Some Little Thoughts

Say what you will, of politics and men,
Complain that the sun no longer feels the same
As in days of yore, when a language was spoke,
Refined at a far-distant shore. Then, look at the sea
In the clear morning’s light and ask: What is more beautiful
Than nature’s gifts: The sparkling harbour;
The sun, kissing wavelets, resembling diamonds,
Rising from the sea.
And, then, I hold your hand in mine and think:
Hongkong, my home, this is where I want to be. 

This is where I want to be,
Now, and forever more. Of politics and men,
I have little use, as man vies with his fellows
In order to induce support for mandates, near forgot.
But, as boats criss-cross water lanes,
The harbour still pure of man’s arrogance and pride,
I mark the beauty of this sight
And, captivated by such grandeur, hear my heart say:
Beauty and truth are one; we cannot but be moved by such splendour,
As welcome as is brilliant day, following the calm and softness of the night. 

The lone junk, which threads its way
Between the lighters and the ships at rest,
Knows it is past years’ sail, surely,
Yet, still, it does not fail to knit
The tapestry, which is Hongkong: The old, married to the new;
The miracle that gives delight to the young, the many and the few.
And, when the sun descends behind the hills
And it is time to rest and recollect,
No doubt, shall I contemplate about my fellow man,
A thought which, sadly, no longer thrills. 

The child, who gently sucks at its mother’s breast,
Soft little fingers, caressing warm white flesh;
Life personified in the babe at rest.
Feed the world and be blessed by the need,
Which, from mother to child continues to be
That which is honest, beauteous beheld.
Come nearer to me, child of my life!
Let my arms enfold you, hold you, dress you in yellow silk,
Feed you and, always, be true to you.
Come: Drink of my teat, it is among Asia’s sweetest milk!