Rocking into the Night Clouds from the Porch

Written by Tony Kwok, and Translated by Bob Chen

Dyed like a swatch of mauve cloud
under the eaves,
on the porch
one by one the breeze blows and rocks the easy chair,
it brings forth the scent of the Earth,
and the fragrance from the flowers by the railing,
rocking into the night clouds from the porch.

The foothill to the right draws a zinc-white dust trail,
the sea to the left
underneath its mauve depth,
lies the old homestead that we left many years ago,
watching and thinking.
The beach underfoot,
ocean wave teases against the cliff,
rolls up thousand patches of white snow,
yesterday afternoon's burden was left behind the boulder
oh waves!
Please wash it away!

Rocking
Rocking to " smoke gets in your eyes ",
rocking to " one night with you ".
Rocking the spiral staircase chase,
and the rolling of marbles in the hallway.
Rocking along the dark night mountain paths of Lan-Tou Island,
the night bells from Pou-Ling Monastery
listening to ghost stories by the railing of the gazebo.
Rocking the doleful eyes of the mind,
butterflies flickering like mad in the belly.
Rocking to the " Ms. Cloud " on T.V.
fainting in the assembly hall where school cert was held.
Rocking to the waves of laughters,
nonsensical debates,
true and honest hugs.
Rocking to the naive mirage,
that unlimited ideal.
Rocking to the farewell at the airport,
bon voyage by the ship-side.
Rocking
tears well-up in the eye-sockets,
smiling.

Can't see the knight on a white stallion riding into the sunset,
instead an old mare galloping into the night clouds.
Slow steps in cadence,
remind someone the familiar melodies.
Rocking into the night clouds from the porch.

Don't be sad for the night clouds,
and never sigh for the fallen clouds.
Rocking into the night clouds
that whiff of rich and strong air,
golden sheen in the lights sends away the mauve clouds,
quietly welcome the lifes' happy psalms.

Heaven's edge is turning to cast-iron black,
the light under the eaves is turned on!
The wind rocks the easy chair,
I'm standing on the porch to see the night clouds disperse.

Written on the occasion of the first thousand impromptu visits of the
lighters' web-site, by the Golden Gate Bridge, in the year 1997, the
12th day of December.
Translated for the lighters without NJStar, or TwinBridge in the wee
hours of the night 12/20/97.