Self-Willed Spring Flowers

In the dusk, in the vastness
Still in full blossom are the spring flowers.
Aroma that allures
Silhouette that evades the eye
Remind me of the day
They flaunt and squander.
Admirers press close
With flash light from the mobile phones
Momentarily,
They seem to have a glimpse of their own psyche.
When I try to pin them down
With proper rhyme and meter
Before I know, they’re gone.

“Guess Who This Is?”

“Guess who this is?”
I cannot tell if there is a happiness
Now, comes to wrap this forgetful me
I only have a feeling, rather clumsily
That you are shrinking in the mist
Smaller by the minute, making your way into me

“Guess who this is?”
It’s not my first time hearing this
Like playing hide-and-seek from childhood
A game where I was the loser, every time
I can spot you from a crowd
But lose your voice in its chorus

“Guess who this is?”
I haven’t revealed to you any riddles
Nor have you suspend my journey of life
I know my girl isn’t easily irritated
Even when I rumpled her elaborate hairdo
She’ll just redo it with a smile

“Guess who this is?”
Uttered in your unique way, it sheds a sudden light
Upon the other me in the dark slumber
As drugs deserted by the wall, after expiration date
This I know in the very beginning
You and I, we share a secret something

Sun at Chaiwan Village—to Haizi

Were you the peasant man from Chawan?
Sat on roof in winter, let the blues on you
Took with you the dragon and tiger from legend, along the river
Put on the white shoes Qu Yuan left on the bank
From the South to the North, with 25 years of solitude
You gave the wheat its golden brilliance

Were you the drum-sounder in the night?
Wielded Chinese characters as hammers
Found percussion in life’s vigor and Tibetan pranayama
Sounding the drum the entire life, on the back of the white ape
Moon sprang from the copper drum of Asia
Transformed to a wheel of sun

Were you the rejected lover at Changpin?
Bodhisattva on your neck got you through fire
To your unawareness, four sisters
Four swallows of flesh, flew at you
Flew at the obtuse nag of you
Then vanished in the monsoon

Were you the cheetah in the East?
Once, held on to your pen like a lance
Muttering the seven incantations, day and night
Delved for the sun the dark depth
Harrowed and haggard, you saw stars, you heard hums,
Dreamt of a bullheaded cattle thief on a rainy night

Were you the hollow peach flower?
Withering untimely, on the bough since 26 March, 1989
Music sheet of Messiah, and two colored figurines of Tibetan Buddha
These you buried in the pine woods behind the old house of hometown
Thus, you could sing of the cloud
While joining the long-loved saints in paradise

Were you the horseman who rode across grassland?
Spring’s green permeated the Equinox and Pacific Ocean
The decade of Haizi chopped firewood, fed horses, wrote letters
Trotted the globe, within the Spring breeze and blossoming flowers
Rose at sunset, and rested at sunrise
Blossoms their beautiful wives, fruits their lasting lines

Dream Land

My body is a courtyard
Patio, vestibule, and backyard
Complete and orderly
But each day finds it in greater dilapidation

My mind is a shrine
Filled with offerings of wine and flower
Indeed, it’s not so brilliant as the sun
But has a touch gentile as starlight

——————

Yang Siping, born in 1968, Susongren, Anhui, Doctor of Literature, Honorary Doctor of Literature, Professor of Shanghai International Studies University, PhD Supervisor of Anhui Normal University, Advisor of China Culture Promotion Association, won the "Gold Award for Outstanding Contribution of Contemporary Chinese Poets", published "Intercultural Dialogue 13 titles including "Imagination", won the Chinese Literature Review Award of the Chinese Federation of Literature and Art twice, editor-in-chief of "University Chinese" 4 kinds, planning Anhui TV eight episode variety show "Poetry • China".

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