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LADDER

Yan Song

Copyright © 2020 by Yan Song.

ISBN:

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978-1-7960-7697-4 978-1-7960-7696-7 978-1-7960-7695-0

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Rev. date: 12/06/2019

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Contents

Preface

Part I

Ladder*

To A Friend

If

Music

Teenhood

Autumn Night In New York City

Fallen Leaf*

Return Hometown*

To Old School Friends

New Year Of 2010

Excuse*

Forever Autumn*

Country Lane*

Part II

Song Of The Spring

Song Of The Autumn

Song Of Snow

Ode Of Spring

Light In Winter

An Episode

Mourning For Grandmother

The Fourth Anniversary In Jinan*

Qu Yuan* In Dragon Boat Festival**

Drunkard

Visit Ling Yan Buddhist Temple*

In Sixteenth Birthday

Rambling Under The Moon

Autumn Sentiment

To A Playmate

A Mountain

Street Encounter

Suite Of Poems On Nature

Visit Mount Tai

Black Dragon Waterfall*

To Brother*

Spring Festival Of 1977

Farewell*

Da Ming Lake*

Lone Plum Blossom*

Ascent On Mount Tai

To Mount Tai

Reunion*

Memory Grandmother At Tomb Sweeping Festival

Worry*

Life*

To Myself

Firework

In Twenty-Fourth Birthday

PREFACE

This collection is composed of two parts: Part I contains the poems I composed in the last decade; Part II contains the poems in my early decades (up to twentyfour years old). There is a wide gap between the two parts in time that I have no poems because I threw myself into my science career. It’s a judicious choice to be a scientist, not a poet, under the situation of China at that time, and this entanglement is reflected in some poems in Part II. Like a personal diary, the historical background of country and family experiences are reflected in the collection. These poems are not strictly chronologically ordered in each part, especially in Part II, but roughly follow a certain sequence if I the time correctly. Because of time, some of the poems in Part II are edited before publishing, either for privacy reason or for the expression reason, but most of them kept their original form. Besides poems, I also wrote many raw fictions and plays but never published them; many of the poems were taken from these sources. Most of my poems were originally written in Chinese with standard form and rhyme scheme. I am trying to give my best translation but unable to keep them rhymed. I also provide a short explanation for certain names of people, place, or setting, in hope that the readers will not be lost in their reading. I am a traditional poem writer and express my feelings and convey my attitude of mind in a straightforward way. It will be easily for reader to catch the meanings of these poems. Writing and reading poems is a luxurious pleasure to me, I hope readers will also enjoy reading this collection. Sincerely,

Yan Song Pleasantville, New York

November 26, 2019

PART I

LADDER*

Years are ladder to death; death is the portal of eternality.

Where had you lost your sigh? Who cared about your once sadness?

Life is a period of existence involuntarily; Death is the moment awakening out of this being.

Laughing, howling; sobbing, shrieking. Dashing head, newborn climbed the ladder excitingly. Frustrated were seniors who were forced out of the ladder helplessly.

Under the ladder, there is a round orifice,

through which many figures poured into the hollow from the ladders and disappeared without a trace. Look deeply into the orifice, we can see immense hollow indistinctly. Gloomy and quiet, there seems sparse stars twinkling in the far distance. Here is the destination of everything, an identity of existence and nonexistence. Past or future, consciousness or substance, who can distinguish?

In a trance, we met each other again. Peace and ease, just like we’re at home before. “So far, so good,” you said calmly. “Not as bad as I expected,” even wore a smile. I’m shrieking

but clogged in throat. Am I living in that illusion? Or awaking in this dream?

It’s noisy all the time on the ladder. Some people dashed around madly, their neighbors were jostled out the ladder one after another. Some other people gripped the ladder, hanging in the air, floundering around.

Power and wealth, honor and infamy, are footprints left on ladder, at the mercy of tramples till disappeared without a trace. Greatness and tininess have any difference in the scale of eternality?

