My Joy is as High as the Sky

Wu, Wen-ying

    The Peach-leaf Ferry Crossing and Western Mound Road 1 are bordered by the misty waves. The evening tide has accompanied my broken heart for ten years. I pluck old willow branches again and say farewell to light gulls. As I lean against the tall gazebo alone, I realize that our happiness has faded into the past. A gust of cool breeze suddenly rises. Seen from the shoal, flying sails disappear into the distant mist. Greenness is displayed across the mountain at sunset. The spray and I reveal our shattered spirits together in the reflection of this autumn river.

    I recall the time when I saw you off under the dim candlelight in the magnificent parlor. As you turned back, your sentimental glance was as shiny and beautiful as flowing water. Your bones were made of ice. Your fair hands were flecked with snow. I recall that it was those hands that cut oranges for me revealing your deep care. The wine cup is not yet washed. I wish I could meet you in my dreams. My face is soaked by the remaining tears. It is a pity that an autumn night is spent with sparse rain and the occasional chirps of crickets.

1 Both the Peach-leaf Ferry Crossing and Western Mound Road refer to his ex-wife who left him ten years ago.