A Chinese worker-poet writes on displacement

Waiting for Relocation by Wang Xuezhong

The wind of pulling down the houses is blowing hard

In directions all

Raising a cloud of dust

The life ever peaceful

Into worries does fall

 

Rumors prevail

The truth no one knows

Whatever it is

Our old home

At any moment

Will be sold to a boss with a big nose

 

Some say the boss is named Square

Some say he is named Round

Whether Boss Square or Boss Round

They both take oath

That the poverty should be removed

And a rich China should be found

 

Some say Boss Square will have a plaza of food built

Some say Boss Round will have a palace built

Some say Boss Square will have a hunting place built

Some say Boss Round will have an amusement park built

And some say the hunting place is actually a gambling house

And the amusement park is a whorehouse

 

Alas! Rumors prevail

The truth no one knows

In our five thousand years of history

There have been countless men and women

Waiting to be put on the bank

Like fish in the net then….

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