The great men

actually are dim about the reason of their greatness. Why will I pay homage? I should envy their good fortune instead. The nobodies, of course, don’t know why they had such fate. Better have sympathy and comion than scorn or blame. We’re ridding in a roller coaster car; its track that determines the ups and downs, not riders.

Hustled up in the crowded ladder, I couldn’t retrieve my lost memories. Who brought me here? Who else must take me away? Listen to the singing bird outside the window. Watch the sunset on the horizon. Are there anybody who was not born and met their demise on the ladder?

Who knows the boundless hollow of eternality is not more congenial? However, who could see through the secrets inside the hollow right now?

With certain probability, we come to this world. Following some statistic laws, we have experienced the joys and sorrows of life. Maybe we’re trivial, Maybe we’re greedy. Only wish dragging out an ignoble existence in a corner of the world, counting the sun rising and moon setting quietly every day. Such a humble wish actually is the most extravagant wish-think in the world.

So many past events were squeezed to the thin pictures in memory. What we had lost are expectations once upon a time and promises in the former days.

Who really believe metempsychosis? We have to bear regrets in eternality. Not much time was left on the ladder, even no time to sentimentalize. Not because of the fast elapse of time, just because life is too short.

* At the eighth anniversaries of Father’s and Elder Brother’s demise

TO A FRIEND

Rain is the tears of cloud. Tear is the bleeding of heart.

Cloud is crying for the lost brilliant sun. The sun will rise again, today, tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Hope is there all the time.

Heart is bleeding for the expectation beyond the permission of life. Depression or grief encroached upon the limited happiness. Those lost happiness will never be got back because life is short.

Did you see the rising sun in the horizon? Have you dried your eyes? If not, why pay distress by happiness? Let’s smile. Smiling will heal the wound of your heart; Smiling will keep sun shining upon your soul; Smiling will get back your lost life.

IF

If you love him (her), you should be happy for him (her) because he (she) will be happy sometime or other.

If you hate him (her), you should be happy for yourself because he (she) is doomed to die one day.

If past haunted you, please appreciate time because time can erase your memory.

If death dreaded you, just think about slumber because death is slumber without dream.

MUSIC

It’s my misfortune falling in love with music. Those small clefs are appalling goblins, bite by bite, suck my tears up.

Is it due to the sinful debt in prolife that I have to devote my sorrow to those strange composers? Again and again, I cannot help myself, being driven distraction; indifferent to my responsibilities, reneged on my promises, just like an incorrigible patient.

Is it indeed my misfortune falling in love with music? Please look at

the peace that you’d never found on earth elsewhere; the ion that you’d never had before; the loves that are out of reach forever; the new life of mine over there. Let me continue to indulge in music, never awake me up.

TEENHOOD

The sunlight was gorgeous in teenage all the time, shining upon the faces of boy and girl. However, boy began to fidget since certain time he didn’t know exactly.

Is it because of the smiling with pretended irritation that made him on the tenterhooks? Is it because of the figure, soft and slender, that drove him sleepless? Who can tell it is the puppy love as people often talked about?

Once, he went across the long alley, imagined a casual encounter. Flip flops of heartbeat could be heard through echo. He pretended to be absent-minded. Is it

the dawning of love?

In a hot summer, they came to the train station. Accidentally, he lost sign of her in the crowd. Will he stay behind to look for her or continue his trip? That was the first perplexity of the young man. Was he willed by God? Finally, he went forth alone.

Countless falls succeeded to springs. Past was buried by time. Twenty-seven years later, in a hot summer again, occasionally, they met unexpectedly. Semi-smile, light chinchin, long silence,

hum and haw. He could read the reluctance of her smiling. She seemed to say, “Did you want me to …” “…”

“Oh, my lost jewelry had been embedded on other people’s ring! If I could turn back time, I must retrieve it and bury it in my bosom.”

“Your lost treasure had been embedded on other people’s ring? There is no ‘if’ on earth. Who can turn clock back? Too late to repent.”

Trying to feign cheerfulness,

actually, he was on the bed of thorns. If she were happy, he’ll be jealous; if she had worried frown, he’ll feel dejected. Why bear this sentiment? Why met occasionally? “Forget about all these, let me get peace in unawareness.”

