On That Evening/那个午后
I could still remember
how deep the silence was
on that evening
at a deserted hilltop
I couldn't forget
the stillness of the air
in the glassy sunlight
I could almost smell
the breath of the wind
that stood motionless
by my side alone
murmuring a string of words
Too abstruse to comprehend
Too tragic to interpret
As the distant mountains were
awaken, they began to stir
I confabulated to myself
ceaselessly trying to shake off
the squalid debris of emotion
that remained entrenched in my heart
burning like a desecrated flame
it fettered to my pallid soul
and I felt the prodigious weight
of the squirming mountains
I desperately tried to dodge
but they inched closer and closer
looming large with ominous monstrosity
And finally, the wind
started to blow
liked a titillating trance
The wild weeds billowed
I felt I breathed again
As I gazed fearlessly at
the screaming misgivings
in my temporal life
The assaulting mountains timidly
halted, and the wind
kept blowing in a crescendo speed
On the precipitous slope
of time I stood still
waiting for the whitewashed
sky to be blue again
On that evening
At the deserted hilltop
I finally discovered how
easily the narratives of my tale
could digress, inadvertently
get lost in the capricious map
that every footstep of mine
traversed and traveled
until the end of my life
(From the top of Sugar Loaf Hill, Napier, NZ)
No comments:
Post a Comment