Perhaps these thoughts of ours 
will never find an audience 
Perhaps the mistaken road 
will end in a mistake 
Perhaps the lamps we light one at a time 
will be blown out, one at a time 
Perhaps the candles of our lives will gutter out 
without lighting a fire to warm us. 
Perhaps when all the tears have been shed 
the earth will be more fertile 
Perhaps when we sing praises to the sun 
the sun will praise us in return 
Perhaps these heavy burdens 
will strengthen our philosophy 
Perhaps when we weep for those in misery 
we must be silent about miseries of our own 
Perhaps 
Because of our irresistible sense of mission 
We have no choice 
- Shu Ting (translated by Carolyn Kizer)
What the Shed Looks At
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