【Huilan's poem】in the Sky

By Huilan



I am flying as high as eagles in my dream.
The water looks like the soft skin of my hands’ back, smooth and still.
It makes me feel empty, and replenished. Sometimes,
I can feel the smile of the man in my mind touching my body steadily.
After years of waiting, each pore of my skin awakens from time,
as well as my memories.

I am flying so high to reach stars; to cross past and future.
Somewhere in the world, a man is waiting for me, for a Chinese girl,
who comes from ancient dynasty of China when it was free to fly;
a girl is misdated to city Zigong, Chengdu and Beijing,
where people see her as an alien.
She was born when Chairman Mao was still the emperor.
Fortunately, her family has survived from all political movements
as the richest of the country in later Qing Dynasty for years.
Her childhood’s always hungry dizzily, but she always felt grateful
to the government, by only took over all of the properties
but not her thoughts.

of the old days, I already knew she is me: small, soft, but strong.
I can still remember myself as free as birds drifting among hills,
just like right now, above the clouds, above minds of people.
At the moment, I’m a drop water of Pacific Ocean, crossing time and space,
skin colors, opinions, and languages
to you.

I am flying.
I want to know if a drop of water can melt anything,
including a man?

【Huilan's poem】the Moment

By Huilan


Always a deep night. I hear a stream running in the forest.
The season dies and it’s alive, a worm comes and moves away.
I stand there waiting for the moon, or a shadow under tree leaves,
like the stubborn wood for the wind; the silly bird for spring.
I don’t know what it is; perhaps a drop of water, a sound, a sight,
a road to the endless of the night, or a laughing from the heart of a child.
I don’t know what it is but standing still.

Who’s there playing my harp? Who wipes the dust from the scotch?
When stars have gone, they left the sky as a huge drop of black tear.
It drops down to my room, puts out my dreams quietly.
I can’t remember when I cried and now I really don’t care:
A huge drop of black tear of night can be also the blue sea of a new day;
of the new day, there’re sparkles in my eyes.

I hear you say to me: not long now, Huilan.
And I know, it would be soon. We would sit down on the beach,
watch the surface of the sea, waving high, just like our hearts inside.
We would see something more turbulent than waves but not say a word.
Only sit down still to listen to our breath; then, quietly,
we would hold hands in hands, look into each other’s eyes,
until all stars come back with flash tears of joy.

The night is so quiet at the moment.
Once more, your soft voice whispers my name with a gentle tone.
It is like traces on sands after breezing; as soft as silk.
It pours out to me smooth but firm, within a moment,
I was lost, and I’m found…