I Must Praise Your Body

I must praise your body; 

It’s like the earth’s dark soil

spoiled by the tropical sun, redolent of harvest,

I bury my eager hands into your fertility,

and bring out the rich greenery.


I drink from your lips the nectar of life; spring

is in your saffron-colored perianth.

My body is burning,

from my loins to my eyes,

the battlefield of virtue and sin.


I’m a proud man, broken by you.

The vengeance of love bends me;

The pain of love crushes me;

And forgetfulness saves me.

Interludes On A Rainy Day

the rain comes at 11 in the morning,

before that, the heavy summer sun fell into the cloud
with the sound of thunder.


the street becomes all of a sudden eccentric ,

too many unfriendly faces ,umbrellas and too much rain

The new graffiti on the corner of the wall

stretches its long fingers upward, upward…

there the last patch of a broken sun.


looking at the streets below this high rise is like looking out from a dream,

the sudden vertigo, the sudden loosing hold of things supporting you

and the imminent leap that cracks open the world…

but a roar of mingled notes keeps rising

and shakes me awake ,

No, there’s no up soaring in this world.


I push open the wooden door leading to a spiraling staircase,

I saw him once here, in the dim morning light

one winter ago,

how strange the memory of him comes rushing

to me now, like the diminishing echoes of the steps,

only a sad reminder that he was hereand I was too late.

31th July, Shanghai

the laundry flutters like white butterflies over some old people

gathering in the shades, talking in a language I don’t understand.

it’s been too hot an afternoon,

even a dragonfly has stopped its coquettish dance

and perched, languidly, on a deserted cabbage leaf.

On the last day of this month, though in lunar calendar ,

it’s almost the hottest day of the year –

how funny time seeps through our life in different ways,

some invisible, some like now in the eyes of a half-awake cat ,

crystallizing into an abyss and monitoring quietly

all the maddening crowds that set the earth in motion.

it’s just another day for you and I.

another day though not different at all we are nudged

by some invisible force forward , sideward, backward ,

cordoned off in a showcase window we call “that is life after all”,

leaving no room for reflections about “is it even so ”.

the bus station is queued with people I don’t know,

and yet the bus has not come,

chills sprawl upon my spine , the gust ,O, the gust .

I hold your hand , for I’ve long lost my way.

you look almost too happy in the sun.

It’s just another day for you and I.

how strange the silence balls up between us and keeps us apart,

though we are so close in this busy park.

The trees tremble slightly in the breeze,

announcing the coming of the rain – the long awaited rain.

Soon the crowd of men will disperse like startled pigeons

into their rancid rooms.

The rain might be too heavy for such a city

or you and me.

I don’t know what lies ahead in this avenue,

but I know there is too much history catching up upon me,

It’s either  destruction

or oblivion ,

nobody knew me two thousand years ago

and certainly I won’t be remembered two thousand years from now.

only the sweat drenched earth beneath my feet knows

the weight of my searching steps.

I’m no one; and I’m everyone.