New Gift Poem by Wilson Chipangura

NEW GIFT(新的礼物)

Standing by the touchline in the field,
The rays of a unfamiliar sun
Torched the eyes with its reflection,
That was shining like a polished floor,

Playing its hide-and-seek,
Everything seemed cheeky,
In the sport pitch; the common training
Was turning hard like a stone,
In that sacred forest of Nanjing

Cogitating about throwing in the towel,
With that sombre smile on the face
That looked like a mastered farce,
Everything changed in my watery eyeballs,
Slowly stepped a strange figure,

Shyly I approached to greet,
Feeling proud of my white teeth,
Everything looked good for real,
Finally in that quagmire I found a pal.

*by Wilson(威尔逊) Chipangura