Perhaps the last moment is here
I haven’t left a will
Only a pen. . .to my mother
I’m not a hero
In an era without heroes
I just wanted to be a man

The quiet horizon
Separated the ranks of the living from the dead
I had to choose the sky
And would never kneel on the ground
To let executioners look gigantic
So they could block the wind of freedom

Out of starlike bullet holes
A bloody dawn is flowing

from the book The Red Azalea
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin

for martyrs everywhere