Girl’s Sadness for Spring
By Poet: Mr. Zhu Jiang (Tang Dynasty)
Translated by Laijon Liu
Sitting alone by the curtained window,
A girl is slowly sewing her embroidery.
Outside, under the purple flower bush,
The orioles are singing their love song.
How shall one know about her mood,
Her endless sadness at this springtime?
It’s in the lengthy halt of her fingers,
And by her silence that tells no word.
Chinese
春女怨
唐五代• 朱绛
独坐纱窗刺绣迟，
紫荆花下啭黄鹂。
欲知无限伤春意，
尽在停针不语时。
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Writing Alone while Drunk
Writing Alone while Drunk
By Laijon Liu (2008.04.15)
The noise of day fades and lonely night arrives,
I drink and write alone with fatigue and distress.
The blank sheet is pale and my ball pen is mute,
And three of us sit there and have nothing to say.
The vast empty pallid page gives me no fairytale,
And my ball headed pen is dull without a thought.
But they are my only hope after I am fully drunk,
For the time of my unspeakable pain I must write.
So I beg my poor soul and the blank page answers,
I cry with my penniless pen and he drops his tears.
While I’m drunk that we are still very true friends,
When grief gushes out my mind we all fall to sleep.
I wish our unhindered affections never be blocked,
And one day we can tell as one -forever published:-)
Note:
Does this poem sound familiar?
Li Po would laugh and nod his poetic drunken head:-)
But I know he is not going to suit me in poetry supreme court,
Coz I could not get in there yet:-)
“Only greatest poets allowed!”
But I am truly inspired by Mr. Li Po’s poem:
“Drinking Alone By Moonlight” (Read Following)
And try to copy his style very very closely:-)
This poem is for Mr. Li Po
And my paper and pen,
And surely his wine and my beer,
How I spend my every night alone with them!
“Toast and write, and toast to write!”
酒后成章
日寂孤夜落,
独醉书忧乏.
雪纸无落笔,
齐凑也三人.
张白无典故,
钝笔哑且呆.
借伴纸与笔,
听吾诉忠肠.
哀灵倾纸诉,
贱墨泪成行.
醉时同怜慰,
愁消倒昏床.
暂伴无志旅,
同声共短长.
因醉思李白,月下獨酌后,是而酒后成章.
如我小学初中老师看了这篇,会很骄傲的;
过去全校点名,现在全国丢丑或增光:-)
Copyright© Laijon Liu 2008
Drinking Alone by Moonlight
Li Po / Li Bai
Translated by Laijon Liu
A pot of wine in the flower bush,
I drink alone without a friend.
Raise my cup to invite the bright moon,
And greet to my shadow for we’re three friends.
But the moon does not know about drinking,
And my shadow remains still, unmoved.
The moon and my shadow ’re my temporal companions,
Still we must enjoy each other for this springtime.
So I sing, then the moon starts to wander,
I dance, and my shadow disorderly scatters.
We enjoy each other while we are awake,
And depart to each own way after drunk.
Let our unbound affection forever abide,
And one day we may truly meet in the far misty heavens.
Arthur Waley’s Translation
花間一壺酒。 A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;
獨酌無相親。 I drink alone, for no friend is near.
舉杯邀明月。 Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,
對影成三人。 For her, with my shadow, will make three men.
月既不解飲。 The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine;
影徒隨我身。 Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side.
暫伴月將影。 Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slave
行樂須及春。 I must make merry before the Spring is spent.
我歌月徘徊。 To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams;
我舞影零亂。 In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks.
醒時同交歡。 While we were sober, three shared the fun;
醉後各分散。 Now we are drunk, each goes his way.
永結無情遊。 May we long share our odd, inanimate feast,
相期邈雲漢。 And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky.
By Laijon Liu (2008.04.15)
The noise of day fades and lonely night arrives,
I drink and write alone with fatigue and distress.
The blank sheet is pale and my ball pen is mute,
And three of us sit there and have nothing to say.
The vast empty pallid page gives me no fairytale,
And my ball headed pen is dull without a thought.
But they are my only hope after I am fully drunk,
For the time of my unspeakable pain I must write.
So I beg my poor soul and the blank page answers,
I cry with my penniless pen and he drops his tears.
While I’m drunk that we are still very true friends,
When grief gushes out my mind we all fall to sleep.
I wish our unhindered affections never be blocked,
And one day we can tell as one -forever published:-)
Note:
Does this poem sound familiar?
Li Po would laugh and nod his poetic drunken head:-)
But I know he is not going to suit me in poetry supreme court,
Coz I could not get in there yet:-)
“Only greatest poets allowed!”
But I am truly inspired by Mr. Li Po’s poem:
“Drinking Alone By Moonlight” (Read Following)
And try to copy his style very very closely:-)
This poem is for Mr. Li Po
And my paper and pen,
And surely his wine and my beer,
How I spend my every night alone with them!
“Toast and write, and toast to write!”
酒后成章
日寂孤夜落,
独醉书忧乏.
雪纸无落笔,
齐凑也三人.
张白无典故,
钝笔哑且呆.
借伴纸与笔,
听吾诉忠肠.
哀灵倾纸诉,
贱墨泪成行.
醉时同怜慰,
愁消倒昏床.
暂伴无志旅,
同声共短长.
因醉思李白,月下獨酌后,是而酒后成章.
