I want to waste time with you, say, looking down at fish
Or leaving our teacups on the table and walking away
Wasting their lovely shadows
I want to waste the sunset too, say, taking a walk
Letting time slip by until stars fill the sky
I want to waste the hours when the wind rises
Sitting in the hallway, doing nothing, until the dark clouds in your eyes
Have all blown out the window
I have already wasted the world; it passes through me
Weary, as though it has never been loved
But tomorrow I want to do this again, to waste
All the flowers and plants in sight; life should be as beautiful as they are
As meaningless, like films we have wasted
Those desperate loves and journeys toward death
Bring us a brief silence
I want us to waste each other
To waste brief silences and long stretches of meaninglessness together
To wear away this delicate, aging universe together
Say, leaning on a railing, looking down at the mirror of the water
Until all the things we have wasted
Grow thin wings behind us
I first came across this poem thanks to a friend. Let’s call her Xiaolin for now. One day, we went out for hot pot. Afterward, we were walking along with our stomachs stuffed when I suddenly said I wanted to buy a gift box. Xiaolin offered to take me to a stationery shop. That was how I learned about Mutou Stationery, a shop with a very literary, artistic feel. Seeing “Mutou,” or “Wood,” immediately reminded me of the story of Mutou and Mawei in Uncle Bing’s book, just as seeing “Mawei Hostel” reminded me of the same story. Only later did I learn that whether it was a stationery shop or a youth hostel, the names “Mutou” and “Mawei” came from Haizi’s poem “September,” from the line: “I return the distance of this faraway place to the grassland, one called Wood, one called Horsetail.” Zhou Yunpeng also set the poem to music and sang it.
“I want to waste time with you.” What lovely words. The “you” is someone who means something special to me. Precisely because it’s that “you,” even wasting time together brings me joy.
There are many such “yous.” I just don’t know how many I’ll meet: kindred spirits, and good friends.
I want to waste time with you.
Blue sky, white clouds, the sea.
And the sound of waves breaking against submerged rocks.