Allowing the Moonlight on the Seas, to Soothe Our Fatigue

How this woman found that sense of peace she’d longed for, without, going anywhere physically, translated…

Since Strong was born, our lives became, like full glasses of water, with the smallest bumps, our emotions, ran haywire, spilled out, getting all over each other, making us both, defeated.

We’d not only needed to take Strong to exercise regularly, games, walks, massages, meals, baths, sleeping with him, we’d also needed to, keep our small bookshop tidy and clean, to set up the events in and out of the shop, to deal with the returned orders, make the drinks, act as ushers for our guests, to prepare for our classes, the lectures, along with cleaning up the beaches, and other duties that we had, and, we’d had to wait until nine or ten at night, after we’d, put Strong down for bed, can we finally breathe for ourselves, to read or to watch television for an hour, to chat with each other, then, we’d, needed to, sort through the e-mails, the maintain our websites until around one in the morn, are we able to, finally, get to bed, and sometimes, when we get too busy, the two of us, didn’t even share a meaningful conversation.

And, this sort of a busyness of scheduling, it’s easy, to miscommunicate. We’d, often wear that soured expression with each other, take a bad tone of voice when we spoke to one another, getting loud, or, started, nagging. When this happened, we’d, both fallen silent, and get through to one another using the internet, to let the emotions, stay for a bit, around our fingertips, so, the words we’d, lashed out at each other, won’t be so harsh.

If the weather’s all right, I would push Strong in his stroller home by foot, that way, I got to look around the streets, to see the stars up in the skies, and, after I’d gone home, put Strong to bed, I could take a very slow bath, and massage my aching muscles, thinking about, whether or not, I should, keep giving Daddy Strong the silent treatment, or to, break the ice.

Recently, because both our workloads were, increased, Strong’s energy level increased, we’d, gotten into more and bigger conflicts with each other, on adjusting the workload, we’d gotten, easily angered with each other. This day, after we fought, I’d, needed to, take an even slower pace, to walk myself home, lifting my head, saw the round moon, and, it’d, reminded of the book by Ryoji Arai, “The Moon is Full Tonight”.

I’d recalled how whatever he drew, adults, children, or animals, they’re all, watched over by the full moon at night, and, the moonlight made the sky looked like the oceans, cause the waves, in every set of eyes that lifted upward to look, and, it’d, massaged every single life that’s, ended, another hard day’s work, allowing the fatigue mind to rest, the imaginations, run wild. I wanted to be like that whale in the book too, take Strong out on the waves in the moonlight!

I’d also, recalled how when we weren’t so busy, whenever Daddy Strong or I discovered a full moon, whether or not we’re, next to each other, we’d, felt, compelled, to tell it to each other: lifting our heads, we see, the same moon. Remembering how we’d, once driven to the seaside, to see the moon shine on the water.

The moon’s so full tonight, I’m not here, I’m, drifting, floating, on the shiny seas.

And so, this, is this woman’s way of finding her peace, she’d, needed that place she can go, to retreat, and, she’s able to, find it, that sense of calm she’d, desperately needed, in her own mind…

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Missing the Passing of the Seasons, a Poem

Just trekking through life, where life takes you, translated…

Slowly, the Buds of Springtime Became

The Bulrush of Autumn that Swayed

The Rich of the Rivers of Summers Turned

into the Dried Up Branches Over the Rivers of Winter

I’d, Slowly, Approached

Passing Through the Seasons, I Seemed to Know

But, it’s, Still, Very, Far Off

There’s, that scent of, just walking through the seasons of one’s own life, not paying attention to things in particular, but also, keeping that watchful eye of the goings on around you…

Family Trip to Tokyo

A great way, for a memorable journey to a foreign country, planning everything out on your own, allowing the children, to have some inputs on what they wanted to do there too! Translated…

Translated, what we learned, on the trips we took together…

Because of how young our children were, we’d, not traveled abroad for years on end, and now, as my son and daughter are, older, it’s time, to make our moves.

