I inscribe emerald tendrils from depths

Su Yun, a 16-year young poet from China, shares his poetry

Su Yun, Whose real name is Chen Ruizhe, is a 16-year-old poet. He is the member of the Chinese Poetry Society. His works have been published in more than ten countries, including the poetry collections “Spreading All Things” and “Wise Language Philosophy” in China, and the poetry collection “WITH ECSTASY OF MUSING IN TRANQUILITY” in India. He won the 2024 Guido Gozzano Apple Orchard Award in Italy. Literature is deserted, but there are people who keep on warming up.

WHISPERS OF EARTH

Gossamer dances with falling plumes

I inscribe emerald tendrils from depths

He gestures toward that distant realm

Where scattered seeds embrace earthen home

Little birds seek your ethereal trace

Words unspoken in tempest’s embrace

Carried forth in mulberry’s gentle fold

I too embark on this searching grace

Each careful step in clay below

Slowly buries thorns of yesterday’s woe

Red berries sleep in Earth’s sweet embrace

Black storks rise from lotus waves aglow

Soaring beyond creation’s highest peaks

Vanishing into the poplar forest

Slowly, beginning from the temple

All melts into distant shadows

Dissolving into unreachable heights

Whispers between Earth and white meteors

***

RAIN WINDOW

Raindrops, escaping the wipers

Crystalize my window

Through this crystalline veil

I divine my destined path

Rising from the pondside path to the distance

Floating from the lifted wheat stalks to the village

Where churches and ancient houses stand

Where chimes echo and rain-kissed windows glisten

Starting from inside the house

Opening rain-drenched windows one by one

My footsteps unlike droplets from branches

Cannot create ripples in puddles

My silhouette unlike roadside grass

Cannot embrace the rain so wholly

Yet I long to push open one more rain window

Stepping into a new world.

***

DREAM OF JOURNEY

Even when awakened

I still sway within the carriage

Moments ago

We journeyed away from our destination

No transition from asphalt to soil

No final tree before the turn

Only distant wild grass and patchwork paths

And the simplest things in the countryside

Yellow wheat, dry channels, and sycamore trees

Mountains not chosen, rivers not included

My heart finds peace on this journey

With a trustworthy driver and myself

We have a destined stop

Indeed, we pause in a new village street

Through the shopfronts, I see clearly

Banquets of strangers under the lights

Meeting friends from my hometown

In an instant

We begin our return, I guard time closely

Bidding farewell to friends, offering banquet wishes

And the ordinary fields along the way

Sparkling before my wandering eyes

I strive to memorize all I see

As it swiftly fades into distance

I’ve always known I’m dreaming

Walking an endless road

Yet filled with familiar matter

Until I open my eyes, beginning to miss

All that I left behind there

Never to return but emerges hazily.

***

MOUNTAINS TEARS

Behold the unwithered

Not clinging to life through affliction

But growing true to their nature

Should winds assail the slopes

They stand, unwavering shields

Observe the withered

Not untimely perished

But exiting with rhythmic grace

Should rains pierce the soil

They face fragmentation fearlessly

Perhaps a desiccated tree’s millennia-old lament

Swallows the mountain’s verdant stoicism

Perhaps a lone grassroots future ember

Ignites the ground’s seasonal unfurling

Ultimately, your chiseled facade

Erodes, bearing your mournful whispers

Your preserved tears

No longer seek recompense

For the droplets shed adorning trees and igniting grass

***

DWARF

The giant and dwarf traverse the tunnel

The giant bows his head

As does the dwarf

Though limited in vision

He fancies his stature immeasurable

Lofty beyond compare

Exiting the tunnel

The giant’s destination is strikingly clear

Mere bends remain, he muses

The dwarf laments mountains ahead

Both fall into a river’s grasp

The giant must raise his head

The dwarf follows suit

The giant seeks salvation

The dwarf gulps water greedily

The giant swims toward the discovered driftwood

While the dwarf…

Becomes forever the beast fed by his arrogance

***

CORNER

From my east-west view of the street

I’ve long been content with my prayers for the sky

The rainbow I see should stretch far

The sunset I see should glow crimson

When I stand in a corner upstairs

North and south passages unfold

The rainbow spans great lengths

But now sea and sky ripple in concert

The sunset burns scarlet

Yet lingering light dances on hidden currents

Some rejoice on distant slopes

Where I see sandbars

They perceive vast bays

Where I observe still waters

They witness surging waves

From my corner perch

I share post-rain skies with others

Those further from worldly dust

Behold scenes more vibrant still

It’s not a lack of imagination

Just an unawareness of the wonders in sight

***

ERA

After moths have eaten through old film reels

We all come to understand

Valleys weren’t just about the eighties

Growing up wasn’t just about the nineties

Success wasn’t limited to the new century’s dawn

An era is a wave

Composed of our different ages

Some rush only at the wave’s front

Mercilessly rejected

Some struggle within the surge

Hidden by turbulent waters

Some fortunate ones catch the wave’s tail

Perhaps thrown toward higher shores

Countless paths in thousand-layered waters

Unknown rises and falls within waves

We pass over our predecessors’ great reefs

Each sinking at unknown smaller reefs

We crash against our forebears’ dark valleys

Each pausing at inexplicable heights

An era is a wave

A wave performing its cyclical tale

***

BIRDSONG

If dappled light forms the contours of gathered rivers

Tree shadows are paper molds pressed into flat earth

Birdsong is nature’s scattered engravings

Each frame of crowd leaves floral prints

Attribution to birdsong masterpiece

Hemp ropes pull taut the sunshades

Fences bind tight the hemp ropes

Only birds sway in carefree leisure

Finding peace within chaos

Erasing rust marks from fences

Concealing the cracking sounds of hemp rope

A solitude within the bright world

I know not where they dwell

Their calls spiral like water weeds

If I had a brush

I’d paint vigorous orchids and woven grass

I’d paint nameless green trees

Reflecting birdsong lingering hues

***

SHADOW 

We shall part ways

From when I learned to soar high

My solid feather pierces through light-bound fields

You grasp it with your ethereal beak

We shall part ways

From when I became aware of bodily skill

My resonant cry sweeps past reed tassels

You soothe with rippling waves

Floating feathers on green lake, our closest distance

Crossing thresholds, we hide in the same world

Under scorching sun you’re the trace by which people notice me

Under moonlight I’m the evidence by which they analyze you

You are my imprint in brightness

I am your metaphor in darkness

When we meet at high window eaves

Anyone can traverse time and space

To remain in this world

***

SYMPHONY OF RAIN

True whispers of the rain

Are leaves trembling from soul to skin

True echoes of the rain

Are latticed windows bowing in gentle din

Rain’s sound is an echo from each corner

With footsteps forever ahead in time

I search for ripples in the haze

Touching springs at journey’s end

Rain’s voice begins with clouds torn asunder

Rain’s voice begins with leaves and tiles struck tender

Rain’s voice remains in puddles’ splash and kindred souls’ embrace

Even without thunder or darkened earth below

This voice and life by life itself is vowed

Rain proves its journey through each pearled collide.

_________________

Coordinated by Angela Kosta Executive Director of the Magazines: MIRIADE, NUANCES ON THE PANORAMIC CANVAS, BRIDGES OF LITERATURE, journalist, poet, essayist, publisher, literary critic, editor, translator, promoter

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