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.