I so enjoyed having Hilda Tam and Chris Song at Carol’s Table. I worked with Hilda on a cross-cultural project years ago. She is a fine novelist, who introduced me to Chris, an equally fine poet. Both are translators. Chris has translated Les Murray’s poetry for a Chinese audience. We spoke of the importance of reading the literature of other cultures as a way of finding ways into each other’s hearts and minds.
Chris wrote a poem in Chinese while he was staying in the Blue Mountains. Hilda translated it into English for me.
Taking a walk in the Blue Mountains
for Carol Major
the garden is strange You look
where I’m casually pointing as if exploring
the garden’s secret a pine tall and isolated
one side facing the street is bald and bone white
the other facing the house is green and leafy
I believe behind the evergreen are always hidden
other colours He tries hard to confess
but words are only half exhaustive perhaps we were so alike
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of this Blue Mountains town is half revealed Mind
still in autumn whilst body in late spring I find
my other self in the equator-crossing
time difference like this odd tree in front of us
would overgrowth accept bone white? would words written
change to unknown strokes? I ask
life is full of enmity in the diverging revelation
off-key accent is heard you think about the past
passing over the ocean time and again a unique accent
was nurtured in the crossing no one in town knew where you came from
perhaps we should learn from this tree live with
our opposite selves in obscurity until one day turn to see a new leaf
October, 2016 in Katomba, Blue Mountains
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