THE NIGHT WATCHES THE FLOCK FOR ME by Kou Junjian

THE NIGHT WATCHES THE FLOCK FOR ME

by Kou Junjian

The night watches the flock for me.

He watches it anonymously, faithfully like a sheep dog,

quietly watches it from above the vast sky,

from deep in the mountains, under the rugged twilight.

Dark night keeps the flock, but memories are mine to guard.

My morin khuur breaks free from the wind’s tug, dashing off

towards the end of time.

Hills, in an endless range, stretch over stillness.

Day and Night watch over the streams and over us,

and over the life-sustaining snow.

To the night, darkness is the nature of the sky;

moonlight, butter lamps, inner lines are all illusionary,

the grassland’s offerings to the flock.

The flock, it is kept safe by the night,

done without my consent.

In a similar fashion, the morning dew becomes a river

to tell stories to the lonely and magnificent meadow.

Every oxbow lake stays quiet, each offers a path

to the dark night.

The night watches over the flock for me,

in return I don the sky its turquoise blue.

The numerous stars enable me to talk to the untouchable sky.

They enter my eyes,

allowing me a peek into the secrets of the universe.