AUTUMN NIGHT IN NEW YORK CITY

Full of fragrance of perfume, the night was dyed by neon, where sumptuousness is prevailing. Looking back to find where the moon hangs, what I can see is high buildings, like forest full of lights in the branches.

Falling leaves just like the tears of autumn, despite they’re flying freely in the air, even for those offspring of nobles or celebrities, who have to redeem spring by their precious youths.

FALLEN LEAF*

Traffic stream. Crowd flow. Just as a fallen leaf floating down the current. Where am I going to? No idea.

I once cast myself on weeds to look for blue sky. I once stopped at a stone to listen babbling brooks. However, the rolling current won’t allow me a moment’s rest, doomed to wash me over whenever I paused awhile.

I had been frustrated deeply. Why not calm down as peace as water?

No more sorry for the fallen leaves and setting sun. No more sorry for the withered flowers. Despite the generous lapse of spring, who cares? I am not the same one as I used to be. I have become the one I am not acquainted with. Drifted down the stream, I am floating cheerfully because I turn to a drop of water eventually.

* Lyrics of theme song of script School Friend. The protagonist got first bucket of gold by betraying his school friend. Later, on his way to this friend’s funeral service, he got call from his boss; he turned his car round without hesitation. The theme song appeared on his way to the office.

RETURN HOMETOWN*

A dozen years have ed since I moved overseas. Dream of nostalgia was often broken by melancholy. Where is the small lodge that we once listened to the raindrops pattering over night? Only the setting sun was shining upon the back street again. Old alley had been made to a busy street that gave rise to so many memories. Portrait of the deceased hung on the wall that brought endless sorrows. Every vestige has been swept away. Only me remain the same.

*At the third anniversary of Mother’s demise

TO OLD SCHOOL FRIENDS

You might change your lifestyle. You might choose your profession. However, something that you will never change is our old school friends.

The former campus had changed beyond recognition. The former tales could be tasted in memory only. When we’re no longer young, when we’re encumbered with lives, my friends, you’re my comfort.

Among the vast sea of faces, why I just met you? In the long way of life, we met each other in our golden ages. Don’t you think it’s destined? Nobody could forget!

If I could have put back the clock, if I could have repeated the way of life, I will choose you again as my friends and schoolmates.

NEW YEAR OF 2010

Cloud swallowed Empire State Building in the middle when snowflakes were dancing in the air. Manhattan looked wonderful in white. Tiger roar was heard at Hudson Riverside.* Han and Tang dynasties were exclaimed over in Wall Street.** Dynasties at far east corner had lasted over thousands years. Billion people are collectively striving for national revival. Don’t sigh the similarity of snows year by year. A rising power is expected to surprise the world.

* 2010 was a year of tiger according to Chinese zodiac.

** Some companies with Nasdaq stocks contain these dynasties in their names.

EXCUSE*

Flew over mountains and rivers for three thousand miles, it’s the right time to whisper again. Don’t laugh at me of timidity. My sallow face with tears was surprising. Prefer never had encounter before to bearing heartbroken tonight. Wish we could listen leaves rustling together, no matter morning or night.

* Adopted from fiction Black and Yellow. The heroine finally excused herself from the hero’s proposed marriage by this poem.

FOREVER AUTUMN*

Gadding about musics, just like listening the harvest flies murmuring endlessly in forest. Suddenly, I was caught, woken up to earth.

My thoughts were stirred, broke the latch of memory. The familiar tune is dust-sealed pictures. The melody I missed for long stuck the pictures as clips of memory.

I saw the forest with dyed leaves again. I trampled on the rusted grass once more. In the setting sun, is it you came over quietly, or I went forward stealthily? You seemed lost in thought,

wished to speak but not to do so. You hurried through, looked dejected. Uncatchable figure faded in the eddy of smoke, like chicks that flew away in chirping, never return.

You took away the spring breeze that once caressed my cheeks. You shut out the rain in summer. Snow could not fall down. Cold wind swirled about only. No four seasons anymore, only forever autumn.

