邊葉 Leaf on the Edge

Translated by Gordon T. Osing  

Sorry the food doesnít get to the leaf at the pondís
edge, still, you accept the homage due the beauties
at the center, being the center, leaf battlements and all,
reprising the regimens like an old regime. On the edge,
Iím nowhere in particular, a smoke-signal in a sandstorm,
a border legend, a plotless detail in the weeds of history.

Please donít make an imperial scene, or shout
anthems to the down-pours; donít pretend, with the breezes,
to grant us our ditties. Have you ever noted a marginal leaf,
observed the veins converging like noisy streets,

that challenge your blueprintsí rectangles? What about this?
Beneath the solemn appearances of the sacred blooms,
under water, roots grow together, new leaves furl in the heart.
Beneath the windsí quarrels, a hidden song needs other listening.





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Copyright © AIEL 2008. All words and images are the property of Leung Ping Kwan and his associates. All Rights Reserved.