如我小学初中老师看了这篇,会很骄傲的;
过去全校点名,现在全国丢丑或增光:-)
Copyright© Laijon Liu 2008
Drinking Alone by Moonlight
Li Po / Li Bai
Translated by Laijon Liu
A pot of wine in the flower bush,
I drink alone without a friend.
Raise my cup to invite the bright moon,
And greet to my shadow for we’re three friends.
But the moon does not know about drinking,
And my shadow remains still, unmoved.
The moon and my shadow ’re my temporal companions,
Still we must enjoy each other for this springtime.
So I sing, then the moon starts to wander,
I dance, and my shadow disorderly scatters.
We enjoy each other while we are awake,
And depart to each own way after drunk.
Let our unbound affection forever abide,
And one day we may truly meet in the far misty heavens.
Arthur Waley’s Translation
花間一壺酒。 A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;
獨酌無相親。 I drink alone, for no friend is near.
舉杯邀明月。 Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,
對影成三人。 For her, with my shadow, will make three men.
月既不解飲。 The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine;
影徒隨我身。 Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side.
暫伴月將影。 Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slave
行樂須及春。 I must make merry before the Spring is spent.
我歌月徘徊。 To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams;
我舞影零亂。 In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks.
醒時同交歡。 While we were sober, three shared the fun;
醉後各分散。 Now we are drunk, each goes his way.
永結無情遊。 May we long share our odd, inanimate feast,
相期邈雲漢。 And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Watching the Moon and Miss You from Far 望月懷遠
Watching the Moon and Miss You from Far
By Tang Poet: Zhang Jiu Ling
Translated by Laijon Liu
The bright moon arises above the sea,
Heavens apart we share the same time.
Lovers grieve for the night is too long,
And the dusk strikes our lovesickness.
Put out the candlelight for it’s too bright,
Put on cloth, but still feel dewy wetness.
How shall I send you the moonlit dew?
I better sleep to dream for our good date.
Chinese:
望月懷遠
张九龄
海上生明月
天涯共此時
情人怨遙夜
竟夕起相思
滅燭憐光滿
披衣覺露滋
不堪盈手贈
還寢夢佳期
By Tang Poet: Zhang Jiu Ling
Translated by Laijon Liu
The bright moon arises above the sea,
Heavens apart we share the same time.
Lovers grieve for the night is too long,
And the dusk strikes our lovesickness.
Put out the candlelight for it’s too bright,
Put on cloth, but still feel dewy wetness.
How shall I send you the moonlit dew?
I better sleep to dream for our good date.
Chinese:
望月懷遠
张九龄
海上生明月
天涯共此時
情人怨遙夜
竟夕起相思
滅燭憐光滿
披衣覺露滋
不堪盈手贈
還寢夢佳期
Drinking Alone by Moonlight 月下獨酌
Drinking Alone by Moonlight 月下獨酌
By Tang Poet: Mr. Li Po / Li Bai
Translated by Laijon Liu
A pot of wine in the flower bush,
I drink alone without a friend.
I raise my cup to invite the bright moon,
And greet to my shadow for we’re three friends.
But the moon does not know how to drink,
And my shadow remains still, unmoved.
The moon and my shadow ’re my temporal companions,
But still we must enjoy each other for this springtime.
So I sing, then the moon starts to wander,
I dance, and my shadow disorderly scatters.
We enjoy each other while we are awake,
And depart to each own way after drunk.
Let our unbound affection forever abides,
And one day we may truly meet in the far misty heavens.
Haiku Style Translation:
Among the flowery bush,
A pot of wine,
I drink alone without a friend.
I raise my cup to invite the moon,
And toast to my shadow,
For we are three friends.
But the moon does not drink wine,
And my shadow
Just follows me in vain.
Oh, my temporal friends:
The moon and my shadow,
We must make joys before the spring ends.
So I sing my songs,
The moon starts to wander;
And I dance, my shadow disorderly swings.
For we are awake,
We share our bliss,
But after drunk, we go separate way.
May we forever abide
Thru this unaffected relation,
Till the day we meet in the Milky Way.
Note:
This is poem that in the lonely state of the poet,
who is sitting in his party that no one attend.
The moon does not know how to drink,
as his emperor who knows not the poet's wine,
so he could only walk and sing as if the moon wanders,
and dance to make his shadow to follow,
yet it just disorderly scatters.
For affection only comes from the poet
towards the moon and his shadow,
but still they do not communicate with the poet.
And poet realizes that when they are awake,
they enjoy and understand each other;
yet when they are after drunk,
they just depart on each own way.
Even though they have unaffected relation,
Still the poet wants it to be forever,
until they could truly meet in the far vast heavens.
Many people love this poem and I do, but this poem could be literally attractive to anyone, but there is a deep meaning beneath all the characters, Li Bai/Li Po, was respected by his Emperor only as a poet, and he was never entrusted with any court matters, as Li Bai himself always wanted to achieve good works for the nation and people, however not many peoples understood his true ambitions and knew his ability, that created his life view of drinking alone, and he was very confident self view, so he toasted his cup to moon, and danced, his shadow scattered might be reflected on the surface of water, and the last line could also be read a poetic death of the poet, only thru this, the distance between the poet and moon could be made away.
Arthur Waley’s Translation
花間一壺酒。 A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;
獨酌無相親。 I drink alone, for no friend is near.
舉杯邀明月。 Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,
對影成三人。 For her, with my shadow, will make three men.
月既不解飲。 The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine;
影徒隨我身。 Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side.
