Farewell to Mable
(Translated from my original poem written in Chinese)
Everyone must leave this world without exception.
Sooner or later you must go home to your final destination.
Your resting place may be over the mountain or by the water.
So mystical is your journey even the wise ones bewilder.
People complain that life is too short from the very beginning.
How can one measure a lifetime of deep affection and feeling?
Friends and relatives everywhere feel sorrowful during your final days.
Separated by rivers and mountains, the road to see you is too far away.
From now on, sorrows and worries will vanish forever.
You will no longer be hurt by pains or a natural disaster.
The state of your mind will be as calm as the smooth water.
You can no longer be disturbed by a noisy and sarcastic speaker.
Wherever your eternal sleep may be, you will be at peace.
Flowers and plants around you will keep emitting fragrance.
(tr. E. C. C.)
Rambling Thoughts at Sea
Mocking Myself at Sea
Tune: Feng Ru Song (Wind through Pines)
How much longer can I live I do not know.
I wish IT would come late, as least for now.
I have walked through circuitous and dangerous roads in life.
Looking back, I have an uneven share of happiness and hard time.
Field of vision can be enhanced in adversity.
Compatibility arises when we value diversity.
In my sunset years, I started to learn poetry and rhymed prose.
In my walk, to the tune of a Song lyric I tried to compose.
I like both the Tang rhythm and the Ancient style.
From a bilingual perspective, I learn from the masters I admire.
I enjoy studying the works of Bai Ju Yi and Tao Yuan Ming.
I revere Wang Xi Zhi and Laozi, the author of Dao De Jing.
(written and translated at sea, Feb. 2016, E.C.C.)
Greeting the Year of Monkey
In the midst of a blizzard, we bid farewell to the old lunar year.
No old sheep is in sight; so wild the little monkeys appear.
Confined indoor for three days, we have little room to move around.
With two feet of snow in the city, where can we be bound?
So fortunate to have a neighbor who will come to clear our driveway.
I wish I could raise my shoulder and arm to shovel the snow away!
So sad to watch the deer lingering around our "dwarfed" cypress.
I do sympathize with them as they must cope with their hunger stress.
Let the Cypress Tree Speak for Itself
Unlike the desolate woods, I do not wither.
In bitterly cold, I still look enchantingly tender.
Wind and frost fail to bring me down.
Assaulted by snow and ice, I am still around.
Nothing the old fellow can do with two feet of snow.
He watches helplessly as the deer eat me three days in a row.
He did use a net to protect my lower body from the deer.
Now dwarfed, I beg for mercy and ask them to stop coming here.