Rabbit
It’s always scared, always ready to run
I often watch it, trying to see if it was a slave in a past life
What darkness has it soaked in?
When it came to this world
Was every hand that fed it grass its master?
Apparently, it speaks a language
By grinding its molars
What’s the philosophy of softer sounds
Its teeth make when it’s happy?
Once I saw a rabbit leap high into the air
No one else around
The vet said that’s its happiest ritual
Congratulations, it sees you as a rabbit
My zodiac sign really is the rabbit
As a child, I ground my teeth in my sleep
According to the rabbit dictionary
That’s how you say pain
When I sleep now, I never grind
Has poetry drawn my pain into its heart?
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Translated by Margaret Ross
Margaret Ross is the author of A Timeshare (Omnidawn, 2015) and Saturday (The Song Cave, 2024). Her poems and translations have appeared in Granta, Harper’s, POETRY, and The Paris Review.
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Author photograph courtesy of 黄梵 Huang Fan
