Sad and far

"bones flesh" = relatives
"wind dust" = a long time has passed
"hands feet" = siblings
"cicada call" = writing poems

One of my eldest nieces sent me a letter and included some poem written by my deceased older brother. After I read the two poems he wrote, I wrote these poems in response as an offering of remembrance. Also in 1935, my younger sister came to Guangzhou to meet with this older brother and his wife. They discussed our father's burial plans. After they said goodbye, that was the last time they saw each other. Afterwards, with wars and moving, now it's forty years later. It seems like a dream, we will not see each other again. As I think about this, I'm extremely sad. So I wrote two poems.

Old country sent letter thinking older brother
Very sad remembering back old time things
Far apart bones flesh wind dust eon
Separated worlds still reciting voice travels across

Trace back past feelings hands feet close
Remaining poems open read tears wet shirt
Cicada sings from tall tree for brother
This day's cicada song composes my poem

In case you don't recall, my grandfather was arrested by the Japanese during invasion on one return to Shanghai. He was in jail for several months.

"fry simmer" = torture, suffering
- There's a classic poem that said when the author saw such a pretty moon, he wanted to fly to the moon. The saying went that there were jade mansions on the surface of the moon. "But," he said, "at so high a place, I don't think I can take the cold."
- "harp dulcimer harmony" = expression for husband wife happy relationship 
Reference to old war time when soldiers were drafted to defend forts far away and heard foreign music played by enemy military and grew sad.


In jail, mid-autumn sending to wife
I wrote several poems in jail. But because there were not enough pens and paper, I lost them all. Only this poem, after I was released, I remembered while recalling. Usually when composing poems, you have a reference book of rhyming words. But in jail, I just had to use the ones I could remember.

Fry simmer* right until sun sets west
Fall festival empty talk, "How pretty moon."
Several times joyride wind to jade mansions
But regretfully no way row fairy boat
In bedroom night weeping grieving tuning dulcimer
Fort below autumn sound mourning playing (foreign) reed
Waiting for moon light cast pair shadows*
More fragrance carefully arrange silk screen flowers

*In jail, suffering drawn out more than torture
**I had heard a rumor that I would be bailed out of jail