‘Waiting' or《等》, the 3rd poem I wrote today, withholding my other 2 from release, again, no sharing please

By Ouyang Yu
《等》

还等什么呢，你
哪儿都去不了了
哪儿都去不成了
等死死也不是那么快就等得到的
等人无人可等
等活没活做的
等最后一片叶子落下也不是一下子就能等下来的
等那个小得比一个逗号还要小一半的虫子钻进书脊里不出来了
等四月的秋虫声在每一个黄昏响起遍布整个街区直到呼啸的秋风又把一切肃杀

再等下去就是冬天了
等把这首诗写完，一百年已过去

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