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    A Special Place


    Last night, like a dream,

    Hand pulls hand, heart to heart.

    Sit on the mountain and listen

    That graceful poem voice.


    Last night, like in the dream,

    Hand drags hand, heart in heart.

    Gently snuggle that shoulder and listen

    That romantic piano melody.


    Last night, it looks like a dream,

    Hand upon hand, heart by heart.

    Counted stars in the dark sky and listen

    That intoxicated by Norah Jonesís song.


    I wish in the morning to wake into

    That dream ever awake in my life.

    (6/ 08/ 02 in Bay Area, U S A)





    I want to wave hand,

    My hand is difficult to rise.


    I want to say: Good-Bye!

    My mouth is difficult to open.


    Say this is not love, think of love imbued,

    Say this is love, and it is no any idea.(comes to no avail).


    Here remember beside that blue mountain,

    This knotted sentiment, never untie us.


    Say: ďValue your life!Ē I will be back,

    Ask when we meet, and I will wait.

    (18/ 8/ 02 in Alameda, America)



    On my first Spring


    In my first spring,

    Late evening, the shy moon and stars hide into clouds for me;

    Sauntered in the lane; grassplot; and grove.

    That spring dew soaks in my body.


    On my first spring,

    Early morning, the nightingale brings birds cheer to sing for me;

    Flown on the hill; mountain; and top.

    That spring rain sprinkles on my body.


    At my primary spring,

    Later dusk, the oceanís wave melancholyís surf for me.

    Across the strait; bay; and ocean.

    That spring seawaters splash on my body.



    My body enjoys into that spring,

    These all caroused intoxicate on my first spring.


    My singing grows crazy into that

    Springís wind, rain, thunder,

    These sounds blend frenzied acclaim on my first spring.


    (19/ 3/ 03 in London)



    Commotionís heart


    Used to be thinking

    of my home that is many tickets.

    After I tear it -- to open that travel

    And plunge into another strange world


    How many years of this drift,

    How many days of like loneliness,

    That hence back begins again,

    Until I am now just aware.


    I have already forgotten some people I have met,

    Some things follow that wind which is now gone.



    That commotionís heart gently to calm down

    And wearied me so...

    I donít know if have the same fate as you.


    (12/ August/ 03 somewhere on the world)




    How many secrets do I have, you ask me?

    I never have to tell, no one knows.

    Springís flower smiles on the sprig,

    Autumnís leaves follow the wind and fly,

    Count the flowers, leaves will be known.


    How many secrets do I have, you donít need ask me?

    Even when I tell, you donít understand.

    Why that melodious spring wind blows too late,

    Why that sorrowful autumn shower hits the leaves,

    The beautiful flowers have vexation too.



    My secrets I want to speak to you,

    Because you care and are kind to me,

    Why am I alone going into the dusk ?

    Why embrace the light wind and thin rain.

    Lassí affectionateness, how much do you know.


    (18/04/05, CA, USA)



    X X


    Seems near, seems far,

    Who shouts to me?


    Missing, desiring,

    I am unable to breathe.

    (Summer, Bay Area, USA, 2006)


                           Poems & Drawings by Sarah Zhu

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