Night Thought Poem by Perdita Young (Hanna Wang)

The Night with its light cold wind
stirs a limpid autumn pond,
causing ripples after ripples，
as trees dance with their shadows.
Brittle is Night's silence,
that cannot bear a single blow.

Fallen leaves are drifting on the wind,
in moonlight desolate.
The Night is long and drawn out,
hovering around its black folds.
The Thought is solitary, trying
to figure out its twists and turns.

Restless are the Hearts
that constantly transform and chase-
entangling and entwining,
unable to hide from the other's trace,
like a herd of bolting horses,
raise clustering clouds of sand storms
in their unbridled gallops...

Ah you in sound sleep,
can you hear me my calls?
Can you hear my soft tapping
on your dream-house window,
hear your pet-name in whispers called?

Dec.1st,2007.