Squabbling annoyingly
outside the door the trees, never growing tall
also unidentified
are by twos and threes
like a group, an organization.
The wind passing by
they begin squabbling indeed annoyingly.
Probably they are talking about the color of the wind,
the existence of the wind, the weight of the wind,
and everything of the wind.
While a gust of wind penetrating through them
none of them holds the wind in hand.
This wouldn't count most.
It is the sort of unspeakable might
which has them so blown backward and forward
that you couldn't even see any bit
of their attribute
capable of becoming upright trees.
(tr. by R.S. Chen)
The Well
Come and go the maidens
Who cast me long, long ropes,
Yet not to fathom me.
Brimful they fill their copper vase
And leave me empty and disturbed
Deeply, imperceptibly.
Eager am I to receive a flower
From their locks, a half-formed smile
Or a backward glimpse.
Yet they say it's too profound
And a little cold, and also
They have a 'petite' superstition.
Hsiang Ming is the pen name of Tung P'ing. Born in 1928 in Changsha, Hunan Province, he has lived on Taiwan since 1949. He is a member of the Blue Star Poetry Society and chief editor of the Blue Star Poetry Quarterly. His published collections of poetry include Letters on Rainy Days, Beacon of Vigilance, The Face of Youth, Reminiscence of Water, and Hsiang Ming's Anthology. He has also published two collections of fairy tales, The Candy Tree and The Fragrant Pocket. Poems of his have been translated into English, French, German, Japanese, and Dutch.
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Hsiang Ming
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