I love the way Yu Dafu piles up his words. Reading his “Sinking” (沉沦) before, I was struck by the melancholy that rippled through his prose. In truth, everyone’s life, piled up out of trivial “plot,” can’t help but eventually reveal an unbearable melancholy and helplessness. Suddenly, I’m reminded of the very first line of “Sinking”: lately he’s felt pitifully cold and alone. This song, Lonely Boy, stirred something in me, so I’ve rendered a free translation of it here.

Alone, this man, his soul adrift, his form withered. Mired in gloom, dwelling apart, he wanders at will, lost in himself. Food and clothing he lacks not, yet in his distraction he gazes toward the void, forever longing for spring, to dissolve his sorrow and sighs.