A girl with a crush
every pure thought in her heart
she buries deep
until she misses
the warmth of spring
the romance in the summer
and the fall season comes
only to realize that love is gone
the days
when she didn't have the courage
to say
the words
bloom in regret
black blue grenade
shrapnel wound
seems an eternity
when she carefully peels back memories
wrapped so tightly in time
she starts to see
a scintilla
pink and odd
a clutch of stars
dark red and blinking
every bit as pellucid
as the teardrop coalesced
in her eyes.

The bracing raindrops
dripping
onto the wooden trellis
then hitting the stone table
i happened to have just woke up
when dusk is brewing quietly
outside the windowpanes
vestigial sleepiness dissipating
just as gradually
the fluorescent light that's turned on
stings my sense of taste for a second
and i hear the sounds of a busy kitchen
the summer heat is gone for now
i kept myself occupied all afternoon
checking and reading on my phone
if time could stand still
I'd actually like it to stay
like this
people are in a smooth
peaceful mood
it seems
like they were years ago
it also seems perhaps
it will happen again
like years from now.

The temptation
to belly-flop
on a raked pile of leaves
long-awaited greetings
foreign
yet a familiar city
semi worn-out platform
it's oh so simple
ordinary
to know you
but it has made me
think back
on every autumn day
i contemplate
the happiness that extended
from nothing more than chance acquaintance
i want to hold
onto that sweet corner
of my mind
you came in fall
does it have to be a scene
of fading greenery
why do those red leaves look weirdly
teary
my disheveled state of mind at the present time
can't afford to be challenged or tested
though i love the autumn
recklessly
including its solemn austerity
mahogany melancholy
all in honor of the pretty lady
i met you
and inordinately liked you
in that old part of the school
you came my way
and it sure was
an autumn day.

Standing on the overpass
i stop to look away
the endless stream of cars
sprinting from under my feet
dusky yellowish lights
start to illuminate the night
the city is beautiful at this time
yes it sure is
as the autumn winds blow
coolness grows
the heart feels barren
for no reason though
stars in the sky
twinkle once in a while
each one is an unknown dream
each one is too far away
a drop of rain fell from thereabouts
i saw it so i reach out
it touches my cheek
slips out of the corner of my eye
then in a trice
It floods the cityscape.

Why are the houses languishing
well, there's no one inside that's full of life
insects and reptiles
eat away at the decaying
little sounds
dust of obsolescence
piled up as wind cuts across
the parts have become so dull
from lacking a mind and soul
within
beauty of humanity deadened
by decadence
a void
corrupts the ignorant whole
I tried
to open the closed door
but i'm afraid
the locks on it
too rusted and corroded
if any life were to be breathed into the house
all doors have to be broken down
i have tried
to unlock the stone of wisdom
with the key of my thought
but i fear the medicated brain
is too rigid and tight
if the flotsam
is willing to be reborn
i will
pour some enlightened spirit
into the sensible nerves
the sun in the sky is celebrated
because the shine of it gives forth
life
the flower on the ground is too
because it's manifest
there's always a readiness
to absorb
that source.

If i had a bottle of magical reagent
I'd take out a third of it
and put it in the sky
and turn the sky as blue
as it should be
if i had a bottle of magical reagent
I would take out a third
and put it in the lake
let the lake return
to its rightful clarity
If I had a bottle of magical reagent
I would take out one-third
and put it in my heart
let my heart be restored
to its original innocence
if there's such a bottle of reagent
I'd think to myself
i would sit
under the azure welkin
watching fluffy clouds
smooth flowing waters
I'd feel as light as the breeze
and my heart as wild
as a bee.

When the moonlight
lowers
i see in the night
a tearful ghostly light
don't know where it came from
can't even get a whiff
but i know
the petunia is meditating
unperturbed
can't really read her heart
can't tell how strong
she actually is
though the frost and dew
have barged in
the angle of the fallen fence
is expanding
but this i know
when the morning comes
she'll be awake
she'll be something different
i know
it must be the sunrise
that is able to mulch and sprout
the most captivating smile.

