Taiwan

Ideogram brushed into the sea,
Whale’s tongue tuned to a dark wave;
Haven of the disaffected,the persecuted,
Mandarins,pirates,traders and adventurers,
Farmers and fishermen from China’s shore-
Sane men born to hunt the unicorn.

Mountains of waterdrops balance on my shoulders,
And full-moon-rivers riddle down to fingertips,
Typhoons hurtle across my invented ocean
In the season of drowned dogs.
Self’s weathers,cracks in the tortoiseshell!

This is my life,a pot of ashes
Filled with the ancestors’ breath,their voices,
And my breaking shall be my mending
If the gods so wish.

The lover’s hand and the calligrapher’s brush
Are equal in finesse;
Caressing form,they embrace emptiness.

The opera actress sits before the mirror,
Painting her face with the colours
Of the virtuous and resourceful.
Soon she will wrap the world in her sleeve,
And mime its emotions.

Before dawn an old man stands
In the park,dancing tai chi,
His arms arching slowly upward
In a giant circle,
Splitting the cosmos into yin and yang,
He moves hips,spine and limbs
In unison,breathing from the abdomen,
Absorbing the yang force
At its height.

Out from his cage the cobra is yanked
And skinned alive,
The fresh carcass writhing on a hook
As blood and meat
Are stirred into soup,
And men down cups of its bile
To fortify eyes,spines and cocks.


On Lion’s Head Mountain,
The path leads up and round
And in the stellar mane
On the Moon-Gazing Pavilion,
Any human Buddha can walk
Out into the cloud
And sup the mist-milk
To live forever.

Through the moon gates
Of my mind I climb
The twin pagodas
On Lotus Lake;
Entering by the dragon’s throat
I exit by the lion’s,
Transforming ill auspices
Into good fortune.

Bamboo girl,
Dancer on the edge of dawn,
A red envelope of kisses
For your soul’s New Year!