* Adopted from fiction Black and Yellow, the hero expressed his distress after the heroine left him.

COUNTRY LANE*

Zigzag lane went through small village on green hills, where so many memories were hiding. Would rather take detour of long way round, not bear the pain of dagger, lacerating heart.

Unexpectedly, I dreamed you last night, surprised by your gray hairs, hesitated to greet if you were well since we parted. Looking at each other speechlessly, only tears brimmed in eyes.

* Adopted from fiction Black and Yellow, the hero revisited the old haunt in his later years and composed this poem in wheelchair.

PART II

SONG OF THE SPRING

Looked down into the spring scenery, newborn flowers were cheerful. Red and purple mixed in massive colors; the town was full of spring in the air.

Why chrysanthemum absent in flowering shrubs? Where is her supercilious posture? Ashamed to associate with those nobodies, Burst into bloom in fall when spring is gone.

SONG OF THE AUTUMN

Autumn matured in rotation of seasons followed each other. The vestige of spring was blown away by soughing wind. Withered trees and fallen leaves grieved inwardly. Visitant geese and migrant birds headed south by instinct. Curtains pasted by frost and tiles sprinkled with dew that were all swallowed by autumn mist, congealed globules hid in hair and clothes got wet. Nothing new in the repetition of springs and autumns, With the cycles of sprout and wilt, the locust tree to the south of my home was my old friend. Don’t nag me, the familiar autumn coming again; it’s a new beginning to me.

SONG OF SNOW

Snowflakes were dancing widely when cloud pressed down at dusk; they pasted on the front window one after another. Everything dressed in white, especially, jade tomb was formed by whirling snow. The colorful world yesterday was uniformed one color today.

The timely snow promised good fortune in new year. I’ll follow the ancients’ lead, who read books under the light of fireflies. Control my desire of poetic inspiration, and devote my youth to schoolwork. Wish this snow could come back next year, paste on brand new windows.

ODE OF SPRING

Rambling around in a flowery morning of March (lunar calendar), spring had arrived, and winter was gone before I realized. Newly burst flowers pasted on tender leaves that revitalized the trees. Stroking gently, light clouds floated over woods that like buildings of green jade. Birds could hide themselves just a few days later when I focused on my curricula. Flowers bloomed luxuriantly that painted the world gorgeous. Swallows brought the spring by the mouth that the whole world wore a colorful garment. Willows were dancing in the breeze, just like the heaven on earth. The morning mists concealed the beautiful scenery subtly. Sunset glow dissipated the distress of those who had heavy hearts. Fresh shoots swayed gently in the breeze. Vermilion flowers in green trees like rosy lips on a pretty face, is there anybody knows where the beautiful flowers of previous year are hiding now? Who will cope with the aftermath of these delicate and charming flowers next year?

LIGHT IN WINTER

Part I

With raucous cry, wind squeezed into my house through cranny on the door. It’s frigid at the New Year’s Eve (year 1979). The blink light in my home looked like the vague moonlight in the sky; however, the piercing air was completely different from that on the moon.

Part II

People had fallen asleep at quiet midnight. Moon shifted to the west, and stars changed their pattern in the sky. Wind swept my window but didn’t comprehend me. Only the moon, like chaperon outside, that appreciated bookworm.

AN EPISODE

Puberty arrived unconsciously at this time last year, when I was captivated by a belle in the movie unprecedentedly. Her charm was set off greatly by bright mountain and clear water. Hills and dales were crossed over by agile canoe rowing through their shadows on river.

Her attractive smiling smote me out of the wits, as if I were in Shangri-la with dulcet songs. Wished I were living in such a Utopia. How can I endure the humdrum life to fritter my youth away?