All trees
dressed in pink
the longings
that were planted here
over the years
I've been faithful
in my visits
approaching gently
quietly leaving
pink and white petals
like devoted butterflies
flapping their wings
to decorate that sky
of memory
beautiful things of the mortal world
finally return
the season of sakura
like my thoughts fluttering about
in the first flush of her romance
the sanctity of this retreat
the pink flames
reflected on lovers' foreheads
fragrances
stored in the depths of time
fly out towards
our love affair.

A place of silence
the bed of an exhausted runlet
parched and windless
it can make us remember
the part when we touched
some of us used it as a mirror once
saw in its rippling
the shimmering scales
of fleshed out time
it seemed real
it's frightening to realize it's real
we can recall when the never-ending flow
is exhilarating
alive
unlike other mysterious phenomena
now everything seems irretrievable
though we can still vaguely
hear its voice
in our lives
everyone carries with them
a streamlet
but we never want to be clear
about the existence
and future of the stream bed.

Live your life
though it's not an easy thing to do
especially for those who are not born with inheritances
every step of the way is rampant with imbalances
it's also because the world is riddled with contrived rules
everywhere it's still primeval law of the jungle
sometimes we're not strong enough
but at all times we need to think for ourselves
protecting ourselves is the only way
making it possible for us
to live a life
many choose to conform to the practices of the society
some choose to stay true to their humanity
the two choices often find themselves in conflict
not saying there's no reconciliations
staying true to yourself
is not preordained to be a confrontation to the world
sometimes it can be more of an integration
because when you know yourself
you become tolerant of the world
because the more you love yourself
you have to learn to love the world
and slowly you'll be able to live out
your own life
the process is never easy
but it's the only way to understanding life
to loving it most of the time.

Watering the plants
is not a meaningless task
crumbs of green in their pots
growing as they please
random yet adamant
i'm a little tired in this
early summer evening
on this 18th floor balcony
they have become my scenery
perhaps not willingly
but i feel natural and fulfilled
the goldenrod
the boat orchids
the spearmint
periwinkle and lantana
i fill a plastic container with water
slowly i imbue it into the
gradually darkening dusk
earlier i was reading some blogs
with lofi music playing on my phone
fresh and fluent
the mood is like opening a door
then another door
the plants enjoy the melody now in stillness
they make no further comments.

Needless to say
my heart is sometimes a jungle
a wilderness
there are many little
monsters that stalk the landscape
sometimes they behave like a ginger fawn in the headlights
sometimes like a lone wolf with blue stripes
sometimes they wriggle like anthias fish
sometimes sleep like a serpent
i have no way to confine them
nor can i bear to
they too
need care and comfort
when they're hungry they need me to feed them
if i don't see them for days
have they forsaken
left me behind
i just have to ask
as if they never existed
i'm always so focused on the deities and gods
little monsters also need to be nourished by love
when they feel the warmth love thawed and molten
they become more innocuous, pure and lovelier
than humans or immortals
this brought me to a realization
so called monsters or savages is just
a lack of affection
and the harm caused by limitations
the harm which is invisible at the root
it stems from established prejudices, discrimination, contempt
which more often than not
they are unintentional oversights, misunderstandings and ignorance
why do i love so hard
maybe because there are still too many little monsters
in my digital world.

The height of summer
days become the hot embracing
during
passionate love making
it's hard to breathe
torso behaves like pancake
tossing and turning on the mattress
body is a fire spitting dragon
roasting every corner of the bed
or the grill if you will
mosquitoes are lions on the savanna
lying in wait by the river
so many spots to start
cravings dragged toward the abyss
to drink in the sweetened coolness
birds in the tree
screaming from the heat
leaves curled up and blinded in fear
the earth is a fresh bun in the steamer
flowers faint left and right
amidst smell of charring
the sun laughs loudly
sending chills down some spines
when i see a lake i wanna dive in
i don't care about the gossip
or the hazard at the deepest
I'm a cheater that's been cheating
beyond the worldly paradigm
tears of rain are swirling in the sky
the winds hide on the other side
everyone in torment
expecting
plenty of sweating and swearing
all kinds of fans waving and spinning.

