Earth Mother, a mythical, benevolent Buddhist saint, is the central icon in the Potala Palace. She is said to have seven eyes, with which She can see into people's hearts. Her right leg is stretched out in symbolic suppression of anger and realization of mercy. Earth Mothers come in five colors-white, red, blue, yellow, and green-of which green is the most basic. A powerful roc with golden wings is perched atop the green Earth Mother's head; it is Her protector.
Night once again deceived people's eyes. The wind relentlessly toyed with the overripe berries. In the orange morning light, Mimi pushed open the double cedar doors. The earth was blotted with the reddish brown juice of crushed berries-already rotten, they hid a hope brighter than the eyes of birds in their hearts: now that winter had passed, who could stop the multicolored seeds from sprouting green buds? Mimi asked him about the ancient division of the seasons. Spring is spring winter is winter flowers bloom in the summertime fruit ripens on autumn days once you enter that time mountains rivers flowers trees wind clouds thunder lightning snow rain frost fog all things fuse or multiply even the excretions of men and women and boys and girls increase or decrease. He said it all in one breath.
Why?
People are powerless against the mysteries of heaven and earth. He put on a pair of greasy blue shorts and walked toward the inner room, his skin a snowy white. Mimi's heart floated softly along on two hairless, spindly legs. For days, Mimi had been longing for a snowfall that would cover the land, freezing heaven and earth, solidifying the people in their places to keep their corrupt souls from fluttering all over the streets, even if her own heart were also frozen into a lump of ice. Mimi wanted to stick out her scalding tongue-I'll kiss you, kiss every pore on your body, suck in all the hidden flavors. Her tongue was already frozen. Ice and snow fused heaven and earth, embracing withered branches and dead leaves, wastelands and abandoned slopes, the bare stems of shriveled petals and the ancient forest far from the bustling city, its ruined, rust-blotched trees, and those aged, green-skinned people hobbling all over the world. The aged people wore an overcoat of snow as they seduced the young by singing the praises of parental love. Spring came, the snow slunk away to reveal the ravaged land in all its ugliness. Beneath the sun's rays, it shed tears as it related a tale of shortlived purity and a false love it should never have known.
Kiss me. Why are you afraid of Her?
It just isn't right.
It's not fair. Just look at Her wrinkled old mouth that has been stamped by hundreds, thousands of full-blooded lips, a once rosy color that has peeled away completely from countless scrapings. A kiss, you have to kiss me in front of Her.
It's as out of place as wearing a bathing suit on the street. The sound of his voice shriveled into a lump; the words ran together.
It's as ridiculous as wearing a mandarin gown in a swimming pool.
Blasphemous, sacred motherly love!
I want what's mine, it's got nothing to do with Her!
OK, tonight we'll go to some deserted spot…
No, I don't want any more stolen kisses in the dark.
Mimi got up out of the bathtub, every pore on her bright, pink body spreading open willfully, steam obscuring the reflection of her tender fresh naked female body in the dressing mirror. She pressed her face against the cold silvery surface. Not a single wrinkle anywhere, especially on her pink forehead. In twenty-five years, nine thousand days and nights, those delicate lips had never tasted a bright shining kiss! What appeared to be an invisible dark hand in the mirror was thrust into Mimi's small narrow chest, where it stroked a weakly beating heart that was covered by a thick, heavy layer of dust. Two streams of hot tears gouged out two pale scars. In the darkness, Mimi was hopelessly entwined by pity.
If She opened her eyes, a lover's kiss would immediately become a sinful intrigue.
If in a world of respect for one's elders, there's no room for a kiss in broad daylight, I'd rather have languished in my mother's womb and never have opened my eyes.
Not so loud. Mother will hear. He was breathing hard, his every word chiseled on Mimi's heart.
Mimi composed herself and gazed at the pale tiny tightly closed mouth in the dressing mirror. Her pink body was cooling off, turning as pale as wax. A delicate hand glided down it from top to bottom as she mused, Maybe this doesn't belong to me. No… but maybe… Love knotted in her heart, spun a thread that circled the earth three times, maybe more. Mimi was sure that sooner or later, the world would be destroyed-by love.
