Sonnet 124
Laijon Liu 20160618
O Love, aren’t we all children of the states?
We pay tax, go on tour, make ends meet
As subject to Fortune’s favor or hate
Sweat and dirt on our faces, it’s not game
And all of our consequences are designed
Often a voice comforts us in our heads
Say: “My child, God has a plan for you
You are special to Him, so bear the yoke.”
We never doubt this mindsaying a heresy
As long as we firmly carry out our tasks
Keep the system running, guard our policy
The blocks stack and the number grows
For this we all become fools
Die for goodness, labor for their crimes
