(my first English poem-hand script) 2020 Jan

“This poet,” one of the judges in front of me remarked, “intertwines profound philosophical thoughts and strong emotions, touching our very souls.” Me-a poet? Any lingering self-doubt was finally shaken away. As the only participant from the ESL class, I’d jumped at the opportunity when my English teacher announced the last open spot in the poetry competition. Since then, I’ve embarked on a journey of literary exploration.

4 years ago, I sought guidance from my English teachers and great poets in history. Ms. Cutts and Mr. Liu gave me crucial advice on the precision in wording and uses of rhetorical devices. Meanwhile, I read voraciously, from Shakespeare’s sonnets to T.S. Eliot’s modernist poetry. I found a muse in Wilfred Owen, one of Britain’s greatest war poets. Reading his satirical poem, “Dulce Et Decorum Est,” I absorbed Owen’s emotions about adversity. I then channeled my feelings towards and vivid imagery of death into words. Imagining a feeling of salvation, I wrote “Life is a return, still, death is Sauvignon Blanc,” symbolizing death’s duality and transformation. This poem won me first place in the Wellington College Poetry Festival.

Once, I was bothered by my sensitivity. My wandering thoughts about life, happiness, and end-goals were sometimes judged as impractical by others. However, after reading masterpieces, I embrace my thoughts as integral aspects of my identity, fueling my creativity in crafting poems. It seems that my sensitivity, once considered a potential weakness, could become the sharp edge of a discerning sword, propelling me forward.

My poetry collection in 3 Languages I speak

Dream

Waking up within the grimes when I was stroked by nightmares, maim’d.

Staining down within the tender nights that I was spurned, unknown

Yet all-known, oblivion, and even neglecting that I am alone.

Melancholy! I must admit its omnipresence in the din rain and the dingy mind

Within my psyche and my numb hand, unwind’

Since I was born within the dream with obscure among

And mix’d with it; blend’ with it; immersed with it; with dim dimness dims along,

So I shall be dying to pursue these drowned dreams deeply into the dark pond.

Then I was choked. The brief charms in my sight last’d as a glance before the eternal yearning

Whence I sigh, whence I die, whence I realize the dawn of my dreams’ disappeared,

But I was tired of being kept alive! I was fatigued to trace my craving and longing.

I’d missed myself, restrain’d, control’d as if I was still dreaming

These blank dreams wholeheartedly within the sweety sweaty swamp.

Forgive me, forbid me, but don’t forget me in our transient dreams.

Dream is transient yet tells a meaningful story. I woke up one midnight with night sweat and ephemeral anxiety that came from nowhere. I was ""drowning", and an inexplicable fear thus arose. The nightmare is so resonating because I dreamt of my childhood trauma. I created this sonnet in February 2024 not only to describe what I felt and gave account to my capricious mood but also let myself remember the melancholic memory.

Oscuridad

Nací entre los bosques del alma, susurrando al sol,

como alguien con su corazón en paz, sin prisa.

Siento el viento que acaricia mi rostro de lava,

como una perla que brilla entre las estrellas.

No estaba perdido, sino rodeado por el

oscuridad que nunca antes había florecido.

Vivo entre los lagos de fuego, susurrando al paso,

como alguien con su peso en paz, parpadeando sin prisa.

Siento el mar que acaricia mis ojos de lluvias brillantes,

como una bola que cae entre los mares del agua.

No estaba perdido, sino rodeado por los

segundos que nunca antes se habían juntado.

This is the first poem I wrote independently in Spanish!! I wrote it at 8:43 PM Oct 20th 2024! I never knew I was that capable in poetry in Spanish! This poem is not only a writing but a door for me to create more poems in Spanish in the future. I brought similar tones and nuanced extended metaphors in Spanish to allude my own life's meandering path that was unique and intriguing.