Are you crying? Are you… The words stuck in his throat and simply wouldn't come out. He put a towel printed with cats' eyes- red, yellow, blue, white-over Mimi's shoulders. She shook her head, raining tears onto the back of his hand. When Mimi was little, Mama had said she was born under a crying star, that she had come into this world with tears in her eyes. Granny believed she was an unlucky child, so on snowy days she secretly fed her snowballs. Mimi's mouth was frozen open like a trumpet as she sang and sang and sang, never stopping. All Mama could do was buy a set of imported earplugs.
Are you crying again? His hand was lily-white and supple, so soft it seemed boneless. He wiped away the tears on her cheeks, then carried her back to the bathtub and the hot water. He rubbed her back, massaged her shoulders, then let his supple hands rest on her trembling breasts. Beads of water dripped through his fingers.
Ribbons of orange light filtered in through a dark-green bamboo grove. The ribbons, like spirit threads, tied up her tender little heart as they swayed back and forth. Pricked by sharp leaves, her heart settled like a fine powder over her childhood dream world, with all its colored lamps. The colored lamps congealed into a swarm of moths. The moths greedily sucked up the orange-colored light, which shone through their transparent wings. Mimi had been afraid of the moon's orange rays ever since she was little.
Knock-knock. She was at the door.
I'm taking a bath. What do you want?
Is he in there?
He…… Before she could get it out, he covered Mimi's lips with his boneless hand.
Say I'm not here. His mouth was boring into Mimi's ear.
Why?
I shouldn't be here while you're taking a bath.
I'm your wife, I share your bed. What's wrong with a bath?
Blasphemous… Blasphemous, sacred motherly love.
Ptui! Pettiness is the true blasphemous love! Mimi kicked the tub over. A pair of purple slippers floated toward the door on the spilled water.
Ai! A heavy sigh from the other side of the door splintered Mimi's heart. She hadn't left. Instead, She cupped a brilliant excuse in Her hands. I bought you a Moonlight Sonata tape. Come out here, and we'll listen to it together.
Ma-he was embarrassed beyond belief. A snow-white back slipped through the cedar doors.
It's my chest, the same old problem. The moans of a sick cat outside the door.
Ma-I'll massage it for you.
Mimi stood barefoot next to the window. She tumbled into a sea of mist, floated off toward a deep canyon-compressed into a breathless speck of dust, her bloodless lips parted, she gazed up at the creases squirming in the sky. A ruined face like a piece of rotting wood appeared in the tattered vault of heaven. Mimi rubbed her wildly beating heart. What is it I still want? she asked herself. Why hasn't my heart ossified? In spite of herself, Mimi looked down into the courtyard. That knifelike face spread out across a hairless, snow-white chest. Mimi was thinking, The flowers in Her eyes are blooming at an angle, the clouds are drifting at an angle, people are walking at an angle. Her happiness spilled out of Her crisscrossing creases. Like the new bloom of a withered flower, Her face came back to life. Four spindly legs intertwined; two bodies folded together. As though she were watching a centipede, Mimi hid, trembling, behind the curtain. Soap bubbles kept popping; water spread silently in all directions… A pair of tiny feet, made plump by soap bubbles, stepped on the scarlet gravel. A shout- Mama-the orbs of her buttocks arched as she walked, arched and quivered as though restless animals were hiding in them. Arms thrust out in front of her, Mimi ran toward the churning white foam stretching out before her, leaving behind a trail of happy birds' nests with her feet. A pile of bubbles was created in a second; a drab blueness required countless millennia. She ran into it, a fleshy red butterfly toying with a boundless expanse of waves. As she swam ahead, the fleshy red became white, the blue became a deep green.
Oh, Mama, the ocean isn't blue! Mimi raised her pudgy arms, threw them around Mama's youthful long neck, and floated lightly upward, the weight of twelve years seemingly as light as a feather. Mama scooped little Mimi out of the water, cupping her like a living heart. Watery eyes spread open, a rose. You're twelve years old today. Taking you swimming in the ocean is Mama's present to you, because you never enjoyed the love of a father…
Mama! Two wet faces pressed together; a childish heart grew suddenly solemn. A ferocious wave crashed over them. Mimi swallowed a mouthful of seawater, brackish and salty. Mama staggered back to the beach, cradling Mimi in her arms. She looked at the stunned expression on Mama's face and felt resentment, sadness. She never swam in the ocean again.