暫伴月將影。 Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slave
行樂須及春。 I must make merry before the Spring is spent.
我歌月徘徊。 To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams;
我舞影零亂。 In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks.
醒時同交歡。 While we were sober, three shared the fun;
醉後各分散。 Now we are drunk, each goes his way.
永結無情遊。 May we long share our odd, inanimate feast,
相期邈雲漢。 And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky.
By Tang Poet: Mr. Li Po / Li Bai
Translated by Laijon Liu
A pot of wine in the flower bush,
I drink alone without a friend.
I raise my cup to invite the bright moon,
And greet to my shadow for we’re three friends.
But the moon does not know how to drink,
And my shadow remains still, unmoved.
The moon and my shadow ’re my temporal companions,
But still we must enjoy each other for this springtime.
So I sing, then the moon starts to wander,
I dance, and my shadow disorderly scatters.
We enjoy each other while we are awake,
And depart to each own way after drunk.
Let our unbound affection forever abides,
And one day we may truly meet in the far misty heavens.
Haiku Style Translation:
Among the flowery bush,
A pot of wine,
I drink alone without a friend.
I raise my cup to invite the moon,
And toast to my shadow,
For we are three friends.
But the moon does not drink wine,
And my shadow
Just follows me in vain.
Oh, my temporal friends:
The moon and my shadow,
We must make joys before the spring ends.
So I sing my songs,
The moon starts to wander;
And I dance, my shadow disorderly swings.
For we are awake,
We share our bliss,
But after drunk, we go separate way.
May we forever abide
Thru this unaffected relation,
Till the day we meet in the Milky Way.
Note:
This is poem that in the lonely state of the poet,
who is sitting in his party that no one attend.
The moon does not know how to drink,
as his emperor who knows not the poet's wine,
so he could only walk and sing as if the moon wanders,
and dance to make his shadow to follow,
yet it just disorderly scatters.
For affection only comes from the poet
towards the moon and his shadow,
but still they do not communicate with the poet.
And poet realizes that when they are awake,
they enjoy and understand each other;
yet when they are after drunk,
they just depart on each own way.
Even though they have unaffected relation,
Still the poet wants it to be forever,
until they could truly meet in the far vast heavens.
Many people love this poem and I do, but this poem could be literally attractive to anyone, but there is a deep meaning beneath all the characters, Li Bai/Li Po, was respected by his Emperor only as a poet, and he was never entrusted with any court matters, as Li Bai himself always wanted to achieve good works for the nation and people, however not many peoples understood his true ambitions and knew his ability, that created his life view of drinking alone, and he was very confident self view, so he toasted his cup to moon, and danced, his shadow scattered might be reflected on the surface of water, and the last line could also be read a poetic death of the poet, only thru this, the distance between the poet and moon could be made away.
Drinking Alone by Moonlight 月下獨酌
By Tang Poet: Mr. Li Po / Li Bai
Translated by Laijon Liu (2nd Version)
花間一壺酒。 A pot of wine, under the flower bush;
獨酌無相親。 I drank alone without a friend.
舉杯邀明月。 Raised my cup to toast the bright moon,
對影成三人。 And greeted my shadow for we were three friends.
月既不解飲。 But the moon did not drink my wine;
影徒隨我身。 And my shadow followed me in vain.
暫伴月將影。 For my temporal company, the moon and my shadow,
行樂須及春。 We must share our happiness for this springtime.
我歌月徘徊。 So I sang, then the moon started to wander,
我舞影零亂。 I danced, and my shadow wildly swung.
醒時同交歡。 While we were awake, we shared the fun;
醉後各分散。 After we were drunk, each left to his way.
永結無情遊。 May our unaffected affection forever journeys,
相期邈雲漢。 Until we meet in the vast cloudy Milky Way.
Arthur Waley’s Translation
花間一壺酒。 A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;
獨酌無相親。 I drink alone, for no friend is near.
舉杯邀明月。 Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,
對影成三人。 For her, with my shadow, will make three men.
月既不解飲。 The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine;
影徒隨我身。 Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side.
暫伴月將影。 Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slave
行樂須及春。 I must make merry before the Spring is spent.
我歌月徘徊。 To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams;
我舞影零亂。 In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks.
醒時同交歡。 While we were sober, three shared the fun;
醉後各分散。 Now we are drunk, each goes his way.
永結無情遊。 May we long share our odd, inanimate feast,
相期邈雲漢。 And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Feeling for the Candlelit
Feeling for the Candlelit
By Laijon Liu (2008.04.14)
Last night, pouring rain shook blossom’s soul,
And the gushing west wind put out candlelight,
Shocking thunders and the rocks as waves past,
But after dawn rose, sun shines his warm spring.
Chinese:
荧熄有感
昨夜骤雨簌花魂,
西风狂啸烁荧熄,
震雷石雨惊涛过,
晓升阳暖日如春.
这首是为国人所作,也是为奥运圣火所作.凡美好的被熄灭了,也会复燃,星火不但燎原,更是阳光普照大地,直至永恒.如国人对和平和友誼的追求,从清末至今,经历鸦片炮舰,血雨腥风,直至石头呐喊...但我们从未退缩,因为他们不是我们的耻辱,而是骄傲,更是我们的洗礼,我们从风暴中走来..他们将圣火熄灭,我们将圣火点燃..
