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In
Tiger Balm Gardens
in vermilion concrete
a fabulous hell
for children's amusement,
Play
before demons
chase through their homes
laugh with the Lord of Death
high over Hong Kong.
The
whorl of the thumb
is in the forest,
the
grain of the pine
takes flame to its heart,
red
shatters each edge
while water pools.
Enter
her red chamber
dream of her silk brocade,
transport of picture and poem
like that of clouds and rain.
Know
pleasure early
disillusionment waits
by the door, sorrow
sifting in the red dust.
|
|
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Beyond |
design |
matter |
itself |
|
|
|
complex |
accidents |
of |
green |
|
|
|
cypress |
frays |
olive |
fruit |
|
|
|
a |
meadow's |
bluegrass, |
rank |
|
|
|
weeds |
riot |
above |
the |
|
|
|
void; |
shoots, |
the |
sepals |
|
|
|
and |
blades, |
malachite |
of |
|
|
|
oil-tree |
lupine |
earth |
asters |
Riverbank,
riverbank
water and lee
I
lay my lover
my lover lays me
On
the tangled
grass and clover
I
loosen his black cloth
he my white lace
Behind
rushes and willow
by the ducks and plover
--Kent Chadwick