I never lack an audience
even if it's just one person
i have
the cranium of poetry
humbly poised to be placed high
nirvana in a verse
is not to be flaunted
just like the distant incident of snow
remains far and illusive
only the wind knows
the interstice between the heaven and the ocean
the interstices amidst the words
only time knows
i never lack an audience
even if all the readers
who have come from all bearings
have gone
well, i knew that sooner or later
they will leave too
i just hope that when they do
they don't forget it all like a hangover
that'd be a cinch
i never need an audience
time is always by my side
the one true
underwriter.

I don't want to sit
in a party where the dialectic
just don't make sense
I don't want to listen to a meeting with
wall to wall rhetoric
and I fear the swarming
of gossip
at the encounter of such occasion
I am sure to be the first figure to leave
I wouldn't heed or bother
with the blank stares
never really cared
about the frowns the scowls
the looks of revenge
by nature I am afraid
of being caught in the smog of life
wrapped in its layers
I know that the more I get caught up in it
the more chaotic and confusing is the turbulence
the darker it gets.

The wind rises
in the courtyard
baring extraordinary
imaginings
faithful oscillations
of space time
evanescence of
life and death
always mutedly
move side to side
the wind rises
the whole range of experiences
of a flower-like butterfly
venturing through
the damp and dusty
it makes the bronze in the night
cry in its reply
a rustling sound woke me up
its the sycamore castle outside
that carries the burden of dawn
the tree is just like a book opened
birds, insects etc are inserted in the pages
i walk into the bones
to eavesdrop on the breath of this minute
to learn its calmness
and indifference
towards the coming and going
of multifarious clouds.

It was raining
I stood at the intersection
poetry romps in my heart like a little digimon
the world seems outsize
the city disciplined
because of the rain
transparent umbrellas
in the lens of the live cam
misty skyscrapers
extendable streets
picture of the past
withered like a leaf on the bench
the rain falls from somber sky
and visits every part
it is the countless stitches of time
moving densely together
mending the scattered
cold and lonely
little hearts.

Can't possibly forget
your red
flaming lips
from then on I was obsessed
with you
and i felt it deep
beautiful memories
heavenly like stars
you light up this light
in me
in the dark nighttime
can't possibly forget
the passionate kissing
i'm attached
stability of life you provide
through ordinary nights
you open a door for me
through the warm and cold times
you are the one
i gave my heart and soul to
i loved you so real i couldn't let go of you
we've known each other
cherished each other
you're the one i'm sure
that made me so freaking wonderful
and bold
and not worry about scars
or wounds
when we were friends.

I like a quiet night
like this one here
I can hear my own footsteps
clear
occasionally a small car
drives by
not too fast
not in a rush
the street lights on both sides
light up the width of the road
not for the long journey
but for the season of cold
stars are high and distant
moon has been asleep
traffic lights at the crossroads
languidly they alternate
green and red not matter what
shining on the thin layer of unbroken snow
the night would be suitable
for couples
asking each other for warmth
witnessing the crystalline
spell of winter.

I went against the grain
by tightening the blinds
turning off the lights
the bedroom then became
a bottle of ink
filled with ink either black
or blue
lying in my bed
like an undissolved bit
the world is jet black
i close my eyes and mouth
so as not to choke on the darkness
at this point the yearning
becomes light and thin
pale and faint
and finally it faded
like daylight
the stranger I've come to be like.