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
I Dream A Greatest Living Show - Laijon Liu
I Dream a Greatest Living Show (Revised 20090402)
By Laijon Liu (2008.04.08)
- The Start Is Play -
On green earth in the dark universe,
What is the greatest living show?
There people find their true home,
and in sweetest dream they roam.
When sinful wars poke all the holes,
but their game points a better road;
to their sorrow days and lost hope,
they still can sing a rhymed prose.
From the presence to ancient old,
I swear we never lose our true goal;
Even the night rains strike with cold,
But dawn gonna come in color of rose.
Coz I see petal fly and sticker snow,
from my screen to the front rows.
There the stars fall in heavenly glow
to sing an intro for my heroes’ show.
'No more sorrows' they sing, 'behold.
the world gonna become one big hood.'
The camera flash for their perfect pose,
And their peaceful hand heals broken soul.
The whistle of commander for ref to blow,
it’s made for games and not for gun smoke.
My hot babes and my sweet maids
I cannot refrain myself not to gaze.
For their pure face and glamour shape
Shine ten thousand splendors to amaze.
They are the sunshine of my days,
And night rose of my secret space,
Brings me blue sky and good odors,
that the world is not a shitty place.
They stretch their beautiful feet,
Swing their shining sharpen cleats,
so all the cockroaches on my screen
are swept away, off the wicked games.
They work hard on the green pitch,
and always play under fair light,
even dive and foul in an honest name:
The chasing of their dream is true fame.
And peace filled their graceful heart;
Perfect shorts wrapped their sexy butt.
As butterflies they dance here n there,
Like doves they circle a ring of light.
They come in kicking and screaming,
playing with guts n breaking the balls,
composing all the greatest dramas that
even Shakespeare never saw!
Greek heroes of the present day
surely broke Achilles' feeble heel.
Odysseus always had strong arms,
But hey! Look at his weak legs.
Homer sold his Helen’s fair look,
but I do lust for Divas on the stand.
Sun Zi wrote Art of War, for war?!
Oh, No! I believe it is just for game.
And game wheels in movement of life,
as sprinting river clashing waves to the ocean.
People climb high to reach the peak,
but water streams low as art of my poem.
Generations in current from past to future,
Rolling and waving, pushing and pulling,
As songs and dance shift in tones and steps,
All kinds of fashions, old n new, switching trends,
But our passion for it forever runs.
Days and nights I stare at my TV screen,
Hope all channels show any team’s news.
According to result I drink beer or tears;
but if any rats or flies or cockroach wins,
I’d spit and blow a tooting fart: “what a damn scheme!”
Yeah, I should quit those; coz gals hate them.
But my fields are invaded by the true aliens,
who show me their phony cards and tell me to play or not.
And the damn cockroaches sharing my meal
Before my lifetime potato feast is over;
Freaking flies soaring high in the ceiling
and drop their filthy eggs all over my bed;
And vicious rats sharpening their teeth,
Chewing my precious peanuts as concerto;
And I look toward my dream field and know:
Before the night is over, my heroes gonna win.
Even though the flies set up the fireworks
To make the skies to illume as a short day;
The cockroaches consume all the markets,
Marching in with an overwhelmed number;
The rats of the world drain my only oil jar,
And they dare to kill anyone without blinking an eye;
But I know their works are dust and smoke,
Once my players step in the field, then all dirt are dispersed.
So all my players are my heroes and stars
And defending my crappy poetry space-
Where Beauty shines and Hope glows
There my dream rows and heart goes
As the ball rolls that my desire flows
There the gods feed me their shows
In the company of the musical odes;
They chase n woo and fighting my foes!
Their gentle touch n clever play,
and buildup ways make me daze.
Their teasing moves never delay,
Tricked the world into fancy gate.
One and Two they call it Wall Play,
Bring out woohs n aahs in any day.
They patiently wait, as time won’t pay,
but I can’t hold n yell “Come on! Ain’t got all day!”
Yeah, what a game! It’s never a shame.
90 minutes length; never 2 minutes fame.
Guys strive for competition;
Gals always require communication,
but I say, 'Forget about connection,
Just shoot to the goal with passion.
If anyone asks for an explanation,
just tell that we were caught by emotion and lost in sensation.'
Players stand and start in formation,
their thoughts of plans are deep as ocean,
And cleansed by their rousing sweat lotion
to push our earth to a perfect spinning motion.
What an inspiration to the world in depression,
when all of us stumble in confusion n frustration,
and struggle to get out of the freaking desperation,
there they deliver our satisfaction -another resurrection.
And I know resurrection is after death,
and death is after life, and life begins by birth.
Confucius said: “Why one asks about death,
when he does not grasp the meaning of life?”
And Jesus said: “If anyone wants to gain life,
then he must die first, to receive his true life.”
But why I mention this topic in my paragraph,
maybe I just wanna show I know something, or add on more words.
But let me offer another way for explaining:
The ending of game is after its beginning,
And the game must end for a new starting,
And in it, whatever we are experiencing
Is just eternal struggling in a flashing;
And in the end, nothing remains its glowing,
Nor greatest ranking, nor highest scoring,
If there are really anything, then I'd say playing, drinking n snoring.
But wait, in the game what a suffering for playing!
Physical, I called it aching, like a nail pulling;
Spiritual, I called it battling, like a bad dating.
But these two are always coming with smiling.
And we can do nothing but to skip and running.
When the physical pain comes with knocking,
the spiritual wound is wrapped and covered,
once our body healed, then spiritual torment revealed.
