The night of the typhoon, the sky was full, the world destroyed.
From west to east, herds of black cattle rolled on their heads
the wind’s hoofs beat at the windows
everything on the ground rose to the sky.
The people were packed into the night
the night was packed into an exploding drum.
The wildly arrogant air
presented rolling tanks from another world.
There was no sign of resistance
that’s just the way the extraordinary happens.
– Wang Xiaoni. Typhoon, No. 1
translated by Eleanor Goodman