Thinking of her
is a happy and smiley thing
it's been a while since
I've felt this kind of gratification
I was once naive enough
to think that a few simple relationships
had made me lose the ability
to love
i can only say that i'd not met
the right person yet
the experience is always useful
no matter what kind
it makes you understand society
and human nature
smile permeates life
when the reliance on you becomes
a habit
it takes up the whole space
of nerve
hugs always
make me feel the most solid warmth
being together with you
becomes the only faith
the bond between you and me
slowly sublimes
this is what you bring to me
my love
when life gave me tears
you said "i'm here"
when time gave me pressure
you said "I'm here"
when distances gave me worries
you said "I'm here"
the past gave me a sense of loss
you said "I'm here"
the future gave me confusion
you said "I'm here"
when the words "I'm here"
sit in my mind
i began to believe
in your love
i began to sink deeper into it
one last promise, my love
be with me til forever and never
apart.

So many doors
tightly closed
the need for more clothing and food
can't be kept out
it's a small hamlet
by the river
when a man stamps his foot
the whole village wobbles
a slap from a woman
and the whole village is flooded with tears
a cough in the dark
reveals bricks of secrets
two old stone mills
like an old couple who
have worn out their lives
wind leaks through four walls
a candle light dim and faint
not a synonym for romance and cozy
but luxury
when they can't afford kerosene
they eat, wash, get in the blankets
before the candlelight goes out
remainder of the light is only
for the maternal needlework
a curve creek
clear and lucid
when catching fish and mud-skippers
they become as happy as the water
joyful shrieks waft
in the smoke from the cooking stove
these scenes which can only be
returned to if time regressed are
very much alive in memory
they just didn't grow with me
many years later the warren
became a rustic retreat
days of the dirt and soil
became a wandering cloud
the stubborn local sounds
suddenly emerge from baseless thoughts
the mushed corn
the yam gruel
carrots and cabbage
feeding the dream
the mountains, the water, the people
the kindly kampung
the birthmark
of that era.

Lost
in the thick green forest
stuck
and can't get through it
to get out
i don't know where i am
don't know what time it is
don't even know who i am
anymore
can't dial the right numbers
can't get through to anyone
finally when i did get through
the person on the other end
would be a family or friend
who sees me as an unknown  
stranger
i think this is a conspiracy
i might have been deleted from the regime
of the human society.

Every morning the first thing
is do the subtraction
washing the body
from head to toe
drain all the crud
excretion
combing to get rid of some fallen hair
then do the addition
shove one capsule after another
down the stomach
when it's getting chilly
and there's no color green in front of you
take some vitamin C
to allow some green herbage
grow in your system
when it's dawn
and the sun keeps bouncing up and down
take some Prozac to reduce
the bumpiness of the road
when i was little
i was like a pill
trying to get into the tummy
the tummy was big and strong
and i was thrown all over the place
now the pill found that i was its rival
and had to tame my raging waves
i began to obey
the pill releases tenderness
and soothes me with a sanguine
emoji
it conducts the music
of the forest glade
inviting the swans
with its verdant melody
and my fingers no longer want
to reach the sky
my eyes choose the tranquility
of a placid lake
i even started liking the sound
of putrefaction that is not of impulse
but of delight in transiency
now i submit to this tiny ruler
mysterious yet earnest
that resides in the horizon
i like the freedom
i don't object to its amiability
nor its autocracy.

I don't actually know
why do i often have trouble
sleeping
maybe it's because i love the night
more than I've ever loved the daytime
in my heart i always feel
the darkness seems to be directed
at my loneliness
you can see it standing by
my loneliness
without saying any word
it's not leaving
no need to light a lamp
it's often a wisp of moonlight
that shines through the window
far and near, the harmonious
sound of robins
at this time i want to see more
of the moon
at this time i seem to understand
it's insomnia that's completed
my loneliness
and made the darkness and me
the ones who keep watch
over each other.