Pills for cold, surgery for bone fracture,
but what’s the treatment for missing shots?
Chocolate for girls, sorry notes for wife,
But how can we run away from our Own Goal?
Fill up the cups, drink up the whole bottle,
But before we awake, sorrow returns with a stick.
When the body melts, shatters into dust,
our spirit lingers, roams solo as a cursed ghost.
Yeah, no one is sadder than a lonely soul;
as a solo player tries to fit in the team,
plays an unfamiliar game thru an unusual frame:
Communications for a single connection;
Negotiations to deal individual obsession;
and cut-throat competition for a short possession.
One must surf against all the mighty waves,
to find himself and others thru endlessly searching, forever downloading and acceptable uploading.
Struggling life as striving game in a flash,
for single second glory, forever to catch.
So let’s drive it with ease and hush,
and bring no more harms or headless rush.
If it really hurts and our regretful thoughts gush,
then drink beer, shed tear, and kiss our dear.
Even night seems forever, but love never over;
Even we can’t abide together, let’s share before it’s all over.
And my heroes learn from their young age,
that practice makes all things perfect.
When they try to help family cooking,
Mom yells at them: “You need practice!”
When they miss their easy shots on pitch,
Coach roars at them: “Go Home Practice!”
When their wife teased them in the morning,
they knew they must work hard in the backyard, kitchen and bathroom.
So their nightly works in a fragrant smell
Breezes kindly in morning winds to miles,
sweetest perfume sweat- irresistible cologne-
70 bucks draws their girl fans to heaven.
Their winning cleats never washed,
Pass down good luck to generations with odor.
So let the ref blow his unfair whistle,
Coz my heroes must dance shirtless for yellow and red cards.
Their game is not only pure physical,
But it also requires some brain, or any;
Most time my heroes use their foot,
And sometimes they also throw their head,
But when their game is on the line,
That time burns to injury count,
And the goal must be achieved,
They will use anything, like their godly hand, vicious elbow and provocative saliva to get things done.
Yeah, the game is a life feast from start to end,
and in it they gather and depart by chance,
thru the taste of sour, sweet, bitter, and hot,
as four season dream they roam to awake.
Sunset and sunrise, moon wanes and wax;
our heroes come and go, rise and fall,
while our passion sings up and shouts out:
The goal of life is a forever chase, and never give-up shot.
This game of war thru peace they exchange,
As life and death exemplified by start and end.
Losing requires tear n beer, nor life, nor blood;
Winning of cup is celebrated in showering wine.
Clubs rearrange all countries and towns,
Nation against nation compete in fair plays,
only the purest concept reigns over all:
Virtuous Way, changing seasons, cultures, wits, and common laws.
No more boundaries and worldly craps,
As what we have submitted for our love:
Options of colors, race and fair looks,
Age for fit, wage for security,
Weights, heights, interests, and habits,
Certificates to speak for minds and wits;
But I long for thy cherry lips and beauty’s rose,
And my size n length to reach thy depth n width,
And my ultimate strength to fulfill thy enduring faith,
If not, then thy merciful forgiveness is my living grace.
And this is moment of my truth -my real bullshits.
My true heroes on green pitch they play;
as injurious insect in the world they beguile.
That they rip off all the crappy covers,
as the bold band of Robin Hood robs the rich for gold,
as the intoxicated outlaw of marsh fighting corruptions,
as the cowboy Jesse James rides riotously in Wild West.
And I raise up my two hands and praise their work:
May their deception in the game never ends.
Oh, deception! How could I forget about!
Wise act as April’s fool; lions speak as meek;
Vultures soar as eagles; and wolves dress as sheep;
Able does not show, giving is to receive;
Enemy is never far, and friends are never close.
Seduce their greed, rob those in chaos,
Avoid the strong, scratch the wrath,
Praise the humbles, and labor the rested,
Separate the close, strike the incautious,
and break into the house of rash head.
But let me stop plagiarizing Sun Zi’s.
Yeah, my heroes are the players that know themselves,
and before their game starts they learn their enemies.
Seasons pass, nights and days, they will never lose.
They launch in a common form and score with surprise.
Ooh, their surprises! Limitless as heavens and earth,
ceaselessly flushes as rolling river and spring water.
Their splashing waves beating the stony shores,
Chunk by chunk the rock are tossed and metal floats.
On the pitch they strike with thunder blow.
Their golden shoes are the cloudy Zeus’ bow,
Aim every wicked hole, and shoot a deadly stroke.
As hawk they soar, as tiger they stalk, as lion they roar,
in sec of flash the old foxes are trapped and choke.
My heroes wax their bow with strength,
Shoot off their silvering arrows in trice,
and beat down their enemies as a giant rock that rolls.
Their great strategy lies in a fluid form,
Changes its infinite shape as time flows;
Swift as high winds that blows, sweeping clouds;
Calm as night forest that grows, unmoving oceans;
Wild as autumn fire that razes, brimstone storms;
Firm as Himalayas that stands, everlasting tall!
They are my monkey king holds a magic staff,
smashes nine heavens and stirs four seas.
People say: “Warriors are born for war,
and they are never made for good date.”
But they are more than heroes and players;
they are lover and mate, and perfect fit.
Coz on our dear mother earth they strive
fearlessly for love, barefoot they pursue;
shamelessly for truth, strip off all their cloth,
Drunk with dreams, and intoxicated for hope.
When their magical sphere rolls and bounces,
Strangers in the world become old time intimate.
