You want me to forget

Fishear
·
(edited)
·
IPFS
·
I dedicate a poem I wrote this fall and a painting I drew this spring to all those who refuse to forget during the changes in 2022.

Where flowers and fruits flourish,

I left with nothing but memories.

You say,

Forget about feuds and old enemies,

Whose garden tree has autumn leaves that don’t turn yellow?

You say,

Remember your kindness and kindness,

Who doesn't have gray hair in the mirror?


But if I forget the whip on my back,

The foot on top of the drowning head;

Forget the suffocating poem deep in the wrinkles,

The secret chain around the neck;

Forget the young hands holding the words tightly,

Wrapped alive in the golden sun,

Forget the woman abandoned by the world,

The last words to cut off both feet and walk out with blood.


If all this can be done on a maroon morning in late autumn,

Forget in the name of abundance and time,

Reconnect with the world with the handshake of forgiveness,

Then I am hijacking fraternity and opening the gate to hell,

Cheering and hugging the ghosts, telling the story of brotherhood.


You want me to forget, because I forgot where I came from,

I will praise your rotten history with a smile,

Before Shen died, he danced around the will-o'-the-wisp;

You want me to forget, because I forgot my way home,

He will also have a demented smile on his face,

Holding flowers in hands, salute the false savior of the unproductive land.


I'm not grateful,

None;

I don't forgive,

Not one.


When one hand holds another's hand,

Unfold your distorted picture of reality;

When one word awakens another,

With the whispers of millions of people,

Rename the passing water and quicksand,

Remark the boat-carving sword that sank into the River of Forgetfulness,

I can't forget this moment.


I saw the river of words slowly gushing out from countless bodies,

To the dry well of silence,

dry stream,

In fatigue, I dream of birds in the sky,

The mist longs for the fish of the ocean,

Gave wounds to the abused fields,

Lips that lost their color to the earth.


But on the day of harvest in God’s garden,

I won’t give you an extra punctuation mark.



First draft September 25, 2022

Final draft November 27, 2022



"Don't tell, don't forget"

"Don't Tell, Don't Forget", adapted from Botticelli's "The Birth of Venus"


CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

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Fishear寫作者,獨立人類學人。著有人類學田野故事集《邊緣的姿態》,人間飲食故事集《好吃的故事》。網站《魚書》主筆:http://fishletter.art 。一封郵件就能聯繫:ear@fishletter.art 在創作中,你我相遇。
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