And the wind
in the woods,
No burgeoning red
of a late autumn.
but green like the fern,
A white egret
on a low-hanging sky.
In the embracing waves
of the sea,
Blue El Nido,
A hundred boats adrift,
A hundred swarthy faces,
A hundred commercial boards
on a street speaking little English.
A hundred coconut trees,
A hundred shapes of seashells,
A hundred still blooming flowers
on the sand soft as milk.
I’m one of many
walking into a tropical
no time and space
when a boy comes running,
in a land of many colors;
*published on Anak Sastra, where you can read the full poem about El Nido
The weight of winter, hard on every cloud
dropping low on this city, and soon
and falling white
from a vulnerable sky,
the first shade of darkness
prolonging the night.
A soft wavering voice
Against the wind —
published at Thirty West Publishing House
Three brooks merge into the distant bay, and off it
some buildings come into view;
The moon half in her veil spills down her silvery light,
half the bay is lit, and half the world too.
In Autumn’s deep grove, a song is heard,
a song in its local Wu dialect ,
and my heart that longs for a home , though suddenly,
remembers that it’s almost time for another full moon.
Note: written on the mid-autumn festival 2018 ( 24th September, a typical day for family reunion when the mid-year moon in full ) in Chinese, in the style of ancient Chinese poems in rhymes, which is difficult to translate into English, well I’ve tried my best where the rhymes are missing, I supplement with clear-cut imagery.