One by one and step by step in rhyme and tone,
The world rises to awake, to listen and to echo:
One and two and three, we hold our hand and sing;
Four and five and six, we lean together and dance;
Seven, eight and nine, heaven rains and earth swings;
Ten, eleven and twelve, world melts and spirit joins;
Thirteen, fourteen and sixteen, ah- time stops.
Oh my dreamer! Wake up! Wake up!
Call back your roaming spirit to return,
to the mortal shell of this mirage world.
We don’t call the game, not one, or any.
In chain we are dragged into the coliseum,
we bleed for the worldly gods to drink wine,
we howl bitter tear for ‘the angels’ to sip beer,
we are heroes in our dream, but wake to be slave.
For we rise to end, flourish to decline.
Life goes to death, surviving to end.
Oh love! Topic of two in spirit and mind;
But a single drop of joy ripples lifetime griefs.
Cupid toys his bow, affection surges and ebbs.
Death preaches his faith, a license to kill,
so we all battle for someone else’ belief,
and offer our tear, blood, and blind faith.
Yeah, world's image clouds and entices,
as the fortune road never in our grasp.
The unseeing stars shiver in deep heavens,
I can see the soaring flies, marching roaches,
hear the symphony of rats, harmonizing;
But I know after dark night, rosy dawn,
after rain storms, then rainbows,
And toward the green field I smile and look.
Winter passes and spring comes quickly,
Sun smiles kindly and rain caresses softly,
Wind blows loving seeds everywhere swiftly,
Willow shade our streets and swing tenderly.
All flowers are blossoming courageously,
spreading their gorgeous petals widely,
and showing off their sweet pistil wildly.
There butterflies offering love dance freely,
Honey bees singing and flying, working n playing joyfully.
Come, my love. Let’s row to the pleasure field,
there we will visit the dream of red chamber,
All the beauties express themselves thru poetry,
As my heroic players en pointed in swan lake;
Their peaceful feet spread blessed good news
To all the children of the green mother earth.
And let’s loose our shoes to play, and be lost;
Coz the pasture of our true heart is holy,
and there we shall stay forever happily.
I will hold your hand, and together we'll fly; and we not gonna touch the blue sky, nor pluck the golden moon, nor stir the star oceans. But we will leap off the high cliff, and free fall, and sink deep into the darkness of downlow, to the mystery of eternity, of the still water, there the Spirit floats, since the beginning of the big bang.
Then, we shall hear the song of birds, wonder the glamour of rainbows, smell the fragrant earth, kiss the flavor roses, taste the sweetest honey dew, pick all the juicy fruit, close our eyes to roam, and plunge into the beauty of Eden – that’s love! And be reborn to a new life.
- The End Is Peace -
Laijon Liu
By Laijon Liu (2008.04.08)
- The Start Is Play -
On green earth in the dark universe,
What is the greatest living show?
There people find their true home,
and in sweetest dream they roam.
When sinful wars poke all the holes,
but their game points a better road;
to their sorrow days and lost hope,
they still can sing a rhymed prose.
From the presence to ancient old,
I swear we never lose our true goal;
Even the night rains strike with cold,
But dawn gonna come in color of rose.
Coz I see petal fly and sticker snow,
from my screen to the front rows.
There the stars fall in heavenly glow
to sing an intro for my heroes’ show.
'No more sorrows' they sing, 'behold.
the world gonna become one big hood.'
The camera flash for their perfect pose,
And their peaceful hand heals broken soul.
The whistle of commander for ref to blow,
it’s made for games and not for gun smoke.
My hot babes and my sweet maids
I cannot refrain myself not to gaze.
For their pure face and glamour shape
Shine ten thousand splendors to amaze.
They are the sunshine of my days,
And night rose of my secret space,
Brings me blue sky and good odors,
that the world is not a shitty place.
They stretch their beautiful feet,
Swing their shining sharpen cleats,
so all the cockroaches on my screen
are swept away, off the wicked games.
They work hard on the green pitch,
and always play under fair light,
even dive and foul in an honest name:
The chasing of their dream is true fame.
And peace filled their graceful heart;
Perfect shorts wrapped their sexy butt.
As butterflies they dance here n there,
Like doves they circle a ring of light.
They come in kicking and screaming,
playing with guts n breaking the balls,
composing all the greatest dramas that
even Shakespeare never saw!
Greek heroes of the present day
surely broke Achilles' feeble heel.
Odysseus always had strong arms,
But hey! Look at his weak legs.
Homer sold his Helen’s fair look,
but I do lust for Divas on the stand.
Sun Zi wrote Art of War, for war?!
Oh, No! I believe it is just for game.
And game wheels in movement of life,
as sprinting river clashing waves to the ocean.
People climb high to reach the peak,
but water streams low as art of my poem.
Generations in current from past to future,
Rolling and waving, pushing and pulling,
As songs and dance shift in tones and steps,
All kinds of fashions, old n new, switching trends,
But our passion for it forever runs.
Days and nights I stare at my TV screen,
Hope all channels show any team’s news.
According to result I drink beer or tears;
but if any rats or flies or cockroach wins,
I’d spit and blow a tooting fart: “what a damn scheme!”
Yeah, I should quit those; coz gals hate them.
But my fields are invaded by the true aliens,
who show me their phony cards and tell me to play or not.