After all these years
when i step into
the land of rye
i can still hear summer
its most authentic heartbeat
roar of the machine takes over
from the rasping scythe
cutting through stalks
when the grains are harvested to the barn
they'll be no more painful stubble at the feet
after many years
the summer is still so **** hot
i like it just as before
the season of mellow mango scent
and pleasant earthly aroma of barley
though all beings are a little deflated
no one wishes to light the flame
at the moment i miss the dense woods in the distance
because that's where cool breezes are born
i appreciate the hospitality of the cotton and corn
they keep bringing the joy of maturity
flowers are exceptionally generous
they keep painting the landscape
standing on the fresh verdant ground
let the rainstorm clean my dusty soul
summer is the season of zeal
i will extract the poetic fragrance
on every lush green plant
so that folks longing for a peaceful mind
can get a peaceful lyrical feeling
across this summer
i especially like the other side of the water
where i can dance with the shy lotus
this summer i've gathered
a bowlful of poems to read
with you.

The swallows return
unveiling the garment of spring
it's a season of greenery
walking in the field
a beautiful painting is in front of you
butterflies will show you the way
light wind will dance
climbing to the top of the hill
the brook will sing for you
run with you
hot sun in the blue sky
will make your body shine
in this sweet season
I'd like to walk with you
and walk into the depths
of the flowery splendor.

I'm like an overgrown child
in this world
who keeps bumping
and stumbling
I've tried to change too
its emotional intelligence they say
so i put on a mask
and learn to walk smooth
learn to speak in an confident way
but then my true personality
would be exposed soon
becuz the mask makes me breathless
i start to despise the pretense
so I'm back to square one again
and keep banging my head
the world is too big and tall
it's supposed to be able to accommodate all
kinds of people
the first thing you need to do
is grow up
but the only thing left is
i am standing still
i am not afraid anymore
of being alone
i just want to pursue
my own sun and moon.

I always feel
where there are many people
love can easily happen
every meeting of eyes
will touch the soul
it makes you tremble
on the day of Valentine's day
the city is ecstatic and
in a kind of turmoil
the bars are full
coffee shops are out of seats
cheesy hotels are out of beds
the night is charged with sensuality
lovers embracing on a street corner
moist lips inhaling cheap love
the draft of it is
bouquets of fake roses
love codes sent out by cell phones
illusory lovers on the network
obsessively typing those exciting words
tapping and clicking and fiddling with
incredible flirtation
love was initially innocent and lovely
but then came the flowers
the chocolates
the money and power
fairy tales and fables
even a wolf can fall for a sheep
love has changed its tone
soul has changed its note
lips have changed colors
before the gold of the player
the voice of some crooner
is floating in the sound store
the same cry is heard
from thousands of hearts
"Baby please come back to me"
every minute and every second
becomes a burning thirst
middle aged lady on the last train
carefully holding her gift
holding with a certain devotion
smile on the corner of her mouth
seems to be telling a story of
romance that has not grown old
yet.

From A to Z
we need
to learn to return
to zero
when we come to a new place
we need to learn to pack up the past
put it away
start over
like a child
getting to know the world
like a sponge
absorbing water of the ocean
like opening your eyes
after darkness has gone
going back to zero
is the sterilization of the past
the emergence of new
future.

Love is not peace
or happiness
love is the passion
of poppies that bleed
profusely
love is the emptiness
of a poisonous thorn
that ****** the heart
love is the kiss of a rose
that doesn't know what to do
love is a dangerous game
people either die without regret
or live with pain in their necks
love is the white spaces of the years
left to our imagination
sometimes it's like sand in our hands
the tighter we hold it
the faster it fades
fortunately when it does
our soul can regain some peace.

It's raining

cold water hogged the streets

people rain watching

watching the same script

rain washing the frontage

revealing long-lost clarity

dazzling colors of the wall

rise from the ground.

