Anna Yin's Poetry Alive

 

 

 

So many years, still you live in that city.
Your orchard has bloomed, blessed with fruits.
Your roots must have grown deep;
I’ve heard          you have been happy.

So many years, still I am the wandering
moon, far and away into other courses.
Some nights        I have dropped by
and watched a sad face in your mirror;

You might see or not—
along with a long long river.

The fallen leaves, east winds picked up
and blown into you, now are in my mirror.
I guess I have my whispers there
and take some to write poems
so winters would brighten up.

So many years, in my mirror
there are suns, rains and moons.
There also is carried the city that you live in.

I might have forgotten many things;
I think winds do remember them.
When they are blown into my garden,
I cup each and think of
that night’s moon, and the city that floats.

这么多年，你还是住在那座城市里，
在那开了花，结了果，
生了根，也有了其他的满足和快乐。

这么多年，我还是流浪的月亮，
漂泊不同的方向。
有些晚上，我会到访，
在你的镜子里，一张忧伤的脸

你看得见又看不见
一条长长的河。。。

叶落了，风会吹来
飘进你的心里，挂在我的镜子里，
我想那里有我的低语
并且写着诗让冬天会斑斓一些。

这么多年，我走了很远很远，
我的镜子里有太阳，有月亮，
也有那座城市。

许多事也许我已经忘记，
但风总是不会忘记。
当风把它们吹进我的花园,
我会静静地拾起，想起
那晚的月亮，那座漂浮的城市。

more：https://www.annapoetry.com/?p=4222

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More Poetry with Music   Listen to: A Chinese Nightingale

I am sitting in the gym of the University of Alberta, watching the 2014 Canadian Table Tennis Games. Between games, I open Debbie Okun Hill’s “Tarnished Trophies”. This is Mrs. Hill’s first collection of poetry. It paints a picture of the athletic soul through the light and shade of the sports world. Around me, I can hear the cheers near and far and ping pong balls bouncing back and forth. Her poems “It Starts Here” and “Hockey Parent Pilgrimage”, perfectly resonate with my memory of my son’s athletic journey. I still remember when we drove through storms to other cities for basketball tournaments. Like each athlete’s family in her book, we too have experienced the excitement of winning and the sorrow of losing. We have witnessed the players fighting through ups and downs, between hope and despair, and “wondering how long this practice…will last” and where the “go-go-gold” leads… when “slithering snakes on patrol\ready to trip the weakest warriors”. This book not only visualizes the tough practice of both body and mind, but also reflects on the sacrifice of the family. An athlete’s journey becomes the family’s journey, full of sweat and tears, brimming with cheers and faith. From “Thirst for First” to “The Finish Line”, each mind races with ticks of the watch, each stretching with longing for every golden moment…yet there is silence falling “At the Click of a Stopwatch”, there is a dilemma to find an end at “This is Where it Ends”.

Debbie Okun Hill cleverly unfolds her poems in a reasonable sequence and groups them into three sessions: “Training”, “Building Muscle” and “Hitting Home”. It begins with “It Starts Here” and “Thirst for First”. It ends with “The Finish Line” and “This is Where it Ends”. In most of her poems, Mrs. Hill uses short lines with irregular meter and that pattern continues to the end, which not only reflects the intense, dynamic and unpredictable outcome of the sports world, but also implies the demand for the persistence of athletic spirit for each sport. “So those who are last will be first, /and those who are first will be last.” The book “Tarnished Trophies” brings readers deep thoughts about what truly we look for from the sports world, what will last till the end and whether it is worthy. When I explore her poetic imagination and her probing mind, I watch out and think not only about my son’s games but also about what they lead to.