Finally we met

First on the phone –

Then as fast as before dusk falls

A red taxi parked next to us

Left no trace of misery,

But a thorn was left in our tongue…

Your blessing belongs in a foreign language

Your two daughters as white as snow

And they have no worries

They flew with English language for a while

With their semi-transparent wings.

They have fallen down

Into the Uyghur language –

That language that God blessed

There is a sky underneath, and its top covered tight

Its meaning forever and the letters can reach.