Poems

PERUSING VERLAINE: A POEM WRITTEN IN LOU LIM IOK GARDEN, MACAO, ONE AUTUMN AFTERNOON

This book by Paul Verlaine throbs:

my hands feel it.

Then in a sudden a dry leaf

falls nearby: its sound

creates ripples in the air.

The sparrows, preening their feathers

for the next flight, stop to look on.

Birds and I are overwhelmed

by such primeval whisper.

 

 

REFLECTION

The moon

is a slow turtle

in the pond.

 

But the Koi

cannot catch it.

 

 

MORNING ON TAIPA ISLAND, MACAO

A new casino is being built

and every time the piling machine pumps

the crows feeding by the roadside

frantically fly: an abrupt explosion,

a sudden rush of excitement and fear.

They are coal-black smoke

spiraling in the autumn sky.

 

 

ALONE IN ZHUHAI, GUANGDONG

The oceans between us are vast

vaster than we comprehend them.

 

Time is fleeting in the wind and water:

how long have we not met?

 

Only in dreams I can see you

because in dreams time stands still.

 

How many flowers have I already sent you?

Tonight in your slumber count them for me.

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