Classic Poem

Meeting Dananuoma
June in the mountains the air unstable
In a car heading for Yaya's (mother) orchard at Mamei
Clouds and fog roll over the peak of Dananuoma
Pressing down upon it
Like the ferocious face of a ghost
fleeing a hundred years of captivity
Yutas (grandfather) often mentions how the mountain that
Protects our people was once a battleground
In the days of fighting the Japanese
Winding and rugged, turning again and again
Like an old tortoise dragging its heavy shell
I clamber up to the peak
Just to go home in search of long-lost feelings
Clouds and fog roll over the peak of Dananuoma
Pressing down upon it
The slight cold makes me shiver
Meeting Angels
June in the fields a profusion of flowers
Yaya is wrapping honey peaches in paper bags
Shovel, tribal blade, basket and her stooped back
With no regrets, her youth exchanged for sweat, tears,
and misery
What could equal such beauty?
Not wishing to startle her
I squat and from afar watch silently
If ever there was an angel in this world
Then surely she who has never complained is one
Meeting Azaleas
Every spring when the azaleas blossom on the opposite hill
Yaya is accustomed to shouldering her basket and going there
To pick wild herbs
Whenever she passes that sacred place where she and yaba (father)
plighted their troth

I always see her linger long on the hill
As if I saw her a bashful girl twenty years earlier
Shyly waiting for her sweetheart under a tree
Her eyes have not lost their glow because of age
Her tears, like stars in the night sky, are bright and clear
Finally she understands that pain and suffering separate
the living from those in heaven
This year under that tree I smell
The fragrance of flowers on gusts of cold wind I close my eyes
And can almost see yaba and yaya happy hand in hand
And my tears, like the stars in the night, are bright and clear