Lost

Lost

(Written by Kongyin,

translated by Prof. Jan Walls)

I'm a rash and reckless rascal

always losing this and that --

not so long ago I lost the scarf you gave me

and when I stooped down to chat with a dandelion I lost a shoe

and in the blink of an eye my beloved painting brush disappeared

without a trace

and the bookmark I lost the other day must have been picked up

by the wind?

and as for that little poem that

slipped out of my diary,

it must be locked in someone's drawer?

It's cloudy today, and it's getting windy

I went for a stroll on the mountain

and heard an old tune

hummed by several trees

I listened and listened, lost in fascination

Oh no! I lost something else today --

I lost myself

if you should see the "lost" sign

hanging around my neck

won't you stop and rub my head and lead me back home?

Maybe

Maybe

 (by Kongyin)

Stars glimmering in a stream,

moon flickering on a far mountain,

bamboo leaves rustling,

dogs barking,

withered vines reaching out,

endlessly, a road stretching.

On a blue path of flagstone,

petals chasing a puff of breeze,

she all in grey, holding her alms,  

knocks on doors, begging in shadows.

That person might be me.

There I may have been.

The Other Side of the Mountains

        A few days before Christmas, bright 7-year-old Erin Moore died after being hit by a rock slide while hiking with a group in the mountains.

When I heard the news, I could not help feeling pain for her family. What a trauma they had to go through!  In front of my eyes, I could almost see a beautiful little girl, scampering through the woods, dancing along, her hair streaming behind her, the mountains echoing her peals of laughter.

At the time I was on the Sunshine Coast, sketching raging water by a cliff, while thinking of Erin at the same time. Suddenly it occurred to me that Erin died at a creek bed, and I was standing right by a beautiful creek, surrounded by breath-taking nature. Erin must have adored nature as much as I; somehow an instant connection sprung up between her and me. Quietly I stole into my lodge, stayed up late and wrote this poem for her:

The Other Side of the Mountains

(For Erin Moore)

I will journey to the far side of the mountains,

I will be away a long while.

In my pack I put my favorite doll

and my sketch book

and your smiling eyes.

I set my tears in it too

but after a moment, I removed them.

Now, I lack nothing

nor will I shed tears.

You, on this side of the mountains might weep

lacking me,

but know that you and I will never be apart

you in my eternal gaze, and me, yours.

(Poem by Kongyin)