MOURNING FOR GRANDMOTHER

How can I suffer the sorrow when I glimpsed at the empty bed in the corner? Desolation drove me to tear. In my queer trance, I saw you sitting on the bed just like yesterday. Wiped my eyes, I was filled with distress. Lamented the early demise of venerable seniority, There had been no benignity hereafter. It’s a pity that you departed just in the new beginning, Suffered too much but rare in happy days. As a new comer, you finally rested in heaven after hard work lifelong. Your nobility of character was widely ired. Don’t feel disappointed at today’s burial, More memorials will be held in the future. Springs alternated with falls in both heaven and earth; you will be ed forever.

THE FOURTH ANNIVERSARY IN JINAN*

Four years had ed since I first came to Jinan in an evening. Departed Mount Tai, I had chance to taste spring water of Jinan. Awakened with start by nightmare about old days, worried about the future with misgivings, grieved by the volatility of situation in the last decade, stirred to sigh deeply when frustration came flooding back, wished vernal breeze to blow cold air away as soon as possible, I could have opportunity to pursue my aims.

* Capital of Shandong Province, China. We moved back to Jinan after exile more than a decade.

QU YUAN* IN DRAGON BOAT FESTIVAL**

Residual flowers pushed spring to the end in May (lunar calendar). Rice dumpling always gave rise to sentiment in Dragon-Boat Festival. Staring at the south (where ancient Chu Kingdom lay), I imagined the air was full of thick dust and sand; deep in melancholy as if cold wind blew against my face when I Mi Luo River,*** Tormented by poetry numen all day long, till I composed poem to eulogize the great poet of Qu Yuan.

My thought backed to the Warring States Period when fierce battles everywhere; Green weeds were dyed red by blood under the flames and smoke. Qu Yuan devoted all himself to Kingdom Chu, but talent courtiers were always suspicious and jealous by fatuous monarch. He presented good counsel to the throne at the peril of his life and canvassed weak kingdoms for alliance, defied all difficulties and dangers. It’s a pity that domineering minion tyrannized ministers, and the relatives of the king were connived to interfere in affairs of the kingdom. Qu Yuan was shunted aside as a peripheral officer; however, he gave his best till all his heart ceases to beat.

Beard and hair were flying about in the air, Qu Yuan stood alone at Mi Luo River with despair. Staring at the side of Ying Du,**** he wept buckets that wet his long gown. Loomed his mind by flying dust and rising smoke, he was inspired to give the great poems. Qu Yuan composed the most celebrated piece “Li Sao” (Falling in Trouble). How does phoenix condescend to associate with sparrow? He’d rather die for loyalty than timeserver. Sentimental to the honk of geese flying over, Qu Yuan staggered on his way of exile. Jumped into Mi Luo River by nestling stone in his arm and buried by sands, Qu Yuan’s suicide convulsed the history. His soul of relief floated up to the heaven. This tragedy was dissolved in Mi Luo River for two thousand years, and his unswervingly loyalty was highly revered as a saint.

Qu Yuan valued orange as a model of moral for her adaptability to environment, and he showed deep sympathy for the difficult lives of the poor. Disdained rich and honor as floating cloud, Qu Yuan’s noble character and sterling integrity were shinning in history. He was ed by populace in the ceremony of dragon boats and rice wine. The smokes of incense in Dong Ting Lake***** symbolized the memorial for this idol. All sorts of feelings come to the fore in me whenever I thought of Qu Yuan’s

story. I am extremely imioned by his tragedy. Qu Yuan was counted among the greatest men in Chinese history, The sun and moon look smaller under his grandness.

* Qu Yuan (340-278 BC) was a Chinese poet and politician of Chu Kingdom during the Warring States Period (475-221 BC). He is known for his patriotism and contributions to classical poetry and verses.

** A festival commemorates the death of Qu Yuan.

*** A river where Qu Yuan jumped into, committing suicide.

**** The capital of Chu Kingdom, fell to Qin Kingdom.

***** Connected with Mi Luo River.

DRUNKARD

An inborn man had unconstrained thoughts, running wildly, Cynical about life, and sneering the society for the values. “Don’t persuade me that human beings must be fortune hunters by instinctive. I’d rather intoxicate myself on cloud with spring breeze stroking the face.”

