While we both sitting on the valley,
When your inner thoughts
appeared in your eye suddenly，
With the tears of a girl far home-away
To stare at the sky,
There was a muse
Of the world or a star on the clear sky.
While you the beautiful eyes dimed under
long suffering，flashed as fires on wisps of grass
in the wild field flaming ；
While you hit upon the years
The waste by echoing played smiling
To me, but you could not help the tears out welling.
The years when the dusky light behind it
With their clinging vows yet to root
Blew from the Alps, beside the Wisteria roses
in its' fresh beauty of blossom；so easy
And quiet in this coffee room. Through a window his
Gaze wandered forward on the blue-clouds' skies.
The faraway mighty mountains dimly
Towering beneath this serene sky.
Cao gave a laugh to the old friend with
Setting his heart on these words:
“Qi-Chang, I have traveled around in
Europe, Seeing Mountains always
Makes me think of Korea. More than
A half-century has gone when
Three young comrades’ been in a tunnel
Of Five-Sage mountain (Yang Yi-yun, Jiang-Hui and me)
Against death-covered the Battle
Of Triangle Hill, swore for the life-long:
“Fifty years after this war
If luck is all there is to it
We can meet in Shanghai city.
Each of us sitting there must tell own the stories
As gather small brooks together towards a big river.
“The time in light and dark, over land and water,
Keeps running off, but our feet with a kind of insane
Clarity still on
The road of deep snow and searing heat.
Yang Yi-yun became my wife and nearly made
Me into the jaws of death;
Doctor Jiang Hui was hidden in a shade
For whom looking so many years as
With dew a tall grass drenched.
A world keeps narrowing and broadened:
No trace of wonder is yet to come.
“Long walked on the soul-suffering road,
My body blood-striped and No turned away.
Yet no more words to say about,
Let it hide someway and die anyway.
“Face your asking today
That makes me awake, being out of a dream.
On the way in Europe journey,
Real or not, like a dream, encounter you and me.
In spite of millions of inspiration of poetry,
At the moment, my brain with thoughts in it as
A shiver of trees then nothing is stirred.
“Asking heaven, asking the earth and sea,
And, the wind blows,
Trees rustle, clouds beset harmless;
Thousand times of knocks of memories' door
Like the water dripping crushed on a stone.
“Walked away from the hammering battlefront,
Mountains disappearing beyond the present;
the wounds have turned me the University，
Returned back a scholar, useless:
A start line I was scarcely to leave and
Struggled on a path covered with forlorn leaves.
“One fighting day of that year I went
To the westward-mountain for an assignment
But fatedly wounded by enemy's bullet;
Lied on the downhill- field aid station and eyed
Our troop rushing upon the top of the West, upward
Gazing those steep trails of it, pity I was very lost.
“And now I have been on a desolate field on
Which somewhere I lost a piece of shrapnel
Bloodstained upon reflection
Of those memories, as fresh thriving grass
Ethereal revealing itself like flesh
To comfort those past lives,
Those burning nights,
To have a dialog, unanswered, to the
Dust of those died soldieries
In a strange land, or survived ones through the war.
“The only person whom I have life-long loved,
In the end, she was forced to hurt me;
The one whom I had hurt wrongly yet
Is the only one who really loves me.”
Gazed on Cao, with silent eyes,
Qi-Chang said：“in the year 1998，I went
Back to China to the Wu-Tai mountains to burn incense;
There was a Buddhist nun met who was
The doctor Jiang-Hui; my memories bend beside me.
“Re-picturing an angle on Korea battlefield,
She was and had rescued your life and of mine,
Also, many wounded soldiers amid hails of bullets;
But now her secret amid converted incenses
Of the Buddhism”
After hearing what Qi-Chang said
In a sense Cao's feelings
Suddenly got the worst
Of him, or, be near it, never less.
He is a gifted man, with his mind’s horse
Being too busily galloped on the vast field;
Now re-picturing with her the met-scene,
The often-dreamed friend
In the spring-Pen of Suzhou before the last year
At the moment he was in muse whole-hearted,
The lined brow seemed more lined.
Might he recall the days in Korea
When Jiang-Hui daily cleaned his wound
Inside the icy-snow caped bunker; or thought
To think of a true love heart,
Yet sighing inward warmth ignored;
And in the Suzhou before last year when they met
Once more, he was going to do wonders, but didn't,
Merely hid true burning feelings burned.
My dear readers, you may ask that
How Cao Mu-yun had met Jiang-Hui in Suzhou?
That I can tell you about the reasons in the next
Chapter and why
And what has made them being apart once more.
Now let us eye the man Qi-Chang who
Was too many years of being all roved,
He gazed at Cao Mu-yun, and lost in thought
That lent to his eyes at whiles a look,
Sympathy and comfort.
“You usually know me very well,
Cao that even I didn’t have much schooling before
But sure Yang Yi-ping had been our army's idol.
You both as a Gift soul to make a family in a longer
Run which should be second none,
Instead of in every deep of tragedy ，
How could that happened？”
To the inquisitive words and his guarded glance
The suffering made Cao Mu-yun self
Want to cry but without tears;
Want to shout but without sounds.
After a while he said to him:
That year that given day,
His wife Yang Yi-ping wrote down
Something on her thought-honored documents
Given to the Party that brought him a sprinkling
Of other uncalled–for misfortune. He was
Yet swept to be one of Right-Wing,
Yet shifted to a labor-farm, yet forced
Her to be “divorced”
When he was jailed.
As a leader of the art college,
In the Great Culture Revolution if being called
As were-dog of capitalism, YI-ping suffered a lot
Of humiliation of day in and day out,
It but herald Death at last
In the safe haven of myopic self-destruction
Of rolling waves of the Yellow River:
Revolution was in the stirred air.
Now he heard his own voice:
“Our lives struggling in the net of fate
Lost in vain flashed as the nightmare within scars
Carved on my heart with a spine. Never forget that
seeing the summer roses in green leaves of her;
The Winds along the Xihu and Yan-Tai sea beach
Bear her pretty. Even clouded my aged memories,
But rejoice self lying beneath an evergreen mind-tree.
“My friend, full fellow-feeling and sideburn-white,
You and I, our lives just
Let it go like the rolling waves of the Yangzi River
But yet like the yellow current
Keeps flowing-tricks, a succession of a nine-bend.
“You have been dating mountains and I the sea.
In 1994, immigrated to Australia as
A turning-leaf of my life.
Now living in a city garden-like,
Or called as a citified garden if you like；
Its four sides surround the blue seas.
The sky so clear and water,
As a colored pear
The southern continent sets in the sea
We have lost our own ration of luck, lost
The key to open mountains' door;
Letting our souls merely wait
One day when a new age comes near.
“Of being traveled around too many
Years in many countries, but justice
Little expected to overlook my poor voice.
Today see waves have whitened my sideburns,
And hunted the rhetorical, hanging about there,
—still keep on my solemn oath
The youth-honored vows,
Something special from the raging battlefield,
Be in-living determination as honest.