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In spite of the fact
that late autumn
has thrown
the memory of summer
into the shade
yet today
the sun smiles brightly
all the same
and warmly
on this evergreen island
with a tropical climate
But
it's strange
that I'm still lukewarm
once in a while
and feel like crying
instead of singing
Perhaps
I haven't learned
how to get along well
with foul days
Perhaps
it's time
to love them
better than fair days
Whose hand is it
that has sneakingly
opened the book of life
to the page
of gloomy November
After the story of love
has passed its prime
what else is left
to rhyme
Like a wandering rover
having gambled away
all but his precious time
I'm hesitating
to venture out again
on the thin ice
at this time of the year
when the merciless winter
on the outside
is ambushing
like a fierce polar bear
far and near
If it's likely
to drown worry
in whisky
I'd have drowned it
a thousand of years ago
If there's a way
to assassinate sorrow
I won't have to
wait until tomorrow
to murder it
Though roses are red
and pretty
and if you happen
to be a rose too
I'm afraid
I can't love you
any more
I'm sorry
to have to say so
It's not because
you may be thorny
but because
you're beautiful
only in a greenhouse
whereas I'm only alive
and kicking
in nature
Perhaps
I should set my affections
more on weeds
for it may bring tears
to my eyes
to see a rose
become feeble and wilt
in the wild
Isn't it funny
When you're not here
I yearn greatly
for the sweetness
of apples
Nevertheless
why do I seldom notice
those two red apples
on your rosy cheeks
when you're here
with me
Isn't it more funny
Isn't it funny
When you're not here
I wander lonely
on the street
like a forlorn dog
feeling depressed
as if the heavens
are falling down
and yearning greatly
for the sweetness
of apples
Nevertheless
isn't it more funny
When you're here
with me
why do I seldom notice
those two red apples
on your rosy cheeks
and quarrel easily
with you
over trivial matters
Don't bother
to wipe away the mist
from the window panes
Maybe a neat and tidy house
looks more comfortable to you
but I'd prefer to see
the world outside
through the misty glass
Likewise
you'll remain forever young
and pretty
in my watery eyes
The woman whom
I quarreled most often with
has fallen sound asleep
beside me
I bet
she'll never know
she's also the one
that I care about most
in my life
Maybe
it's time to learn
to stop complaining
about the weather
even though it shows
how much
I'm really concerned
Maybe
I should learn
to embrace bad weather
as well
since I don't have a way
to change it
Unwittingly
it's late November
yet
those trees
that are lining both sides
of the street
are still green and thriving
If the northeast seasonal winds
are reluctant to show up
then leaves won't change color
and there won't be an autumn
lyrical as a poem
beautiful as a painting
I can imagine
you too
in a far distant place
can't wait
to put on your autumn best
bright and colorful
as those falling leaves
before the blues eventually
dominate this world
I don't mind
who owns the tallest skyscraper
in the world
as long as
I'm still able to see
through my window
a tiny piece of blue sky
once in a while
Why must I care
who invented the aircraft carrier
as long as
there's still plenty of room
for mermaids
to swim leisurely
and joyfully
in the ocean
This morning
it was nice and pleasant
I supposed
the day would be
definitely
as sunny as your smile
yet it began drizzling
near noon
So I had no option
but to change my mind
and presumed
it'd be sobbing
for the rest
of the day
Yet
it starts smiling
again
towards the evening
After having a stroll
in the morning
on the lush green campus
I take a seat
on a long bench
under a shady banyan tree
by a pond
The sunshine
along with the breeze
in late autumn
is so mindful of others
that I feel extremely calm
and peaceful
despite the fact
that they're a bit old
and weary as I am
Please save your flowers
along with the applause
for those
who long for them most
I need to
maintain my composure
before I arrive
at the top of Mount Everest
before I reach
my Shangri-La
I don't want to
get beside myself with joy
in this fool's paradise
Seeing that May Lily
has disappeared
with our lady's tears
I suppose
I'm no more able
to recollect
any more beautiful story
to share
in the depth of autumn
with this world
except for those golden reeds
waving and rustling
in the wind
all over the hills
while the sun is setting
in the west
Where have they all gone
those wild flowers
in the field
once smiling
innocently at the sun
once dancing
cheerfully
in the summer breeze
and once bringing
to me
the best gift
this paradise has
Now
wherever I go
the sight
that meet my eyes
is yellow dry reeds
Even the corn plants
in the distance
look like withered grass
to my eye