I talked of previous lives
when you were born Chinese,
in Manchuria perhaps,
and I in rural England where
I looked east and savoured
cold winds seasoned with salt.
You smiled indulgently at me
and my invented symmetry.

And then you returned to the southwest
to walk again under dreaming spires,
roam the shires and queue for local bitter--
all that you missed in your vagrant years are
yours once more. Yet the hot bright sun
beating down on the idling egrets and me
on a far shore now holds your memory.

And so I know you live in me
for you, too, are exiled
in your own country.

Eva Hung was born and educated in Hong Kong, where English was used in school and Cantonese at home. After receiving her Ph.D. from London University, she joined the Chinese University of Hong Kong in 1986. She is editor of Renditions, a journal specializing in the translation of Chinese literature into English. She also writes short fiction and essays in Chinese.

www.cuhk.edu.hk/rct
www.renditions.org

E-mail Eva Hung at
comments@moondance.org

Other poems

[ The Joy Of Sex ] [ Hunger's Reach ] [ Her Face ]
[ Exiles ] [ Mountain Women ]

Write Us!

[ Cover ] [ Arts ] [ Columns ] [ Fiction ]
[ Inspirations ] [ Nonfiction ] [ Opinions ]
[ Poetry ] [ Rising Stars ] [ Song and Story ]
[ Bookstore ] [ Cosmic Connections ]
[ Best of Theme ] [ About Moondance ]
[ The Ten Commandments of Creative Women ]
[ Awards and Web Rings ]
[ Letters To The Editor ]
 
Have a Submission?

TO THE TOP

Copyright © 2001 Moondance: Celebrating Creative Women
Moondance Logo by Elizabyth Burtis-Lopez, 4 Monkeys Web Design