the flying dust of the mortal realm

not to speak of timely and wondrous rain falling upon ephemeral mountains,

nor to dwell on rare and unexpected footsteps echoing through nebulous valleys,

here’s yet another predictable batch of grainy residue,

still the mortal dust of the vast universe, ——

beyond the eaves, the lone call of a sparrow.

yes, pages of poetry, please become ashes and take flight.

the nebulous, ephemeral world is a speck of the deeply-cherishing heart.

the universe is a particle of indestructible dust drifting in the air.

飞尘

废名

不是想说着空山灵雨，

也不是想着虚谷足音，

又是一翻意中糟粕，

依然是宇宙的尘土，——

檐外一声麻雀的叫唤，

是的，诗稿请纸灰飞扬了。

虚空是一点爱惜的深心。

宇宙是一颗不损坏的飞尘。