如果你要写念

就不能只写念

要写夜色中人声鼎沸的闹市

写万家的灯火阑珊 人云亦云

将冷清的月光变得熠熠生辉

写在对巷大门紧闭的客舍

午夜的寂寥 慈母的啜泣

写盼望游子归来的头涔涔与泪潸潸

迷茫中忐忑 踌躇中徘徊

如果你要写念

就不能只写念

要写大门前残缺不全的对联

写母亲的丝丝银发 暗淡无光

点缀着那整洁却空荡的卧室

写在餐桌上褪色的照片

摇曳的灯光 寒冷的陋室

写困在回忆里的老人

未知中祈祷 凝视中落泪

这首诗以反复的句式“如果你要写念，就不能只写念”贯穿全文，强调了表达“念”这一情感时，不能仅停留在表面的字词，而是需要通过具体的场景和细节来传达深层次的情感。

On seeing myself

My grit is too weak—ordeals

Piercing sharply through the impervious screen like impending grisailles

And traversing where my misery groans

Of lopsided fate whispers I must die

Like an elder nearing his finale

Whilst unsure of his very afterlife.

Yet ’tis a grievous gift to lend

That I grew up with such a reluctance

And seeds of unquenched dreams to disperse

That’re too stubborn to be dubious

Of the doubting faith, the impenetrable destiny

That’ll manifest like pages unfold

On the labyrinthine, grimy way home.

But God witnessed my grit

That’s too weak to combat these pains deeply etched;

So do this gloss of grace

That gathers Grecian grandeur with Lore, Doctrine, yet mingled Scars,

Endowing my dim path towards eternity—

where the seeds shall be sowed amidst the stars—

Every star, a universe unto itself.

This hill of happiness

The little hill of happiness, in my sight and far it stretched

But impossible to conquer, my little hill – far it’s fetched

Whilst I raised my eyes, seeing me in far before,

Standing on the edge of cliff, on the zenith, on the shore

With him whose valiance deeply root

And boiling blood beyond his foot…

Stumbling tempos, with face where sorrow deeply hid,

With eyes of pouring tears, the sudden burst

Yet his breath shall never end.

I saw his glimmer in thy sights, like needle tips that ground with sound

With bittersweet, slowly I went, but cringed in going far beyond.

The little poison of happiness, I shall take the dose,

And immerse with moments that unfolds

But forgot of the vernal grief it still unloads;

The little seeds of happiness, ripen amongst the dew and western breeze

But winded with reluctance, seed with the farthest distance for daws to pack at.

I’ll never pass through the cringy hill; I’ll never traverse the sea on sail,

Perhaps, I shall spread the seed in feet of hill;

I shall plant a tree of hearts that fill

And wait for daffodils, accompanied by my happy soul,

Bringing fruits to every boat –

Beating off the chain of hope –

Blasting through the pain that broke–

Biding for replies from the coasts…

to

The little hill of happiness

Happiness, an abstract term that does not have a definite origin, meaning, and explanation, is somewhat farther and farther away from the current people and society. After 2 books of reading from my Harvard Summer School program, I realized that happiness is not farfetched but instead requires determination and the passage of time to brew up. Thus, I created this poem to emphasize the pursuit of happiness, even under stress and impressment.

Tiempo

Mi tiempo, perdido entre la mezcla de aire, leyendo sobre mi tarea de crecer.
Mi niñez, devuelta por sus ambiciones de felicidad, y la situación, llena de dicha en un rincón,
llegaba a mi mente entre aguas de misterio.
En cada amanecer renace la esperanza, de que el tiempo escucharía mi ferviente ruego...

The poem reflects on the themes of time, memory, growth, and hope, capturing a personal and contemplative journey through these abstract concepts.

