I said the wheat is waiting for fall,
You burst out laughing,
I must have never seen wheat before.
It’s already ripe by summer.
That’s right,
You surely have winter wheat growing near you.
People sow it in fall,
And harvest in summer.
You saw it with your own eyes,
How could you be mistaken?
You laugh at me because you’ve seen winter wheat.
But I’ve looked at the spring wheat north of the Great Wall.
I remember when you were young,
With bright eyes
And a piercing gaze,
Seeing straight from a snail’s eyestalks
To the ends of the galaxy.
想起你少时样子
眼睛亮亮的
眼神也有力
从蜗牛触角
直直探望到银河尽头
You were full of wonder,
Loving the worlds beyond this one.
Who knew you’d end up like this,
So worldly-wise,
Yet failing to wonder for a moment
If there might be another kind of wheat.
不像现在这样
长了见识
却丝毫不怀疑
世界可能还有另种麦子
Another Kind of Wheat | Poetry is a story from our issue, “Promised Land.” To read the entire issue, become a subscriber and receive the full magazine. Alternatively, you can purchase the digital version from the App Store.