In & Out

Tomb-sweeping Day

 

Closure iron fences and barbed wires
Altogether barred every possible ways
To pay sacrifices and respect to Sires
In tombs out there on the pine hillside
Traditions observed for  millennia
Filial duty to pious Ancestral worship
All stopped by an official prohibition
In prevention  of  spring forest fires

What about the paid national holiday 
Specially set off for tomb-sweep visiting
People used to burn incense at ancestral shrine
Nonstop, for blessing for posterity
And now what? The old saying goes
Broken incense means broken family line

 

郎骑竹马来

 

Lovers turn around at the fence wistfully

Though the wild flowers out there are so lusty

Gentlemen walk along as if on defense

To peep over fences is unsaintly offence

Many a stroller pause to sigh and complain

“what an enchanting wood out there, in vain!”

“No trespassing!” signboard shouts, “Forbidden!”

As if the outer hills exclusive Garden of Eden

Then out of nowhere comes a pauper boy

Riding a bamboo stick for his horse toy

At some whim he stops short, as if wooed

Dropping his horse to squeeze trough it

In no time he is out there, picking berries

And plums and flowers, to his heart’s content

 

Fences keep in the decent

And let out the innocent

 

Habitat chartered

 

The public lawn in front of the apartments

Is soon divided into patches of segments

That are made the best use by the hosts

A square of lettuce, two rows of leek

String beans on racks, fences of grape vine

Loofah  apes beard crawl along laundry line

Fig trees have grown into canopy

Under which sit unseen old man or dame

Watching out their shrine

Whenever I pass by I got a defensive stare

But the fruits and flowers are so entice

I cannot go by without a desirous notice

As if a saint that never look sideways

My eye would eat the flowers and fruits

My senses drink in the fragrance

My heart lamenting on the common land

Now have turned to possessive hand

Years ago this place was a a field of wheat

And before that a wilderness free for weeds

Who knows what years later it will be

The habitat, the private gardens, or you or me

 

Our planet is mainly of the Main

That dotes the continents and isles

As the blue floats clouds and rain

But coasts every where miles and miles

Are enclosed by customs and guarded

As every hill and rill is wired and barricaded

Even this beach we  every day pace

Is soon to be barred and charged

This once free orb is all chartered

That may be why we seek outer space

When did all this encampment commence

God did not create walls nor any fence

People fence people in

As if they keep the seas out