1918

We call it

wolf tooth moon;

I raise my glass,

drink my fill of wind and snow.

Cycles of revolution by

intoxicated mortals

in this drunken era,

your grand plans are like

three thousand streams

of fresh water flowing east.

All the books of history

have scattered to dust,

I use my lack of regrets to

carve a tablet of devotion.

(You manifest into a butterfly)

If you squander this life away,

I raise my glass of wine

and promise to do the same

(so you are never alone);

I drink in wind and snow.

© Alicia Khoo

NaPoWriMo Day 17

Poem inspired by my translation of a contemporary, neo-classical Mandarin love song,

Fa Ru Xue (Your Hair is Like Snow) by Jay Chou

Music video found here:

Enjoy! 🙂

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12 thoughts on “1918

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