The first time Mimi saw him was on her second trip to the sea-shore. She was sitting alone on the beach, staring up at the moon, a sheet of red paper stuck onto the canopy of heaven above the sea. She was laden with sorrow. He walked up and sat down beside her. The beach was deserted, the sand unbearably cold and cheerless. He spoke to Mimi in a disbelieving voice. You look just like Her, the same sadness, the same purity. She loves the moon, the early morning sun, Beethoven, Spinoza…
A poet?
No, unemployed. Gets by by doing odd jobs. She published a story when She was eighteen; at twenty, She had a solo vocal recital, as a coloratura. But like ordinary women, She gleaned scraps of coal and carried manure buckets, all for the sake of Her son… His voice quickly faded out. Mimi's heart leaped into her mouth. The sea was unbelievably calm; all she could hear were the softly lapping waves and the violent beating of her heart.
Do you love Her?
I adore Her. My only goal in life is to make Her happy.
Mimi's heart crawled; her narrow chest began to swell. The broad expanse of the beach was nearly unbearable. She headed over to a shaded path that led to the shore. The thick branches of the towering kola-nut trees were intertwined, their thick shade forming a dark umbrella over Mimi's head. He followed quietly behind her, as still as a shadow.
Who is She?
My mother.
Thunder roared; the moon was gone. In the pitch-darkness, he grabbed Mimi's hand and drew up next to her, purring like a cat. Her suspended heart settled back down, dissolving into millions of pearls of tribute. The "motherhood" memorial arch screened out the last traces of jealousy. All the emotions in the world could be written with only the word affection or filiality; otherwise, it would be blasphemy. A bolt of lightning flashed between them; two twisted faces drew together. In the space of a minute, countless driven raindrops crashed into two bodies and two hearts consumed by flames at the base of an ancient tree. They saw nothing, they heard nothing. There was only the driven rain and the mud and an inextinguishable fireball. Tens of thousands of years ago, the heavens had opened up angrily, just like tonight, and a pair of lovers had died for love beneath the branches of this ancient tree. After tens of thousands of springs, tens of thousands of summers, two carnal-colored seeds had formed deep beneath the roots of this gnarled, ancient tree. Maybe the vows would be answered on this rainy night, and the two love seeds would finally germinate and sprout forth. As the rain fell, they exchanged their burning hearts, which sizzled with each raindrop. A chill wind brushed past, whipping up flames of joy. Thunder roared angrily; the gigantic canopy of the tree rose into the air, then crashed to the ground. Their souls flew out of their bodies. The fire was out, but gray smoke continued to curl upward. The wind died down, the rain stopped, a cluster of rice-colored stars was set free to cleanse the canopy of heaven. They stared silently at each other like a pair of clay statues, gazing into each other's expression, all genuine feelings now lost.
Come to my place, and change into some dry clothes.
No, Mother's waiting anxiously for me to come home.
They held hands tightly in the darkness, then let go. No words of comfort, no good-byes as they parted.
He knew it had been an extraordinary rainy night and that he'd given her an even more extraordinary love. Mimi knew it had been a soul-stirring rainy night and that she'd relinquished soul-stirring emotions to the rainy night. The rainy night had incurred a heavy debt. What they'd taken from the rainy night could never be easily abandoned. Love had turned their hearts into a scorched mass, but they remained fused together to avoid the pain of being ripped apart.
Mother wants to meet you.
Why?
She has to give Her permission for me to marry. I know She'll like you.
On Sunday, he climbed the Great Wall, Mimi holding his left hand, Mother holding his right. He used up a roll of color film beside the North Sea, his left arm around Mimi's shoulder, his right hand gripping Mother's arm. Mimi let him hold the parasol; She handed him her feather-light handbag. Mimi took off her jacket and put it over his shoulders; She put her half-eaten Popsicle up to his mouth. Mimi could see resentment in Her eyes; She could see superfluousness in Mimi's face. He tried to please Mimi by buying a Popsicle; he tried to please Her by buying a soft drink, all the time panting like a cat in heat.
At dusk, Mimi's first glance took in Her thick black hair, oppressive, impenetrable. Three pink moles at the corner of Her mouth were so close together they were almost one. From then on, unlucky omens began to appear in Mimi's dreams. Bright red, meaty growths appeared. Countless pink eyes hidden in Her thick black hair, shedding tears like blood… Mimi often woke from her dreams in terror; in the surrounding blackness, she refreshed her image of him by looking through photographs.
How about this one?
No, you can't see Ma's disposition in it. This one's no good, either. You can't see Mother's grace in it. Um-um, these are even worse…
This one's pretty good.
