The Dough Of Memory Poem by Cui Gya

Flowing reality
Always push me to speed up all kinds of steps
Like Chaplin in a suit
Rolling out the dough of time mechanically
Until 2020
I can't roll itIt's really soft
But it's like a lost Dali
Who is fixed in the dimension of time
I didn't see any olive tree
But I hear the sudden end of countless lives
And the stagnation beyond geography
Memory
It would rather go through a unique tunnel
Waiting for an old boarding pass
Those years
Time was soft
Chicken-rice and beef- noodles of airplane meal
Inserted my memory through the nasal cavity
That flying lady
During the days of isolation at home
Keep cooking at the same timeFlowing reality
Always pushes me to speed up my pace
Like Chaplin in a work suit
Rolling out the dough of time mechanically
Until 2020,
I can't roll it anymore.
It is obviously soft,
But it is like Dali who has lost his memory.
Frozen in the dimension of time
I didn't see an olive tree
But heard countless lives come to an abrupt end
And stagnation beyond geography
Memory
It would rather pass through a unique tunnel
To wait for an old boarding pass
Those years
Time was soft
Chicken rice and beef noodles from airplane meals
Penetrate the memory of the brain through the nose
That flying youth
During the days of confinement,
Who always cook at the same time.