Stones

They have the appearance of Nuosu people’s facesliving in the loneliest region of the mountainsThese seemingly lifeless objects,Their dark foreheads covered in eagle prints(When the feelings that time pours forthhave passed through all illusory seasonsgazing at ancient sky and familiar landboundless dreams, blurred memories,only the flame the sunlight has burned intobrings them close to death’s slumberBut who can tell meif they contain the misfortunes of mankind)

I’ve seen many lifeless objectsThey have the appearance of Nuosu people’s facesThe silence of one century after the nexthasn’t eased their pain