Her hair isn't dyed.
Gray hair's a sign of kindness.
No, She looks too old. Mimi, under no circumstances are you to let Mother see this photo!
Why?
If She sees Herself looking so old, She'll be upset. From now on, you're not to call Her an old lady to Her face. His words were strings of waterdrops that seeped into Mimi's heart like poison. Mimi's nerves felt raw; she was trembling. She walked out of the house and wandered aimlessly. She walked up to a shop where people were selling all kinds of diapers; countless wrinkled, chapped feet stepped over pudgy babies lying on the ground as they fought over the colorful diapers. Mimi reached out. Four huge cats' eyes bit down painfully. She pulled her hand back and realized that her face was still pressed up against the icy window. She stared at the orange moon as it scurried in and out of a jumbled mass of clouds. Another daydream! Mimi dragged her stiffened legs out the door. What was this, a blanket of stars in the sky above and on the ground below? Heaven and earth, everything was all jumbled up! Her face was soaked; water filled her eyes. She stepped in a puddle shattering it as an orange moon landed on her instep. She kicked it away and walked up to the room, stepping in one puddle after another. Mimi stood in the doorway, oblivious to the passage of time. His broad, heavy back blocked her view of the reclining chair. They couldn't see Mimi, but Mimi could see his limp, boneless hand massaging a mound of withered, yellowed wrinkles. Amid the wrinkles, countless stringy mammary glands converged to form two dark-purple nipples, like overripe squishy grapes.
The pain in my chest started when I was pregnant with you. Her voice seemed to float up from the depths of a dying well, then sank slowly back down. Mimi could see Her parted lips, Her half-closed eyes, the three pink moles quivering in a red tide.
Ma, it feels better when I massage You, doesn't it?
Much better. Your head was so big it was a very hard delivery. For two days and three nights, that wretched father of yours never showed his face at the delivery-room door. I was so angry I couldn't eat. My stomach ached from hunger…
Ma. Grief and indignation caused the big pale boneless hands to dig in too hard. The overripe purple grapes oozed two drops of pus-colored liquid. They hung there on the verge of falling off, quivering drops of muddy yellow, like a secret mixture of splendor and decay fighting off death. Mimi suddenly saw in the glass her own ghostly image.
Ai, you're all grown up. But I still remember what you were like as a child. You nursed at my breast every night and listened to me read "Snow White." You didn't blink. Remember? I spanked you once because you stole Leilei's hanky, and you curled up in my lap and cried half the night. Pretty soon, I started crying, too. Ai… words gradually gave way to soft moans.
Ma-the two mounds of withered yellow wrinkled skin were getting hot from the rubbing, turning red. His hands hesitated; they began to tremble. Terrified, he stared at the overripe, oozing purple grapes…
Mimi threw the towel over her shoulders, burst into the room, and stood there ramrod straight, beads of water streaming down her body.
You! The big pale boneless hands froze above Her chest. All rubbing motions stopped for a full two minutes.
Reluctantly, She opened her eyes. After a momentary fright, She calmed Herself down.
What's wrong with you? He quickly picked up the sheet to cover up Mimi's naked body. As though awakened from a dream, Mimi cast a flustered look at her own dripping body, knocked his hand away, and recoiled to the side.
I told you long ago she's got emotional problems. Look at her, the poor thing. You stay here; I'll take her to the hospital. A look of great compassion on Her face.
No. Mimi huddled next to him and gripped his hand tightly.
Mimi, go to the hospital with Mother, and let them see what's wrong, OK?
Mimi looked at him for a moment as though he were a stranger, before jerking her hand free and throwing off the sheet that covered her. She ran to her own room, stepping on the rays of starlight. The bed was swirling. She buried her head in the fluffy pillow, her eyes were tightly shut. He held Mimi in his arms. He could feel her trembling but couldn't hear the sobs stuck in her throat. His body was racked by a cold shudder that stabbed into his heart. Her long damp hair gave off steam that encircled the two faces. A sharp pain in his heart as he dug his fingernails into Mimi's flesh. Mimi shrank into his embrace; for a long, long time, her terrified eyes were glued to those fleshy big pale boneless hands. He peeled the wet strands of hair off her cheeks, touched her full lips. His muscles tensed as he nervously reached for her hand. Two limpid drops of water oozed out from under her tightly shut eyelids. Don't open your eyes, hold my hand. Let's find our way out of this dark-green grove together. Pointed leaves cradled strings of last night's dewdrops, emitting light-yellow rays. Don't reach out. Every dew-drop knocked to the ground is one more shattered heart. Pressed tightly together, they walked forward, hand in hand. Stillness reigned, broken only by the even sounds of their labored breathing. As he raised his head, his face was imprinted with golden splotches of light filtering through cracks in the dark-green canopy above. So was Mimi's snowy-white blouse. Creeping forward cautiously, their shoulders bent, they made their way through the dark-green grove, a pair of intertwining silk ribbons gliding back and forth like an empty emotion being poured into an empty heart.
