On a Chinese folding screen
I embroider thousand names
Amid the peony blooms
Beneath them leaves perpetual green
Sew some early summer rains
Swallows cutting them by wings
What about their joyful screams?
Ask no more than the wind
Back and forth, needle through the cloth
Pebbles come after autumnal frosts
Sneak out when the sun rise east
To west it shines the awakening earth
Where are the names? You may ask
One is driving on a snowflake
One is hiding with a winter snake
The rest? Might in some frozen dust
At last, my hand move to spring
Names all cling to a thing
In a unique voice it sing
To lives through my folding screen
This poem strikes me as a double poem: the first one describes the making of this screen with its traditional subject matter emphasizing nature across the seasons. So the first poem is an account of the artist at work. But the second poem is that design which has an energy of its own and comes to life in the middle stanzas. And I can't say which one is the main poem to me. I like the drama of both components. It gives a special urgency to the act of creating art but also the act of observing the finished product.
One art can always sing to another! In spring, nature sings to me, and i sing to the folding screen in writing.
Beautiful piece anne Where are the names? You may ask One is driving on a snowflake One is hiding with a winter snake The rest? Might in some frozen dust beautiful
I first read this poem in 2016 when you published it at PH. It's now four years later when I re-read it tonight and its loveliness touched me deeply. Your poem celebrates the sheer beauty and joy of human existence, and dispels the disappointments and sadness of life so that we can appreciate
Very beautiful poem, sounds like you've managed to capture utopia on your folding screen.
Rereading it I found it more rich than by first reading.A gret work of art, dear Anne.Keep on writting poesy.
On a Chinese folding screen I embroider thousand names Amid the peony blooms Beneath them leaves perpetual green - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Awesome write ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Back and forth, needle through the cloth Pebbles come after autumnal frosts Sneak out when the sun rise east To west it shines the awakening earth at last i move to spring. a wonderful poem. you are a gifted poetess dear Ann. tha nk you. tony