The Card Players (Paul Cézanne) Poem by William He

The Card Players (Paul Cézanne)
By William He

Two figures sit frozen in focus,
Like twin statues,
Carved from stillness there.
They gazes linger, heavy,
Like the gnarled roots of an old cypress,
Leaves brittle, branches tough.
The scattered cards on the table,
Fragile as dry butterflies,
Drift in the shadows, seeking.
Time folds into quiet spaces.
A faint scent of wine,
Glass reflects memories,
Faint echoes of days gone by.
Yet the wide-brimmed black hat
Cannot hide the heart's unease even.

What is there to speak of gain or loss.
A thousand years cast in a single throw.
The chaos of primordial epochs fades,
Who recalls now.
Once we sowed the colors of spring,
Only to find no fortune
In the abundance of summer or the harvest of fall.
In the stillness,
So many memories linger.
In the end, they transform
Into fragments, soft brushstrokes,
Old patterns revived once.
A sight worth painting,
Secretly astonishing once a while.
Upon closer look,
Mystery swirls in frosted hues,
A deep sense of trepidation here.

六丑 塞尚油画《玩牌者》
作者：何威廉

见凝神对坐，
似两座、
浮雕岑寂。
目光滞沉，
如盘根老柏，
叶燥枝涩。
桌上牌摊散，
脆如枯蝶，
泛暗流寻觅。
光阴摺叠成闲隙。
酒气微熏，
玻璃影恻，
依稀昔时痕迹。
奈宽檐帽黑，
难掩心怵。

何言得失。
算千年一掷。
亘古洪荒远，
谁记得。
曾经手播春色。
竟无缘面向，
夏繁秋实。
无声处、
几多回忆。
终化作、
片片濡毫渲染，
旧时纹脉。
真堪画，
暗自惊惑。
待细看、
秘幻涂霜彩，
兼盈悚惕。