Kiss me. In the translucent light of the sun, a pair of feet like those of a tiny animal rose up on their tiptoes. The pointed leaves rustled interminably, sending light-yellow dewdrops cascading to the ground, shattered. His back blocked out the sunlight; a wall of darkness suddenly spread out before Mimi's eyes, probably because the lamp at the head of the bed was smashed. In a flash, two naked bodies formed a scarlet forest. Mimi's mouth opened wide, fingernails dug into his back. No, don't stop… Don't stop. Mimi wanted to push him away, but she dug her fingers deeply into flesh that could have been his or could have been hers. Two vibrant lives formed a bright rainbow. Four eyes were tightly shut, blood-filled lips fused together, heaven and earth were about to explode, the ark was capsizing… Don't move! I hear something. Footsteps on broken glass, hobbling back and forth beyond the door. A swarm of ants gently raised up a berry; several little stars silently leaped onto the wet window ledge. Rain dripping from the eaves turned into fine drops, falling freely to the ground in threads. The berries were completely smashed, oozing crimson earth. Already rotten, they hid a hope in their hearts brighter than the eyes of birds; now that winter had passed, who could stop the multicolored seeds from sprouting green buds? The scarlet forest began to fade, gradually becoming a gloomy violet. Mimi's verdant heart suddenly withered and cracked; springtime fled without a trace.
Is she better? Her voice was soft and supple, like a rope twisted out of rubber.
Much better, Ma. He was desperate to convince Her that nothing had happened a moment ago.
Is she asleep?
She fell asleep long ago, Ma. Still desperate to convince Her, he turned on the light and opened the door. An icy hand descended on Mimi's forehead. Oh! She's feverish. Mimi raised her eyelids, which were nearly stuck shut. She saw a knifelike old face leaning over her, a glinting cold light like the dead grasses covering a winter pasture in whose roots were hidden the hope of rebirth for snakes and scorpions, ants and bugs. Mimi was like a spring that had been stretched too far, its tension completely lost. The channels in her heart slowed down, twisted; last night, so transparent, would decompose where it stuck. She tossed down a green stone. The echo from the bottom of her heart reverberated, was still reverberating. I'm not sick! I'm not. Mimi sensed that she was an emotional, kind-hearted sparrow silently keeping watch over a nonexistent snake track in the darkness of a vast forest. Deep autumn, when the birds fly south, and Mimi no longer had the strength to cross the single-file bridge of his heart.
Profound sorrow wrapped itself around her. All Mimi could do was cry.
Mimi, you're sick.
There are yardsticks all over the world, but not a speck of land for me anywhere. Take my measure with your yardstick, take your measure with mine.
What nonsense is that? Mimi. You really are sick.
She has no husband, I have no father. None of us has a father.
Mimi, snap out of it. I love you, Mother loves you, too… She loves…
She loves acting high and mighty the foreign superstition of not going outside on Friday the thirteenth eating sausage sandwiches even if they taste funny drinking coffee without sugar destroying nerves that are already too fragile…
Why do you insist on making this relationship impossible!
The relationship is cruel enough already. At first, I was confident in my youth and my good looks, confident that no one could replace the love of a wife. Heh-heh, I was wrong. You'll never have the courage to cut the umbilical cord, and, of course, that's what She's counting on. It's not enough just to be your wife…
Goddamn that Freud and his theories!
No, it's more than that. It's castration. Most Chinese men are swallowed up by maternal love. There's nothing left. I want nothing. I'm leaving.
What nonsense is that? You're sick. Where do you think you're going?
… Mimi walked into the gray misty dusk empty-handed.
You can't leave. He reached out but grabbed only the empty dusk air, like an infant who's lost the nipple and stares into a great void.
