逃　亡

   The Escape （VIII E）

       *      XV      *

Lonely and lowly,

        still and slowly I proceeded.

Both night and day,

        I drove myself toward my aim.

Soon I met several men,

        they too were poor refugees.

Made friends with them,

        and I joined with them to escape.

The farther I departed from my wife,

       the more I met such friends.

The nearer I approached the border,

        the bitterer was the scene.

On the road, in the day time,

        people were in groups, in trains.

Off the road, under the moon light,

        corpses and skeletons could be seen.

Some people were in companies,

        trudging on the hillside.

Some were in families,

        collapsing at the roadside.

There was a father carrying his son,

        already cold and hard.

There were kids patting their mother,

        lying there already died.

Some skeletons, long weathered,

        still prayingly prostrating there.

Some corpses lying supine,

        with eyes staring, teeth bare.

Some were lacerated

        by the dogs or wolves.

Some were lots and lots of

        black ant and white worms.  

When there was famine

        people would flee.

But not like this time,

        it was so disastrous.

A tyranny is more savage

        than ravaging flood.

A despot is more severe

        than scorching drought.  

The national treasure stores

        were deep as oceans.

The government’s grain stocks

        were high as mountains.

They were to ship abroad

        in exchange for weapons,

To empower the Party’s control

       and Chairman’s commandment.

One month for one person

      a small quantity of grain.

One year for one family

      a short length of fabric.

If you ate at morning,

      there was no more at evening.

If you patched it at the front,

      there was nothing for the hind.

But the new lords clothed themselves

        with silks and synthetics.

The high cadres ate only

        various hearts and livers.

At day time, on the stage,

        they’d cry with tears and snivels.

Back home, all the night,

        they’d rapture with girls and liquors.

Traditionally our people

        are not afraid of hardship.

Neither would we be envious

        if one is fortunate and powerful.

Only if our rights are all deprived,

        our lives are directly imperiled,

Would we leave our home,

        try to save our miserable selves.

Suppose it was only death,

        we wouldn’t be so scared;

If it’s not so cruel,

         if it’s not so painful.

A hundred times to cut our flesh,

        a thousand times, crush our nerves!

How could we endure it?

        How could we stay unruffled!

In the former years

        the crops were better;

Yet how many had join-handed

        and eventually fled together!

They risked all the dangers,

        finally came to this border;

Consequently shed their blood

        to dye the hills and rivers.

Now the fence was partially open, 

        the escape was tacitly allowed.

Whole families came from all regions

        to seek shelter under a foreign law.

Too bad, some still met hindrance,

        eventually were also slaughtered.

Some lost their dear lives, as well,

        because their strength was exhausted.

I myself had little food

        for many days and nights.

Difficult were my steps,

        hazy was my eyesight.

Had the intention to help them,

        but how could I have the might?

I could only harden my heart

        and ignore the whole sight.

I took care of myself

        and encouraged my own legs.

“Go, man! Go, man!

        Don’t stop!  Don’t collapse!”

After hundreds of rivers

        and thousands of hills,

At last, I too came to the border:

        the last stop to leave the hell.

   *      XVI      *

How joyful was that night!

        I silently celebrated.

The moonlight was bright.

        The hills, well illuminated.

How pleasant was the climate

        of southern China in May!

 Soft breeze was so soothing.

        Warm air, so compassionate.

Standing on the ridge top,

        carefully I looked.

 There was a river flowing

        at the foot of the hill below.

Beyond it is democracy,

        the land of all our hope.

This side is autocracy,

        the land of all kinds of woe.

Some of the people coming up,

        softly exclaimed or hurrayed.       

They hopped, hopped, turned and turned,

        dashed down as if in a craze.

Some of the people seeing it,

        silently sighed and prayed.

They wept, kowtowed, wept, kowtowed,

        then chased down like a breeze.

In order to surely avoid

         from troops blocking our way,

Many of us chose to stay

        on the ridge to look and wait.

So as the moon would set,

        and sight would be vague.

It’d be easier to fool the patrol

        and safer to infiltrate.

I took the time and opportunity

        to gather some knowledge.

I wanted it be surely successful

        for my very arduous escape.

If there was any group discussing

        in an understandable language,

I’d join them and eagerly ask them

        how to get through, sound and safe.

Most of them said that

        they also didn’t know.

They were waiting to see

        how the others would go.

“Depending on the situation we’ll meet,”

        they said, “then decide what to do.

If we are brave and careful enough,

        any barrier can be gotten through.” 

Finding a place, then,

        temporarily I rested.

I should apply the time

        also to ease my legs.

Intended to take a short nap

        but I was just sleepless.

Intended to be somewhat relaxed

        but I became more restless.

Looking forward to the south

        the city was not in sight,

But I could imagine its prosperity

        by the reflection of its light.

Looking back to the north

        the view was far and wide.

It was ghostly dark and silent,

        nothing there was bright.

I thought of those relatives and friends

        still living in my home land.

Those fellow villagers and sufferers

        still struggling under those cruel men.

“Why do you not all escape?

        Why don’t you come here too?

How will you get through your lives?

        What will you be -- and do?”

I remembered those gangsters and bastards

        still dominating our native town.

Those cadres of village and district,

        big and small, old and young.

“Henceforth I shall never see you,

        shall never suffer under your weight.

I am waiting to see your retribution!

        How long, how much, can you violate?”

I recollected the persecutions and tribulations

        of those harsh and horrible days.

Also those hazards and hardships

        on the long-length, long-last way.

I recalled my son, though he was foolish,

        how reverent and courageous was his heart!

And my wife, though she was clumsy,

        how much we loved and relied on each other.

Sorrow was building up and bursting out

        from all parts of my inner being.

Thought and thought and very soon

        my tears fell without constraint.

I forgot myself and the people around,

        that we were still within the iron fence.

Suddenly – painfully, loudly I cried…

        without any embarrassment and restraint.

Those who were sitting or standing near me,

        hurriedly they ran or came to see.

Some asked, some patted, some shook me;

        they all tried to pacify and comfort me.

Hurriedly I stopped my calling and crying,

        tried to change sorrow with cheer.

Repeatedly I nodded and apologized,

        and gasped, and wiped my tears.

Stopped being emotional, to be quiet for a while,

        then focused my mind on the problem before me.

How to manage to get through the last obstacle

        and eventually, successfully, to be free.

Suddenly I thought it was uncertain.

        “Can I easily, safely attain the goal?”

I could not help trembling slightly,

        both my body and heart felt cold.

To be continued ---