Painting: Red Roofs, Le toits rouges, by Marc Chagall, 1953 – 1954;
French Surrealism, oil on canvas, Private Collection, Dimensions: 229.7 x 112.9 cm
https://musees-nationaux-alpesmaritimes.fr/chagall/en/biography-marc-chagall
Songs of the Mountain Village 山村歌声
A bonfire blazes in the courtyard; inside the paint bucket,
grey-white wood from the crumbling fence
burns until it turns pitch-black.
The wind stirred by sorghum liquor surging in veins
can never fend off the night’s chill after all.
Night falls too fast, like an iron pot clapped over the sky—
in its curve, no one is innocent.
The river’s murmur drifts near and far,
carrying the mountain’s black silhouette toward the plain.
When the air current settles with dark red dregs of wine in the valley,
no matter which house you live in,
it feels like the last house in the mountain village.
And the verses you write can only be
the metallic-tasting rain among the feathers of hens that went to roost early.
Everything has fallen asleep, holding love yet seeming to bear hatred.
Only the song, like a glinting red embroidered shoe,
fades away on the gravel road, toward the ever-elevating darkness.
Spent the night at Mao’er Mountain on the evening of August 27, 2025
Response Poetry by Ma Yongbo 马永波
Response Poetry Translated by Ma Yongbo 马永波
Photograph: Dusk at Cap Mountain village
山村歌声 Songs of the Mountain Village
院子里燃起了篝火，油漆桶里
来自倾颓栅栏灰白的木头
将燃烧进行到漆黑为止
高粱小烧在血管里鼓荡起的风
终究抵不过入夜的寒凉
夜晚来的太快，一口黑锅扣在头上
它的弧度里，没有人是无辜的
河水的声音忽近忽远
将山的黑色剪影向平原运送
当气流在山谷里沉淀暗红的酒渣
无论你住在哪个屋子里
它都像是山村里最后一座房屋
而你写下的诗句，都只能是
早早睡下的母鸡羽毛里金属味的雨
一切都睡了，带着爱，却像是恨
只有歌声，一只闪烁的红色绣花鞋
在砂石路上走远，向着越来越高的黑暗
2025年8月27日夜宿帽儿山
Photograph: Ma Yongbo 马永波 at Cap Mountain, 29th August 2025
“It is cold in the mountain village…it is already autumn…I recited bilingual Yeats for some strangers who lived in the same yard, and they sang”
Ma Yongbo马永波 to Helen Pletts海伦·普莱茨 , WhatsApp, night of 28th August 2025
YouTube Footage here of Cap Mountain yellow flags bridge
https://youtube.com/shorts/hN3KRXmOs_c?feature=share
love’s bonfire on Mao’er Mountain 帽儿山上的爱情篝火
“In the dark and boundless night, there was only that pitiful bonfire, like helpless love”
WhatsApp, Yongbo, 28th August 2025
long-silvered-wood prolonging the embers but deepest black has
governance here, like a sudden wave of night silence.
A red fire is speaking of love, raging like a red voice
wavering in walls of steel. And she will be heard,
love railing against confinement, even the metal will gather her
passion and direct it higher, until the wood is darkest, the hot tin
shrinking; love halting in the air wearing her red shoes
28th August 2025
Helen Pletts
Response Poetry By Helen Pletts 海伦·普莱茨
Response Poetry Translated by Ma Yongbo 马永波
帽儿山上的爱情篝火 love’s bonfire on Mao’er Mountain
“在漆黑无边的夜里，只有那可怜的篝火，像无助的爱”——永波WhatsApp信息，2025年8月28日
长长的银色木头延续着余烬，
而最深沉的黑暗在此主宰，
如夜的寂静波浪突然袭来。
一团红火诉说着爱情，像红色的呐喊，
在钢铁之墙间摇曳。她终将被听见，
爱情反抗着禁锢，即便金属也会汇聚她的
激情，引向更高处，直到木柴黑透，滚烫的锡罐
收缩；爱情穿着红鞋，在空气中驻足
2025年8月28日
Photograph: Helen Pletts 海伦·普莱茨, June 2025
Specific photographic images/graphic art under individual copyright © to either Ma Yongbo 马永波 or Helen Pletts 海伦·普莱茨
.