And the damn cockroaches sharing my meal
Before my lifetime potato feast is over;
Freaking flies soaring high in the ceiling
and drop their filthy eggs all over my bed;
And vicious rats sharpening their teeth,
Chewing my precious peanuts as concerto;
And I look toward my dream field and know:
Before the night is over, my heroes gonna win.
Even though the flies set up the fireworks
To make the skies to illume as a short day;
The cockroaches consume all the markets,
Marching in with an overwhelmed number;
The rats of the world drain my only oil jar,
And they dare to kill anyone without blinking an eye;
But I know their works are dust and smoke,
Once my players step in the field, then all dirt are dispersed.
So all my players are my heroes and stars
And defending my crappy poetry space-
Where Beauty shines and Hope glows
There my dream rows and heart goes
As the ball rolls that my desire flows
There the gods feed me their shows
In the company of the musical odes;
They chase n woo and fighting my foes!
Their gentle touch n clever play,
and buildup ways make me daze.
Their teasing moves never delay,
Tricked the world into fancy gate.
One and Two they call it Wall Play,
Bring out woohs n aahs in any day.
They patiently wait, as time won’t pay,
but I can’t hold n yell “Come on! Ain’t got all day!”
Yeah, what a game! It’s never a shame.
90 minutes length; never 2 minutes fame.
Guys strive for competition;
Gals always require communication,
but I say, 'Forget about connection,
Just shoot to the goal with passion.
If anyone asks for an explanation,
just tell that we were caught by emotion and lost in sensation.'
Players stand and start in formation,
their thoughts of plans are deep as ocean,
And cleansed by their rousing sweat lotion
to push our earth to a perfect spinning motion.
What an inspiration to the world in depression,
when all of us stumble in confusion n frustration,
and struggle to get out of the freaking desperation,
there they deliver our satisfaction -another resurrection.
And I know resurrection is after death,
and death is after life, and life begins by birth.
Confucius said: “Why one asks about death,
when he does not grasp the meaning of life?”
And Jesus said: “If anyone wants to gain life,
then he must die first, to receive his true life.”
But why I mention this topic in my paragraph,
maybe I just wanna show I know something, or add on more words.
But let me offer another way for explaining:
The ending of game is after its beginning,
And the game must end for a new starting,
And in it, whatever we are experiencing
Is just eternal struggling in a flashing;
And in the end, nothing remains its glowing,
Nor greatest ranking, nor highest scoring,
If there are really anything, then I'd say playing, drinking n snoring.
But wait, in the game what a suffering for playing!
Physical, I called it aching, like a nail pulling;
Spiritual, I called it battling, like a bad dating.
But these two are always coming with smiling.
And we can do nothing but to skip and running.
When the physical pain comes with knocking,
the spiritual wound is wrapped and covered,
once our body healed, then spiritual torment revealed.
Pills for cold, surgery for bone fracture,
but what’s the treatment for missing shots?
Chocolate for girls, sorry notes for wife,
But how can we run away from our Own Goal?
Fill up the cups, drink up the whole bottle,
But before we awake, sorrow returns with a stick.
When the body melts, shatters into dust,
our spirit lingers, roams solo as a cursed ghost.
Yeah, no one is sadder than a lonely soul;
as a solo player tries to fit in the team,
plays an unfamiliar game thru an unusual frame:
Communications for a single connection;
Negotiations to deal individual obsession;
and cut-throat competition for a short possession.
One must surf against all the mighty waves,
to find himself and others thru endlessly searching, forever downloading and acceptable uploading.
Struggling life as striving game in a flash,
for single second glory, forever to catch.
So let’s drive it with ease and hush,
and bring no more harms or headless rush.
If it really hurts and our regretful thoughts gush,
then drink beer, shed tear, and kiss our dear.
Even night seems forever, but love never over;
Even we can’t abide together, let’s share before it’s all over.
And my heroes learn from their young age,
that practice makes all things perfect.
When they try to help family cooking,
Mom yells at them: “You need practice!”
When they miss their easy shots on pitch,
Coach roars at them: “Go Home Practice!”
When their wife teased them in the morning,
they knew they must work hard in the backyard, kitchen and bathroom.
So their nightly works in a fragrant smell
Breezes kindly in morning winds to miles,
sweetest perfume sweat- irresistible cologne-
70 bucks draws their girl fans to heaven.
Their winning cleats never washed,
Pass down good luck to generations with odor.
So let the ref blow his unfair whistle,
Coz my heroes must dance shirtless for yellow and red cards.
Their game is not only pure physical,
But it also requires some brain, or any;
Most time my heroes use their foot,
And sometimes they also throw their head,
But when their game is on the line,
That time burns to injury count,
And the goal must be achieved,
They will use anything, like their godly hand, vicious elbow and provocative saliva to get things done.
Yeah, the game is a life feast from start to end,
and in it they gather and depart by chance,
thru the taste of sour, sweet, bitter, and hot,
as four season dream they roam to awake.
Sunset and sunrise, moon wanes and wax;
our heroes come and go, rise and fall,
while our passion sings up and shouts out:
The goal of life is a forever chase, and never give-up shot.
This game of war thru peace they exchange,
As life and death exemplified by start and end.
Losing requires tear n beer, nor life, nor blood;
Winning of cup is celebrated in showering wine.
Clubs rearrange all countries and towns,
Nation against nation compete in fair plays,
only the purest concept reigns over all:
Virtuous Way, changing seasons, cultures, wits, and common laws.
