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| Liang Zhiwei |
A famous antique collector and poet in Shanghai. Editor of the supplement of Shanghai Labor News. Member of the World Chinese Poets Association
Humanity Grows Cold in the Wind's Howl
Spring flaunts its wild, dazzling passion across the fields,
Summer’s blazing hues vanish beyond the skyline,
Autumn arrives in gilded splendor,
leading a tribe of carefree immortals—
only to fade into winter’s bleak, snow-lit silence.
The Earth was never truly ours,
its soil long stained crimson with cold-blooded fury.
Thick snow blankets nature’s desolation, its indifference,
while melting patches expose the brutal history of beasts—
their savagery, their slaughter.
Only the wind understands humanity,
watching generations thrive and wither
amidst the drizzle’s murmur,
leaving behind untold secrets.
In the depth of blackened stillness,
a sound erupts—
a wolf-king’s simulated shriek, so piercing
it tears the night sky asunder,
scattering frozen stars upon the ground.
Who doesn’t yearn for the Earth to reclaim
its primordial grace?
June 12, 2025, Liang Garden, Shanghai
Humanity Grows Cold in the Wind's Howl
By Liang Zhiwei
Spring flaunts its wild, dazzling passion across the fields,
Summer’s blazing hues vanish beyond the skyline,
Autumn arrives in gilded splendor,
leading a tribe of carefree immortals—
only to fade into winter’s bleak, snow-lit silence.
The Earth was never truly ours,
its soil long stained crimson with cold-blooded fury.
Thick snow blankets nature’s desolation, its indifference,
while melting patches expose the brutal history of beasts—
their savagery, their slaughter.
Only the wind understands humanity,
watching generations thrive and wither
amidst the drizzle’s murmur,
leaving behind untold secrets.
In the depth of blackened stillness,
a sound erupts—
a wolf-king’s simulated shriek, so piercing
it tears the night sky asunder,
scattering frozen stars upon the ground.
Who doesn’t yearn for the Earth to reclaim
its primordial grace?
June 12, 2025, Liang Garden, Shanghai
