心中迷 – Confused Heart


花香月影小提琴, Amidst the fragrant flowers, a moonlight shadow playing the violin,
絃聲愁過夜鶯啼. The strings sadder than a nightingale’s song.
知音何時散入夢? When did the voice of my intimate friend diffuse into my dream?
清風掃解心中迷. The gentle breeze sweeping away the knots of my confused heart.

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Your Morphean World


 

The sun is seen no more in the horizon.  It is now quiet and peaceful; just a warm breeze caressing the tree tops. Within another hour or so, this darkening sky will turn into a vault of twinkling stars, transporting you to the land of dreams.  Like an orphan, you have no choice but to follow the voice that is beckoning you from the dark.  Slowly but surely, your eyelids began to droop and finally closed.

The silence swirling in the darkness will bring you hope and joy.  In this Morphean world, you are neither lost nor to be found.  Until the first rays of the sun kiss you awake, releasing you from your Sleeping Beauty spell, you renew as the new day cometh presenting you new challenges and opportunities.  They await like your handmaidens. So command them well.

Based on someone’s imagery.

 

 

Sweet Mutterings


花間甜言蜜語是最好聽的一首歌曲. 但對於一些人來說, 是最難入耳, 甚至會感覺到心寒. 是歌是懼, 那就看你的歲數了. 年輕天真的十六, 不如經歷過狂風暴雨的失戀者. 甜言蜜語, 是真是偽, 唯有時間知曉.

贈君一法决狐疑,
不用鑽龜與祝蓍.
試玉要燒三日滿,
辨材須待七年期 – 白居易, 放言五首之三部份

Sweet mutterings amidst the flowers is the most melodious song.  However to some, it is the most difficult thing to hear.  Even it may make the heart grows cold in fright.  Whether a song or fear depends on one’s age.  Young is the naive sweet sixteen, unlike those who had been jilted tumultuously.  Sweet mutterings, whether real or false, only time will tell.

To you I bestow a sure way to ease your doubts,
Need no tortoise shell to divine nor yarrow stalks to foretell.
Three days are needed to test if it is jade,
And seven years to determine if it is a camphor tree.

周公恐懼流言日,
王莽謙恭未篡時.
向使當初身便死,
一生真偽複誰知.

Lord Chou is afraid of the day when rumours spread,
Wang Mang courteous and respectful before his usurpation.
If one dies before his time,
Then neither truth or falsity will be known.

後庭花 – 幽魂張麗華 – Courtyard Flower, The Soul of Chang Li Hua


Image

夏天永在此, 四周蜂蝶花香. 苑中無處不迎人. 微風柳垂, 陽光滿灑身上暖. 有何人不歡樂? 苑中一人世界, 時刻在此停流, 不如世外窅然去. 此地非仙界, 只是一魂心緒靜.

見境觸情,一聲一色無限貴, 花雖香, 蝶雖麗, 難補心中缺. 天籟雖悠揚, 但不如知音勝. 獨舞瀛臺上, 迎風兩袖飛. 徘徊當時青絲七尺長, 享盡人間榮華富貴. 臨春, 結綺, 望仙一霎烟水閑. 莫怪他人妬我倩, 只恨此迷魂顏. 我非妲己, 高熲非子牙.  幽魂永不歇.

此地非仙界, 亦非一魂心緒靜. 千秋綿綿悔, 永鎖於此後庭地獄間.

Summers are forever here.  Everywhere there are bees, butterflies and fragrant flowers.  Nary a place in this garden not a welcome sight.  Gentle breeze blows and willows sway.  Gorgeous sunlight embracing me in warmth.  How could not anyone not be in joy? In this garden, a world of only one.  Time stops still here, unlike those of the outside world slipping by.  This place, not a fairyland, just a place of one soul’s quietude.

As I look at these sights, each sound, each color so ever precious.  Though the flowers are fragrant, though the butterflies beautiful, they hardly fill my empty heart. The sounds of nature may be haunting, they do not know me well. Alone I dance on the Ocean Terrace; my two long sleeves billowing in the wind.  Dithering here and hesitating there, I remember the yesterdays, my hair of seven feet long.  A luxurious life I did partake.  Where are the pavilions of Approaching Spring, Beauty Maker and Peering of the Immortals now?  All disappeared like fleeting whimpering in the vanishing mists.  Blame not the jealousy of others of my peerless beauty.  I hate this soul-snatching face of mine. I am no Daji and you sir, Gao Jion is no Tzu Ya! My eternal lonely soul cannot rest.

This place, not a fairyland, neither a place of one soul’s solitude.  A thousand years’ regret, eternally locked in this courtyard of Hades.

Inspired by the song Enchantment

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Consort_Zhang_Lihua

Bygone Dreams


The heavy hand of Allah,
Shifting the burning sands of the Sahara.
Where now, is the great Temple of Ishtar?
A thousand years of glory –

Just a twinkle of the eternal stars!
Mighty forests once lushed with life in green
Spreading afar…
Are now but underground tar!

28 Jul 94

This poem was inspired by the CD “All One Tribe” by Scott Fitzgerald.  Heavy in drum beat, it evokes a sense of the shifting desert sands, together with the wailing in the background, paints a Middle Eastern Image influenced by a haunting melody of a western touch.

Faerie Prince


Will you be my wings?
And show me magical things.
Take me to place I never been before,
To wondrous sights I ever saw.

Life is wonderful with you around,
Always walking on air and never the ground.
Hold me tight that I never fall,
Forever grasp me in your awe.

Whatever it may seem,
Please let me dream.
Are you my faerie prince?
Is that a wink or a wince…

05 – 24 May 94

Inspired by Let Me Be Your Wings from the animation “Thumberlina”, a duet sung by Cornelius and Thumberlina.

Midnight Hunt


Ride into the deepest night,
Thunderous clouds gather in fright.
Swifter than the midnight wind,
Demon rider flashing in evil grin.
Hell hounds and headless horse,
On a hunt with no pause.
Flee as fast as you can,
In pain, in torment you ran.

***

Little white hare look not back,
Just hear the whip goes whack, whack, whack.
Till the day you are behind,
Only then will peace and rest you find.

Who will be the brave one?
So forever, you must run, run, run!

***

Power leaping dangerously from my reins,
Blind love surging frantically in my veins.
Swifter than the midnight wind,
Desperate lover on needles and pins.
On my white horse with golden mane,
Calling out your name in vain.
Just hear my tears go drip, drip, drip.

Till the day you’re in my embrace,
The truth you’ll find and face.

Inspired by Right in the Night (and Love the Music) by Jam & Spoon.  I misheard the phrase and thought they sang, Ride in the Night.

Based on the Devonshire tale, Midnight Hunt of an old woman who, out of compassion, saved an enchanted hare accidentally from the devil during the eternal midnight hunt. 

Only when the hare is behind the hunting pack would the spell be broken and out from the old woman’s basket rose a maiden fair. 

This poem was written in 06 Dec 1993 from three angles, from the outsider, the pursued and the pursuer.