No more boundaries and worldly craps,
As what we have submitted for our love:
Options of colors, race and fair looks,
Age for fit, wage for security,
Weights, heights, interests, and habits,
Certificates to speak for minds and wits;
But I long for thy cherry lips and beauty’s rose,
And my size n length to reach thy depth n width,
And my ultimate strength to fulfill thy enduring faith,
If not, then thy merciful forgiveness is my living grace.
And this is moment of my truth -my real bullshits.
My true heroes on green pitch they play;
as injurious insect in the world they beguile.
That they rip off all the crappy covers,
as the bold band of Robin Hood robs the rich for gold,
as the intoxicated outlaw of marsh fighting corruptions,
as the cowboy Jesse James rides riotously in Wild West.
And I raise up my two hands and praise their work:
May their deception in the game never ends.
Oh, deception! How could I forget about!
Wise act as April’s fool; lions speak as meek;
Vultures soar as eagles; and wolves dress as sheep;
Able does not show, giving is to receive;
Enemy is never far, and friends are never close.
Seduce their greed, rob those in chaos,
Avoid the strong, scratch the wrath,
Praise the humbles, and labor the rested,
Separate the close, strike the incautious,
and break into the house of rash head.
But let me stop plagiarizing Sun Zi’s.
Yeah, my heroes are the players that know themselves,
and before their game starts they learn their enemies.
Seasons pass, nights and days, they will never lose.
They launch in a common form and score with surprise.
Ooh, their surprises! Limitless as heavens and earth,
ceaselessly flushes as rolling river and spring water.
Their splashing waves beating the stony shores,
Chunk by chunk the rock are tossed and metal floats.
On the pitch they strike with thunder blow.
Their golden shoes are the cloudy Zeus’ bow,
Aim every wicked hole, and shoot a deadly stroke.
As hawk they soar, as tiger they stalk, as lion they roar,
in sec of flash the old foxes are trapped and choke.
My heroes wax their bow with strength,
Shoot off their silvering arrows in trice,
and beat down their enemies as a giant rock that rolls.
Their great strategy lies in a fluid form,
Changes its infinite shape as time flows;
Swift as high winds that blows, sweeping clouds;
Calm as night forest that grows, unmoving oceans;
Wild as autumn fire that razes, brimstone storms;
Firm as Himalayas that stands, everlasting tall!
They are my monkey king holds a magic staff,
smashes nine heavens and stirs four seas.
People say: “Warriors are born for war,
and they are never made for good date.”
But they are more than heroes and players;
they are lover and mate, and perfect fit.
Coz on our dear mother earth they strive
fearlessly for love, barefoot they pursue;
shamelessly for truth, strip off all their cloth,
Drunk with dreams, and intoxicated for hope.
When their magical sphere rolls and bounces,
Strangers in the world become old time intimate.
One by one and step by step in rhyme and tone,
The world rises to awake, to listen and to echo:
One and two and three, we hold our hand and sing;
Four and five and six, we lean together and dance;
Seven, eight and nine, heaven rains and earth swings;
Ten, eleven and twelve, world melts and spirit joins;
Thirteen, fourteen and sixteen, ah- time stops.
Oh my dreamer! Wake up! Wake up!
Call back your roaming spirit to return,
to the mortal shell of this mirage world.
We don’t call the game, not one, or any.
In chain we are dragged into the coliseum,
we bleed for the worldly gods to drink wine,
we howl bitter tear for ‘the angels’ to sip beer,
we are heroes in our dream, but wake to be slave.
For we rise to end, flourish to decline.
Life goes to death, surviving to end.
Oh love! Topic of two in spirit and mind;
But a single drop of joy ripples lifetime griefs.
Cupid toys his bow, affection surges and ebbs.
Death preaches his faith, a license to kill,
so we all battle for someone else’ belief,
and offer our tear, blood, and blind faith.
Yeah, world's image clouds and entices,
as the fortune road never in our grasp.
The unseeing stars shiver in deep heavens,
I can see the soaring flies, marching roaches,
hear the symphony of rats, harmonizing;
But I know after dark night, rosy dawn,
after rain storms, then rainbows,
And toward the green field I smile and look.
Winter passes and spring comes quickly,
Sun smiles kindly and rain caresses softly,
Wind blows loving seeds everywhere swiftly,
Willow shade our streets and swing tenderly.
All flowers are blossoming courageously,
spreading their gorgeous petals widely,
and showing off their sweet pistil wildly.
There butterflies offering love dance freely,
Honey bees singing and flying, working n playing joyfully.
Come, my love. Let’s row to the pleasure field,
there we will visit the dream of red chamber,
All the beauties express themselves thru poetry,
As my heroic players en pointed in swan lake;
Their peaceful feet spread blessed good news
To all the children of the green mother earth.
And let’s loose our shoes to play, and be lost;
Coz the pasture of our true heart is holy,
and there we shall stay forever happily.
I will hold your hand, and together we'll fly; and we not gonna touch the blue sky, nor pluck the golden moon, nor stir the star oceans. But we will leap off the high cliff, and free fall, and sink deep into the darkness of downlow, to the mystery of eternity, of the still water, there the Spirit floats, since the beginning of the big bang.
Then, we shall hear the song of birds, wonder the glamour of rainbows, smell the fragrant earth, kiss the flavor roses, taste the sweetest honey dew, pick all the juicy fruit, close our eyes to roam, and plunge into the beauty of Eden – that’s love! And be reborn to a new life.
- The End Is Peace -
Laijon Liu
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