19 September is the Chinese Festival of Mid-Autumn*

It’s Mid-autumn of the Bing Chen year
And I’ve been drinking happily all night.

I'm drunk
.
So I write this poem

to remember my brother, Zi You.

With a cup of wine in my hand,
I asked the blue sky
‘When will the moon be clear and bright?’

’In the heavens on this night,’ it said.

I wonder what season it is in heaven.

I'd like to ride homeward on the wind
Yet I fear the mansions of crystal and jade

are much too cold and far too high.
If I dance with my moonlit shadow,

It hardly seems a human world.

The moon comes round
Behind the red mansion,
Stoops to enter the carved wood doors,

Shining upon all sleeplessness,

it bears no grudge,
 oh why
Does the moon tend to be so full
when people are far apart and alone?

We feel sorrow, we feel joy.
Whether we’re near or distant
It makes no odds.
The moon may be dim or bright,
A crescent slice or round as a ball.
This imperfection has always
been there; since time began.


Tonight may we be blessed
with a life that’s long and true.
Though a thousand miles lie
between us, we can surely share
the beauty of this autumn moon -
together.