From Po Wah Yuen

From Po Wah Yuen

On the other side of the world,
on the other side of the day
my black-haired love is sleeping.

In a city without a name,
in a house without a number
my brown-eyed love washes dishes.

Bound by debts I almost understand,
trapped by her obligations and her honour
my vanished love gets through her days.

And I, here on this empty, crowded island
shroud myself in my loneliness, my selfish need.
Bewildered by ignorance and distance

I have just one certainty - that she is crying
there, in that anonymous city
on the other side of the day.

March, 2005