The girl i liked
she's the one with eyes starry
like the night sky
a mouth red and cherry-like
her smile
is the springtime rain
that gently awakens hundreds
of flowers
i don't know when exactly
i fell in love with her
the love germinated
perhaps concealed in the bashfulness
during high school
i knew it's love
when her head's on her desk
glasses on one side and sleepy-eyed
i couldn't help but take one more glance
my love for her
was hidden in a piece of eraser
in her little piece of bread
the feeling of liking her
is when i remember her smile
either with friends or alone
it is also after we parted ways
the feeling of missing her
couldn't forget and couldn't let go
she appears in my dream
running to me
the girl i liked
her name is so special
i still hope i can meet her
even if it's just one time
i will no longer hide
my love
i hope the thread of fate
pulls us together
love essentially
is the miracle of destiny
the girl i liked so much
her name contains neon and beverage
it's been inscribed here
since forever.

The stars
look at me
they no longer blink
some thoughts
drowned by the night
half a moon peeks out
from behind the clouds
to adorn a little bit of
my dream
the shooting starry trajectory
such a beautiful poetic scenery
some people wake up at night
some go to sleep
staying up with you
day after day
dream after dream
when the sky is full of stars
that hide our mutual dream
holding your hand and walking with you
into the distant horizon
would have made me
the happiest person
beneath the heaven.

Chaotic winds
whir and wail all day
skewing clocks and towers
ponderous footsteps
of pumpkin
tainted night
twisted space
scattered light falls
like blades of rain
between the evergreen
a mutual transmission of
unusual potential horror happening
whirl of emptiness
a dead river
bone-eating road
murky sound shimmers
gradually from the strings of mirage
spatial queries galore
skeletal fingers pressing on pain and sores
chaotic winds herald
a slightly terrifying
muddied scene
contorted space
meager light pierces the dark
galloping horse flows into sight
dreams begin
festival and fantasy merge
clamor of dust disappears
silence after the explosion
a sole survivor
quiet gladiator
battle garb cloaked in endless skies
regalia of stars
tamed shadowy beasts of forest
strong sounds of symbols
breaths sink into deep sea
below the bed at midnight hide
a starry dream
swimming fish
drifting silence
translates wandering wraiths
into undecipherable scripts
on stones of grave.

Days of pots and pans
ladles and bowls
sweet words have been
cut down
during the day
the habitual silence
can only be broken
with stainless steel forks and spoons
at night the bed routine
both tied back to back
snoring and buzzing of mosquitoes
intimate conversation happened
a long long time ago
this double bed
bigger than the endless night
the fatigue and exhaustion
they can only tell you the next morning
with a wry smile.

The lake is little different
chlorella puts a green coat on her
when the wind comes
thick ripples appear
remnants of lotus and withered reeds
some pierce up the sky
some bow to the water
the branches of willow on the shore
still they keep the same demeanor
they like touching the tip of your nose
sometimes you bump into their arms
little surprises await in the cold
of wind and drizzle
you walk slowly on the periphery
in the fine rain of the morning
vivid knotweed guarding the mound
lettuce offers four-petal florets
radish flowers are not in full bloom yet
though the rain of last night
is still hanging around the corner of your eye
the lively vegetable farm by
the lake doesn't lie
little cabbages aren't afraid
when we lean forward we see
it is a fun-sized garden.

That year
we met
watching you smile
from afar
i dared not look back
that month
we started getting used to texting
on a daily basis
exchanging stories and banters
encouraging each other to go through
things we had to go through
that day
you said out of the blue
you decided to stop talking to me
cold turkey
i could not
that night
i saw some of ourselves
in some Makoto Shinkai movies
you and i
we could not go back it seemed
that moment
i let it happen
you and i became sudden
strangers.

Tonight
winds are small
still there is a chill
the warmth of poetry
for me it's always been
here
it's great to be able
to write some tidy
things down
like butterflies in springtime
as always enthusiasm
can set poetry alight
brighter and brighter
tonight
i indulge in warm writing
i take the initiative
to be with poetry.

I can't help but text her
pretend to be casual
asking how she is doing
i put down my phone
and found out suddenly
that one person
just walked into my heart
just like that
it turns out love is so simple
i started to miss her
couldn't help but care
about every day
in another city
every time i receive a soft greeting
i feel fine
love is just simple
every night
i can't help but recall
her smile
over and over again
i always want to
bury it deep in my heart
but can't help to want to
see it resurface
in front of my eyes
love is just a limbo
it's that simple.