小山

希望像是一座小小的山，

在我面前缓缓延绵， 却难以迂越。

抬头望去， 只能看见曾经站在山顶上无畏的少年， 与他满腔的青春热血；

从未泯灭的气息， 跌跌撞撞的步伐 眼含热泪的脸庞，

------他的双目犀利似银针 而站在山脚下仰望的我 怀着辛酸 移步而去 却又不敢走远。

希望像是一瓶慢性的毒药， 而我却一饮而下。 沉溺着先前的幻象， 却忘记了长久的惆怅；

思念像是一把干涩的果实， 被不舍包裹 种子是距离。

或许我永远无法翻越群山， 或许我永远无法渡过长河， 或许我应在山脚下撒一把种子， 栽一棵树，

等至来年慢慢生根发芽， 与风作伴。

将果实带到天涯海角，

挣脱思念的枷锁， 打破距离的隔阂，

等待对岸的回信。

Happiness, an abstract term that does not have a definite origin, meaning, and explanation, is somewhat farther and farther away from the current people and society. After 2 books of reading from my Harvard Summer School program, I realized that happiness is not farfetched but instead requires determination and the passage of time to brew up. Thus, I created this poem to emphasize the pursuit of happiness, even under stress and impressment.

Heart of Sea

The calming breeze will gently flow, in my distant coast

Where nothing but the glimmer of faint glower has stayed –

And me, embracing the blows, with heart settled, ready for my voyage.

The dim blue sky, joyous paradise, there upon my dampened brows-

I shall embrace with myself, my heart of sea, to paint my sky blue…

The hailing sky here slowly rose, my heart of sea-

Yet I can still see it not, desperately, the barren land

With zest, zeal, agitation, frenzied,

I shall wait

For seeing my ambiguous hope comes true.

So here I stay and rise, like reeds that sprout from stingy pools.

Here I rise.

Ambitiously,

I rise.

"The hectic days should quickly shade"

For my heart of sea, for the hopeful dawn it shapes, for my heart that'll never fade.

"The hectic days should quickly shade...

The freezing night has softly sept, my heart of sea-

Yet I can still touch it not, untimely, the greenish trees

With hope, trust, and belief, determined,

I shall wait, ultimately, wait for eras, epochs, eons, Evers

For the blissful joy you would give.

The violent storm still brutally scrapes, in the distant coast

Where nothing but the pouring rage of rain has swayed –

And whom, crunching the brags, with heart burnt, ready for the voyage?

The cold hard squall, dim long end, there upon the ashen brows.

Who shall fight for the self, the heart of sea, to tear the sky blue?

It's me.

It's my heart of sea.

A zealous crew intends to sail across the far-stretching sea, but soon after his journey he is disheartened by the rising storms. Finally, he reminds himself his purpose and kept sailing across the daunting sea.

Bid Farewell

For gold and glamours I’ve no delight

For knowing I’ll die before the night

For death. For anything but life.

Dark, dirt, dimness, surrounding in my sight

With nothing but the death’s scythe

Alight.

For black and blank I’ve no such fright

For knowing I’m alive late in the night

For life. For anything but death.

Dark, dirt, dimness, surrounding in my sight

With nothing but the lively light

Alight

Since we were born for death, not for life.

Heaven brought us upright and

Keen to let us thrive

And earth, embrac’d our demise

Round and round in our psych’

Embark’d our sky of light,

Not with air but with flesh burning bright.

I crav’d, a praying of might

Futile, fulfilled,

Loathing in my youth and spine,

O, but it guides me through perpetual plights.

Yet I know that death’n

Umbrage shall ne’er end your breath.

Bid farewell, the tears in our eyes,

And your vasts, thy charms, our waving cries,

Their chants, my vows, his oaths, her zests

Symboliz’d your rebirth, your new lives

So we charish’d, and we cheer’d, zeal surg’d high.

And your old life, consummate,

shall be fill’d with HIs and Goodbyes.

Written during my palliative care program in April 2024, the poem expresses grief for those who lost their life due to chronic deseases and sudden accidents in the hospice. This poem encourages people to embrace life and death and rather treat death as a new start. Instead of grieving and mourning for those we've lost, in which we should, we could celebrate their existence and contributions to our lives, singing a hymn for their very breath.