dinner or breakfast noodles. I struggled to keep up my spirit Just like the morning star in the east sky Nervously peeping around At a few lumps of burning clouds on the grey screen When the stories at the way station were again on show in sunshine.