VISIT LING YAN BUDDHIST TEMPLE*

Part I

Visited Ling Yan Temple in the chance of seeking autumn. Cut off by cloud, I left mundane world and stepped into the world of Zen. Ease and quietude, the secluded temple was just a wonderland, but it’s imaginable that the former monks would be frustrated when they were forced to secularization.** Bell tower muted, and the chant of Vajracchedika-Sutra vanished. It’d long gone of abbots’ genuflection to Bodhisattva in the smoke of incense. Hanging bells under eaves tinkled in the wind, sobbed on and off. Visitors were driven dreary by the bleak temple.

Part II

Riding clouds from afar, pilgrim came to worship sages. With mighty powers, Buddha benefited the multitudes but failed to protect himself. As an emblem of happiness, these deities witnessed good and evil on earth in the last hundred years.

Turmoil and peace had alternately happened in front of the Buddha for thousand years. It’s pity that the lotus underneath the Goddess of Mercy disappeared. The devils brought calamity to the world but were not well punished. I sighed deeply for these deities in Buddhist temples. When would your gods really escape from the entanglement of this mortal world?

* A Buddhist temple located in Shandong Province, China. It has a long recorded history and was one of the main temples in China during the times of the Tang and Song Dynasties (618-1279 AC).

** Due to political reason

IN SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY

Feel sorry for days and nights that take turns in parting, Bemoan the springs and falls ed alternatively, Sixteenth birthday had arrived in my deep sigh of the frustrated life before. Looking up the cloud and rain in the sky with uneasiness, I have to seek nature of nature after all.

RAMBLING UNDER THE MOON

It’s cool in August 15th of lunar calendar, the day of Mid-Autumn Festival. Crept upon the window, moonlight sprinkled on my desk. Withdrew my eyes from book, I stared at the guest on window, walked out my house to look for her unconsciously.

Pleasurable in the clear night with the moon. lingering about between the moon and the inspiration of poetry, floating fog-filtered moonlight softly that splashed upon me. Spread dew obliterated the features of the world tenderly. Narcissistically hung in the sky, the moon was aloof and proud in nature. Bright and clear, she emerged out of the gloom sky with elegant makings. Looking up at the moon, I bathed in the moonlight. Lost my mind, my heart flew to her in the heaven. Riding the fall breeze, I floated off the mundane world. It seemed the rosy clouds screened the sun off, and the auspicious vapor was getting condensed. Like roc outspreading her wings and disturbing Altair and Polaris, the train of my thoughts flew freely in the vast space. Departing Jasper Lake* then ing Mount Peng Lai*, I met a series of fairies.

As a guest with Mrs. Chang E, I participated in the party hosted by Wu Gang in moon palace, drank the wine fermented with Osmanthus flower, then played hide-and-seek with Toad and Jade Rabbit. Started at a pit, I woke from dream, Sighed with rueful smile for returning the earth.

Moon shifted and trees span, I went for a ramble into picturesque woods. Bright moon was gorgeous with fresh and cool air extended over thousand miles. Swaying branches in breeze sifted moonlight as filaments straightly swept the ground. Through the cracks of leaves, moonlight sparkled softly like water wave. Some poets seemed to appear in my mind; they were chewing upon new verses in a pavilion where they were dappled by sieved moonlight. It might be Li Bai** who was drunk in his poems or Du Fu*** who was sank into sentiment. Inspired by Muse, they composed immortal verses about the beauty of nature and hardship of life. Secluded and still, but I seemed heard tweedle somewhere. A tune of lute was overwhelming with sorrow. Dead leaves were swirling with the wind. Terrified partridges all rose, flying over the moon. Inebriated in the enticing night but had to leave eventually,

the clear sky and bright moon were left for nothing.

* Fairyland in Chinese traditional tales.

** Fairy poet, well-known for his bold and uninhibited style (701-762 AC).

*** Poet sage, well-known for his realistic style (712-770 AC).

AUTUMN SENTIMENT

It’s slight chill even in late summer and early autumn. Sitting alone by the window with myriad of thoughts. There had been several cycles of germination and wilt of locust trees in the south of my house. Many pens and papers worn out in my hardworking for assignments. Stars were dissipated their light in accompanying me when window got cold and desk, warm. The sun and moon were beaten out to shine me in my study, day and night. Persevered with study in spite of the hovel, Failed to enjoy the enchanting spring for years.

