Friday, July 1, 2022




The West Wind Blows To The Branches Of The Sweet-Scented Osmanthus In The Alley


Sitting in this long train of iron-hulled carriages

Across the window, the iron bridge and copper pillars outside the west bank are dust-free

Plantains and maple leaves, drifting away from my ears

Holding one eye, looking at her beside me


She pointed out the window, and then I realized that the west wind was following us

It's like the old things are repeated

In the Central Bookstore, found together with a modern poem we once read

It's still lonely in the interleaf


Fortunately, she took my hand and felt my heart

Looking for our own walk-in town

With white hair on our temples, smiled and let the leisure in the alley wash away the noisy dust

Then walk into the sunset and set foot on the journey home


Passing by the corner market, want to write a poem

Surprised to see a cat drinking a glass beaded soda

The fragrance of books, the sweet-scented osmanthus, and the small alleys

Now just want to ask, now the time is so light

The passers-by, why are you in such a hurry? 


The Small Village Story


This is how the small village manages the seclusion

Strolling along the lost path, the citronella hut is hidden in the tree pods to steal leisure

Low-slung row fields, surrounded by clear water ditches for irrigation

The fallen leaves are like flying tentacles that frighten the crows in the cold winter

The wind outside the pavilion carries sand and dust

The stone wall exposed the fibrous roots of the tree, which were slightly cracked

The sun that just came out of the east, with a twisted slope, stands aside


Who deceived you passers-by who came from afar?

Not to chase the surges of the deep blue sea

But learn the wind of the residual rain of apricot flowers

Blow so lightly

Now the empty alleys after the people are gone seem sparse and lonely, what's the use of more remorse?

The back of the small village is secluded and there are no idlers, but the front eaves of the exaggerated hotel house are full of flying fish


Outside the house, next to the small forest tree at the foot of the lonely peak

The green duck curled up on one foot and pretended to be dozing off the edge of the pond

Apparently, its heart is  clearer than mine, only in deep water that spring can be found

The boss brought a wine jug, and I tasted circumspectly his intentions and a table full of delicacies

Under the call of meat, even fine wine can't solve the sorrow

I'm just a passerby

Can't handle the tangle in this leisurely life

Even if thousands of articles are left, I am not the only one who is wide awake today 


Elegy Of The Sea


On the sea, white clouds lie on the top

Sand, come and go with the waves

Waves, one is born and one is destroyed at the same time

If they stop washing each other one day, this white expanse will naturally gallop to peace

No one knew that the water here was supposed to be so clear, that the sun's light was supposed to be so bright

The sound of the waves and the roar of the turtles rooted to the depths of the sea

The green rocks are slightly exposed, and I don’t want to talk about the right and wrong of the sea

All night, the east wind blows across the sea

Remnant yellow dust, how dare the sea mud pollute the natural tranquility

The red scales have not changed, but darkly destroy the invisible world

However, the road back to the sea seems to be out of reach

Under the slump of the muddy pit, is it possible that there is only room for sinking in the sea of bitterness

When the red on the water has disappeared, the snow-white heart is still bright

Predestined to sit quietly, eager to eliminate the misfortune from nowhere

Learn to fish with the white waves, look back several times to find the way but disappear

Can't afford to sing high, send away the feelings that are gradually drifting away

Throat tragically turned into a brooding heart, drifting to the end of the cloud

It laughs at my broken shadows sifting through the swamp, counting boats on the sea, but the sorrow in my heart is more sorrowful 

About the Author




Prof. Dr. TZEMIN ITION TSAI(蔡澤民博士) was born in Taiwan(China). He holds a Ph.D. in Chemical Engineering and two Masters of Science in Applied Mathematics and Chemical Engineering. He is a scholar with a wide range of expertise, while maintaining a common and positive interest in science, engineering, and literature. Dr. Tsai is not just an accomplished poet, he is an essayist, novelist, columnist, editor, translator, academic, engineer, mathematician, and so many other things. His literary creation specializes and expertise in the description of nature, the anatomy of emotion and humanity, life writing, graphic writing, cross-domain writing, and so on. Dr. Tsai has carried out a number of educational research with the development of teaching materials in his country. He has won many national literary awards. His literary works have been anthologized and published in books, journals, and newspapers in more than 40 countries and translated into more than 20 languages. Tsai is a professor at Asia University(Taiwan), editor of Reading, Writing, and Teaching academic text. He also writes the long-term columns for Chinese Language Monthly in Taiwan. There are many famous poets from different countries in the world through his Chinese translations and introductions were able to be recognized by the people of China.


No comments :

Post a Comment