All You Have Is A Country
By Ha Jin
You are so poor that all you have is a country.
Whenever you open your mouth
you talk about the country
to which you can no longer return.
China is a giant shield that you use
to conceal your cowardice and to preempt
the onslaught of duties and hardships.
You dare not take these as your rights:
the warm sunlight, clean water, fresh air,
a happy mood for an ordinary day.
As long as you live, you want to grieve
for the fairy tale of patriotism.
You dare not take a country as a watchdog—
a good dog wags its tail to please its master,
becomes fierce in deterring burglars;
a bad dog ignores invaders
and only bites and barks at its master.
You dare not clasp the dog’s ear,
telling it, “You won’t have food
if you continue to misbehave like this.”
Actually, you are merely a grain of rice
that fell through China’s teeth,
but you treat it as your god,
your universe, and the source
of your suffering and happiness.