TO A PLAYMATE

Several cycles of spring and fall were gone since we parted. Beguiled by spirited talk like we had before, teenhood will be over and growing-up lies ahead of us. We’ll post annual rings by our own.

A MOUNTAIN

What a mountain— massive stone, precipice, and towering pines! Listen—waterfall thundering down. Watch—peaks piercing through the clouds.

STREET ENCOUNTER

What a car— flashed by as an arrow from the bow! Turned around with a start, it missed me by a hair’s breadth.

SUITE OF POEMS ON NATURE

Wind

Dense forest was swept, and thick trees shook. Startled birds flew back to their nests with shrieking. The air was saturated with dust, and the riotous clouds swept swiftly in the dark world. Smoke surge tossed over the vast horizon.

Rain

Rumbling thunder and howling wind played a tune. Black clouds scudded across the sky with rain in dense mist. Pouring water splashed on the ground, where fish can live in this choppy sea.

Snow

The dark night was shone white by snow.

Where is the separatrix between bright heaven and white earth? Everything on earth was dressed in white; only mountain was discernible.

Sunny Day

Half the global was bright when sun rose. Trees and flowers revived with chin-up and chest-out. Dark clouds escaped, and snow melted, and vast territory was dressed in colorful clothing.

VISIT MOUNT TAI

PART I

Mount Tai is top one among the five famous mountains in China which attracted tourists around the world: lofty, stern, and magnificent; mystery, prestige, and immortality; impressed by the titled pine trees and the Step Cloud Bridge; despised the perilous peaks and the precipitous Eighteen Hairpin Bend; marched on back Horse Ridge without hesitation; strolled around on the crest of the peak.

PART II

Mount Tai got off the ground to kiss the clouds. Old pine tree liked dragon, and grotesque rock liked tiger. Clear spring trickle splashed on stone. Range by range, the floating mist was swallowed by ravine. Imaged I could ride clouds flying off the ground

and swayed in the air to arrive a new world. Beautiful scenery of Mount Tai ranked number one, stood out among innumerable mountains.

BLACK DRAGON WATERFALL*

Jade dragon was hanging head downward on huge crag, stretched his neck into Black Dragon Pool. He might have crept over many ridges and valleys, drank water cheerfully under Longevity Bridge.**

* In Mountain Tai

** Above Black Dragon Waterfall

TO BROTHER*

Moon would be my friend after your farewell. Chatted with my shadow since only he accompanied me, dreaded of the solitude in the empty house. Whistled in the dark by listening radio. Sick at heart in your leaving home. Where had the persistent bicker gone? Got sick in the bustling of preparing for travel. Take care of yourself in future.

* Before Elder Brother moved to the country in answering the government’s call after his high school graduation.

SPRING FESTIVAL OF 1977

Happily gathered together in spring festival, bright and warm, we had ease of mind. Thanks, God, the disaster is over.* Enjoy the jubilant night party in the furious spring.

* Refers to eighteen years of political persecution of family, also refer to political turmoil of nation for a decade (1966-1976)

FAREWELL*

Dispirited moon faintly discernible on the sky when I was preparing for my luggage in house. Green mountain was reluctant to part, let alone me. There was spring that saw me off in former days, but it was late this year. Withered face of Grandmother rose behind the window with a waving farewell. I waved back and turned to leave. The green train pressed my heart broken but not cut my feelings. Waved farewell in the flying train, the farther away, the more distracted.

* Moved to Jinan after residency in Taian for more than a decade.

DA MING LAKE*

Spring breeze stroked willow that imaged on the smooth water. Tourists and vermilion pavilion peered from behind the woods, Paced along waterside to seek beguilement. Whom will I pour out my gloominess to? As a companion, my shadow appeared on the water. We can chat inner feelings with each other. I must write poem on a piece of paper, drifted to the confidant in water.