I want to climb this mountain

I fear not its height

the mountain becomes tiny

when there is a belief in victory in me

i want to climb this mountain

i fear not the dense brambles and thorns

so be it if i had to leave behind

a trail of my own blood

i will still break through the spiked army in the end

i want to climb the mountain

i am not afraid of tigers nor leopards

as long as there is a shotgun in my hand

the beasts will run off

with tails between their legs

i will climb this mountain

i am not afraid of bumpy roads

as long as i treat it like staircase

the mountain is nothing but a lotus

at my feet.

That day
I put her name
within a eulogy
I won't remember her
anymore
that day
I got her name
engraved on a headstone
buried with the years
long gone
that day
no flowers and hope
her name
i won't think about it
ever again
then
her name
disappeared in the sea
of my mind
farewell the one
who crushed my soul
silently.

Little dog running hard
toward the parked cars
looking and sniffing
then rushes to the next one
panting
eyes filled with anxiety
seeking the owner who abandoned it
big round eyes all teary
it must be thinking sadly
"if i get to become a human in the next life
i will do anything to be kind
adopt a cute puppy
and stay with it
until the end of time."

At the time
we would copy all the lyrics
in our beautiful notebooks
delicate string could be wound into patterns
between the fingers
we would play hopscotch til we're red in the face
at the time
the lotus seeds were sweet
flowers were fragrant and fish were small
there were fruits we loved to eat all over the hillsides
we would run barefoot in the moonlight
we would look up stubbornly
to find the big dipper in the sky
at the time
clouds were white
scarecrow was cute
many mimosas on the road to school
dandelions would fly all over the world too
the best time
lost in the strong wind
I'm on the other side
the time is gone like
a torn kite.

Ancient temple bathed in morning sun


lotus blooms quietly in front of the hall


here i am an uninvited visitor


lost in the golden Sanskrit sounds


bells of the temple echo deep in the mountains


looking at the solemn face of Buddha


unspeakable thoughts flow slow


thousands of books i've read


just to find an answer


thousands of miles traveled


just to find a place where the soul can dwell.

Another lonely night


watching night-blooming cereus


wind quietly passes by


dewdrop touches my eye


lonely street


traffic coming


going


dusk quietly leaves

the face of this


lonely window


looking at the world outside


alone


raindrops turn into tears


on my fingertips


memories fall heavily


on my heart again


and again


lonely spring morning


riding alone in lush surroundings


sounds of birds and water


sorrow of the wind


gently blows.

If today

I never wrote

I would have disappointed

this spring

I can't remember

last year

or even springs before it

I can't remember how many split

seconds surrounded me tenderly

like water

I hide in the house

can't see the crimson of a certain flower

can't hear the sound

of a delicate bud jumping for joy

I can only

hold a cup of aged green tea

fantasy or speculation

glistening verdant details

of all things

when I look back at so many springs

many years later

I remember this

every breath I breathed

I had waited.

Don't know why

you're always there

in my mind

can't be forgotten

when the night wind blows

the moon in the sky shines

i suddenly see

your beautiful figure

in front of me

you sit there

combing your long hair

grumbling about your acne scars

your voice is beautiful

can't be duplicated

falls in my heart

your voice evokes

a desire

to be at your side

unforgettable you

just like the bright

moonlight.

A touch of the setting sun
clouds redly stained
the wind skims through jungles
and mountains
then stops
at the entrance to the valley
solitary whispers of birds
awaits
wandering alone
in the wilderness of time
sun gradually drops
a few big trees
hold up the sky
in this valley i'm reaching
as if trying to catch yesterday's sun.

Here

i count the years

story after story

deep-seated feelings

and sincerity

i open a diary

and feel

the four seasons

the love and ambitions

as my heartbeat

accelerates and halts

repeatedly.