Let her go and walk it off. She's just tired. She walked over abruptly and stood in his way, Her face suffused with the innocence of an eighteen-year-old girl.
Ma-she's still got a fever. She's talking nonsense. Now that he'd found an excuse, he was as excited as a drowning man reaching out to grasp a straw, someone who'd found the hope to go on living.
Take it easy. Nothing will happen. Her voice was thinner than paper.
Ma. He felt like crying, but he didn't, though his eyes were burning.
An ancient ugly dying forest way off in the corner of the dark-green sky. Decrepit forked branches, so rusted they looked as if they'd never borne flowers or brought forth tender new buds-ancient trees forced to bear the stigma of not having seen the color of green in thousands of years. Flocks of birds perching densely on the shaky forked branches were exchanging curses that birds have known since antiquity. Pair after pair of bulging eyes looked down on Mimi's life and her lives to come. Mimi was frightened out of her wits. She wouldn't choose this decaying den of spies as the place to end her life. She emerged from the forest and lay down on a desolate slope covered with years of loneliness. The grass around her was restless; the desolate slope lifted her up until she was floating in the air. Snakes and scorpions, bugs and ants lazily raised their heads, eyes heavy with sleep. Mimi was so tired she couldn't keep her eyes open. An icy softness kept brushing past her hands. There was a tautness in her belly, a weightiness, painful cramps. She undid her underwear and held her bulging belly with both hands, letting the first flakes of snow moisten the tiny new life. A momentary throbbing reminded her that the child would be born under the sign of the serpent. Why is there so much movement during a period of hibernation? A smile spread across Mimi's face as tranquillity settled upon her once again.
It's snowing hard now, and Mimi still isn't home. I'll find her and bring her back to talk some sense into her. His reproach was filled with anxiety.
I won't allow you to talk sense into her. Let her calm down first. Who knows, maybe she went to her mother's home. Mother held his arm. Her withered, yellowing body blocked the huge cedar doors.
Ma, let me bring her back and give her a good talking to. He tried to wrench his arm free from Her grip, but She held on for dear life.
I won't allow you to frighten her! She shouted anxiously.
Ma. He pushed Her hand away and burst through the door.
Stop right there! She ran out after him, stumbled, nearly fell. He had no choice but to rush back and steady Her. Her mouth was open wide; She was gasping. She couldn't speak.
Ma-
I won't allow you to be rough with Mimi. It's cold out there. I'll go with you to find her. Suddenly calm again, She looked at him tenderly. He lowered his head to avoid Her eyes. His voice was so low he seemed to be talking to himself. She's still got a fever.
Mimi raised her leg-it was stiff from the cold. She didn't have the heart to stamp a footprint onto the translucent surface, though maybe that was the way for her to experience the pleasure of destroying purity. White sky. White snow. White night. Tender snowflakes translucent in the boundless translucence. Not a breath of wind. The flakes seemed to be floating in their prescribed spots a scene of chaos, nihilism. This was Mimi's cherished hope-heaven and earth a single color. As she stood in the snow, she could no longer see herself. Fossilized bones glistened so brightly they dazzled her eyes; her terrified, trembling heart had petrified, had been transformed into a heart-shaped green agate tossed onto the boundless snow all by itself. Don't open the door, people; give the world a chance to hold on to this pale, powerless purity! Hide under the snowbound roof to cry alone over your own death. Look, the sky is responding to human misery by sending down its symbol of filial piety-snow that covers the ground. In the snow-covered wilderness, only the emerald-green agate awaits rebirth-maybe the tragedy of these two legs will be replayed somewhere else in the universe. Mimi was overcome by sorrow, but she was at peace. Inadvertently, she discovered a long piece of light-purple silk rolling back and forth across the earth's crust with a soft tearing sound, leaving behind an eternal silence. Mimi had no sense of her own being, not even as a tiny snowflake. As she slumped slowly to the snow-covered ground, she saw the bright, snowy red of the ancient grove with its rusted trees. Flowers in full bloom were like huge tongues stretching up into the vault of heaven, sucking dry all the blood vessels, turning the anemic heaven and earth paler than ever. The delicate and beautiful ancient forest trembled in the dazzling snow, sending skyward a cloud of red mist…
He picked Mimi up, his face as dark as the earth. He gazed in stupefaction at Mother's silvery new teeth. A confused look on his face, the twin expressions of laughter and crying.
Translated by Howard Goldblatt