* In Jinan, Shandong Province, China.

LONE PLUM BLOSSOM*

Obsolete post house and ruined road, the rock is full of lichen. The clouds hung over the fields when cold air blew flowers clean away. Plum blossom stood lonely upright with a thin bird settled, and pine tree was surrounded by various grasses. If all flowers could burst into bloom simultaneously, the plum blossom would not lose an atom of her elegant demeanor. Plum blossom and pine tree are heroes in chill winter, indulged in mutual iration to wait for snow.

* Inscription to Brother’s paining of pine tree and plum blossom.

ASCENT ON MOUNT TAI

Hiking on Mount Tai strained my eyes to look at the distance where heaven and earth merged. Gazed into the boundless distance, I swept around: smoke waves in southern sea, white snow-capped Mount Chang Bai, rolling surge in Yangtze River, precipitous borderland in southwest. View could reach Europe without block by the roof of the world. Eyes got wing, I could look through everything on the world because I was standing high.

How big the world is— just the right size to hold the delusion of a lad! I guessed it might be midnight on the moon now,

constellation of stars in the sky might be early morning. Milk Way was slung up across the sky, where the rolling water fell on the earth as rain. Flew freely, I am afraid my thoughts could not be restrained, go astray, and not return.

TO MOUNT TAI

Majestic Mount Tai occupied thousands of miles. Grand peak soared up into the sky. Had accompanied me for fifteen years. Leave my appreciation wen leaving.

REUNION*

Winter was chill in the lucky year of 1978. On the occasion of blessing from God, back to hometown eighteen years later. We got reunion today. Who had foreseen this? Disaster contract had expired eventually! Rising sun drove dark cloud away. Celebrated New Year together.

* Moved back to Jinan, the capital of Shandong Province, after eighteen years’ exile

MEMORY GRANDMOTHER AT TOMB SWEEPING FESTIVAL

Tomb Sweeping Festival recalled my memories and brought my bitter ears of last winter back. Fine spring scenery came again. Whom will you set out to? ed those early days, I nestled up to your benignity. Those hardship was memorable. Greatly indebted to you for your kindness. The unexpected snow at December took you to Hades. Complained the coffin taking you away so quick. Sleepless over the whole night with broken heart. Spring followed on the heels of winter, but when will you be back? Please leave this world peacefully. Wish you had an eternal ease. May I you forever. The only place to meet you is in dream.

Pray, God bless you, be memorized for thousand years.

WORRY*

Permeated fog blurred the world in the autumn wind. I scoffed at the world with heavy heart. Future remains problematic when harassed by misfortune. How can I return home in my later years?

* Adopted from fiction Life. The hero sighed for his frustrations due to hard life.

LIFE*

Bitter tears of life in the past decade had been laughed away. Don’t repine against my unhappy lot; have a grudge against reality instead. All fears and anxiety blew against my face when I woke up. Whom will I die for?

* Thematic poem of fiction Life, a story about the hardship of a schoolteacher experienced in the time of political turmoil in China.

TO MYSELF

Strolled around by trampling on the moon cozily, seeking peace of mind with heavy heart. Leaned upon a tree to recall past with closed eyes. Reading, writing, and thinking of science, no alternative but to miss the chance to write poems. Dedication was rewarded by a letter of ission.* Accomplishment is expected. Why disappointed for this tradeoff?

* Refers to the acceptance to a master degree program of applied physics.

FIREWORK

Golden dragon danced in the air with flames and sparks spreading broadly. Colorful stars were flying wildly in the dark vault of sky. Red and purple snows descended slowly, just like Milk Way poured down.

IN TWENTY-FOURTH BIRTHDAY

Flung myself into scientific enterprise, I forgot the sun and moon, ignored the fairy land in poetry. Don’t laugh at me when I dove into laboratory for research. It’s woeful omitting the fascination of poetry. I doubted the significance in making thorough inquiry into the nature of the nature. The world of multitudes was unbearably dull. Devoted my youth to this life, when could I be a troubadour?