Fingers 手指

Because I left early operation of
the conveyor belt that running overtime
my rough fingers
in comparison with my sisters
are looked much younger.
I heard about such slender fingers
should fall in love with black and white keys.

The flawless jade-like fingers
are arrested by diamond rings,
embraced by flowers.
Every time I look at such
perfect fingers
I am so thirst want to
take a bite lightly.

The fingers being like dead branches
are those fingers soaked in ice frost,
sprayed with boiling oil and shocked by electricity,
those fingers worked to assemble the parts in factory,
those fingers to plant and harvest
under the scorching sun,
and those fingers to fish and hunt
in the cold rain.

Those fingers constantly done in making fists,
stretching, bending and wagging,
those fingers deformed from overuse,
and those fingers to wipe away own sweat smell
and to wipe away tears for others,
such hard-working and no regrets
reminds me of my parents.

The axe斧頭

The axe with a handle made by the first tree
cuts the trunk of the second tree.
The axe with a handle made by the second tree
cuts off the tomorrow of the third tree.
The axe with a handle made in tomorrow by the third tree
cuts down the happiness of the fourth tree.
And that made by the fourth tree………
……………………………
……………………………
The tree plays a role in cutting the trees,
as a tragedy in endless cycle.
After all
who raises the axe?
And who made the axe?

（English Translation by Lee Kuei-shien）

Falling trees砍樹

A mountain forest
losses one tree
just like a head of black hairs
falls down one hair,
while a nestling is so sad
as whole sky is disappearing.

A dense forest
losses one butterfly
just like the world lessens a little dust,
while a rose is so mournful
as the sky is disappearing.

When the poet falls a negative tree
among the word forest
all other trees in the same forest
affirmatively wave to say
Yeah!

（Translated by Lee Kuei–shien）

I want a room我想要一個房間

I want a room
To hide the tears
Tears that are dried by time
Snow like salt flakes
The room becomes a memorial of sorrow
The story is salty and bitter
Like
Other people’s

I want a room
To archive text containing blood and stained by tears
Text yet to be discovered
People don’t like to witness text of blood and tears
But are constantly creating blood and tears

I want
A secret room
To let me peel off the layers of masks
Remove the protective clothing that is about to become skin
I will be with great loneliness
Living together
Loving one anotheruntil death

A quiet invisible prayer room
Deep in my heart
Let me kneel and pray to god anytime and anywhere
Repair the constant breach
To become the original me

（Translated by Te-chang Mike Lo）