The wheels! The wheels!
Bright spokes turning to light beams
And bike bells jingling over bumps
As the sun comes red
Out of the soot cloud.
What a day!
Out of bed in the dark
And mooncakes for breakfast!
After, the park
Where I rode in the spray
Of a broken hose
And my handlebars sparkled with waterdrops.
I've ridden the Second Ring Road
Ten thousand mornings,
These, the finest.
And even if I died before winter
I would count myself lucky.
Everything's golden outside.
Sing to me, city,
Windows and walls, cinders, canals, and dust,
A little while longer.
I'm gray
But, pushing the pedals, my shoes
Pump out a good fortune.
It's mine.
I'll go on living forever.