I

And the three of us, on a narrow, one-oared
Sampan, swam out of the port of Aberdeen
Into the sea. The waves — thin,
Transparent shells,
Lose their weight and turn into foamy amber
Between British Isles
And China.

The isles — kingdoms for dragons
And miniature runners. With rickshaws, temples, mottos,
With silkworms spinning banners from their innards,
And smiling little Buddhas in the heart of a blue lotus.

Ya-Tang was born here. The peak of that rock —
He points to it with a cherry branch. The rock — his bride.
She sings, a kitten
Meowing.

Patiently, on the smooth sea, swims the night —
A black coffin.

In the black coffin swim my years.
And the Chinese madonna
Keeps on meowing.

— Ya-Tang, where to? I see in him a dwarf,
The dwarf drinks a toast to the pearl bottom of the sea.

— My lord, this is the tavern of wine and love,
Where he jumped out to catch the moon,
The godly Li-Po.

II

The Morning Star lets his star inherit a wave,
The Morning Star lets his morning inherit the sea.
Godly Li-Po unravels the braid around his waist
And dozes off in the pearl tavern, along with him.

A conch is my ear and the conch weeps Chinese.
One-syllable needles fill my hearing.
And differently cries a wave, differently flies a stork —
Where are we, what vision approaches us?

A different sea: a rainbow between us and islands —
Is it after a rain, before a rain? Tell us the secret, Ya-Tang!
Red, split water-strings of his oar splatter gleams,
And go back to the sea, to its indifferent movement.

— Such a rainbow, says Ya-Tang, is not from the rain:
With children on their shoulders, with a spear and a sack of rice,
Chinese swim in the nights of the great land — across,
To dream-islands … and dolphins are fed.

Oh, rainbow, red as an open heart, emblem of Asia,
Did the godly Li-Po, the splendor of all sons,
See you in reality, as I do, or in a dream? —
You gave me a poem on the shores of Aberdeen.

1965