World, What Are You Due? Poem by Kong Yin

World, what are you due?
Why urge me write poetry
while others revel in wild parties
and I drift along the seashore?

Those wearing sunglasses
speed away in their sports cars
splashing mud and mockery.
Even a gaggle of snow geese,
departing the hamlet for food,
disdain to share my path.

World, what are you due?
Why did you chase me
onto this narrow path?

You expect me to toil
a busy bee in your garden.
Do you expect my suffering
will transform into honey?
You want me to be a spider,
weaving webs on dark doors.
Will my melancholy
ensnare something in the end?

World, what are you due?
Ruthlessly, you watch the thorns of poems
prick my anxious nightingale heart.
Do you expect
my blood will dye red
a white rose?