Words on a Manuscript Calling on Things in the Past
--《笠詩刊》365期2025.02月號)
Words on a Manuscript Calling on Things in the Past
In this poetic garden of spring flowers and autumn frost,
Which I would like to explore with a newborn heart,
I groped for the roughness of cultivating without a poetic flavor.
Then, I got lost in the fantasy world of images.
How profound and vast was the kingdom of poetry!
The essence of creation of poetry
Was like a snake meandering forward,
Arduously,
Over the images of high mountains and gravels,
Over the barren swamps of words,
And in the blanks of a manuscript.
In my mind, the words came out in a repeatedly flipping manner,
In phrases and sentences in the blanks.
The brain nerves were excited and agitated.
I dreamed of riding a kite floating towards the clouds.
I found that the sky was full of poetry.
The words were squeezed and beaten by
The poet over and over again.
The poetry resonated with the rhythm and melody of the universe.
It exuded charm in the dance of words.
With a pen, the poet had written much about love and loneliness.
With a pen, he had written poems about joy and vicissitudes.
