under the warm sun
can not bear to disturb
stop our tracks
to cherish the moment
He used to say
I wasted my life
by watching the world
going around me
I used to say
He spent all his time
on building an ideal world
We were both
so black and white
the truth about life
It will make me happier to see you than read your poems. However it will give me more joy to watch you writing poems than see you.
Do I keep dreaming to see you or settle for the reality that you are happily doing what you love?
This is an interpretation of Jun’s poem written in Chinese.
Remember that summer evening
under the mulberry tree
sky full of green and cyan clouds
witnessed our pledge of love
would be like the ripen mulberries
Now I am revisiting the scene alone
the heavy mulberries dangling on my forehead
laughing at my naiveté
We were once young and pure
three decades of success and failure
we are now with silvery temples
our love had long been bruised
like the dark purple mulberries
I've been searching for the glorious stars in the ebony sky
forgetting the prolonged Southern monsoon season.
When the shooting stars gathered to attract my attention,
I was blind to their unifying light
and missed the splendid meteor.
He used to bring me lavenders at sunset
The subdued scent lulled me into peaceful sleep
I blushed when dreaming your fingers subtlety brushed my hand
Before sunrise I'd already waited patiently by the window
This piece is a translated meaning of Jun’s original poem in Chinese. Jun is a loving husband, a proud father and a successful business man. His love for literature and tea remain throughout his life.
I only know this life even reincarnation may be real. The rain stopped as tears also dried out in my hollow and withered frame. I may sit in solitary and mesmerised by the past. And yet no amount of sweet memory surpasses my speck of reality.
Time drifted away and aged me. I still broadcast my love to the clouds. They echo within the walls of my ears, so loud and clear. But I wake up every morning and experience the same realisation that they are just dreams. I cannot defeat this mundane life. Poetry and prose are my only hope to keep on living.
不论几世仅一生，泪干雨歇花凋零， 重忆情恩俱往昔，柔情蜜意愧真人。 不论光阴岁月残，对云寄语几心思， 回音徒塞两耳鸣，岂知梦醒一场空， 按停时空成俗子，待将余生做愚诗。