查看來源圖片the ideal vacaton to take your young children, photo from online…

In order to make everybody feel equal to each other, everybody was in charge of one day of travel, and, acted as the tour guide for the day, and, we would, follow the individual’s commands for the day. My three-year-old daughter is in love with Mickey Mouse, I’d discussed with her own touring to Disney; my seven-year-old son had the mind on the toy machines and the arcades, and so, Akihabara is a good choice; the mother of my children set up the transportations for the trip, in the mornings, we alighted the tour bus to the museum district. In the afternoon, we’d gone on the nostalgic electric trains, and, bought the grilled skillets for the children, we gained great reps for it. We’d, encouraged our son to buy the skewers on his own, I’d, intentionally stayed a few steps away from him, captured how he gestured to the Japanese vendors what he’d wanted to buy, this was, a precious experience for him.

As for me, I’d, set up the rare tours not found in the tour guides, we’d gone to visit the campus of Tokyo University, mingled into the cafeterias that the professors and students dined in; after we had our fills, we sat, in the shades of the Yasuda Lecture Hall to rest, my daughter was beat, fallen flat to take her nap, my son took out his sketch book and captured the faces of Tokyo University. In the afternoon, we’d, entered into the Design festa, the twice annually large scale event, with the thousands of booths, of artists, and we’d, bought the handmade art pieces, and, there wouldn’t be, the repeated items of the souvenirs here.

The final day’s theme was family, we’d, gone to the sumo wrestling matches. I’d gone out early, to buy the free seats, but, the seats were, all sold out, and so, I’d, proposed the backup plans, to experience the public bath houses in Japan. As we’d arrived the hundred-year-old Tsuba Meyu, it was, already 8:30 in the morn, there were, only a handful of elderly bathers, the rest, members of the younger generations; there were, handsome young lads who’d, smoothed out their hair to the camera screens, younger generations of women who came in groups, along with us, tourists, who were there, to experience the culture. My two young children couldn’t stand the heat, ten seconds in, they’d, pulled out, and we can only hand them bottles of ice cold milk, and, offered our salute, to the actor, Abe.

On the railroad ride back to the airport, my son used his art, to list out five pros of Japan and Taiwan, one that impressed me the most was my son felt the cohesiveness of the Japanese culture, and he’d, drawn out the nondiscriminatory ways of Taiwan as one of the good qualities, like if one out three men was bald, the other two wouldn’t, make fun. I’d looked at this drawing a lot, and, I’d believed, that that, was his way, of consoling his dad, a man who’d, become bald in midlife.

And so, children have a way, of documenting their own lives, and, all it took here, is a pen and a drawing pad for this young boy, and, a trip like this is, an excellent idea, for the parents to connect with their young, especially now, that summer’s here, there’s, NO better time, to plan a family trip such as this one with your children.

family vacation at Tokyo Disney…photo from online…查看來源圖片

Memories, Four Poems

The philosophies of this earthly life, translated…

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  1. Memories are Like Moss

The Mountains Used the Bird Calls to Name it

My Time Became a Spore

Asleep, Deep Inside

The Evening Fogs Wrapped the Roses in Flames

The Drizzles Fell Endlessly

You are, My Stay

a Small Pathway

in that Shoreside without the Lights

This, is how much, you’d, relied on that certain someone, to keep you steady, to have that place where your hearts can go, to find that safe place in the world…

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The Memories are Like the Running Streams

Washing at the Rocks in the Midst

I’m that Foam that Turned Repeatedly

Adding to the Fishes that Swam in the Streams

The Night, in the Sounds of the Streams

Journey in Secret on My Own

Passed Through that Wild Forest

Becoming the Clouds Up in the Mountains

You are, the Starry Night Skies of the Open Plains

with the Eyes, Hidden

The Plains Became the Illuminated Bosoms

Brought the Air of You in the Dawn

And so, waiting for someone, to return, is what this felt like, and, everything is still, very much alive in your memories, the love you and that someone special had, shared from before, it’s, still, right there, inside your heart and your mind!

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The Memories Like the Sand

Filled with the Scars of Autumn

Your Bones, Turned into Smaller Hills

Your Skins, Became the Rivers

Leading the Way for the Tears

Spread Out the Wrinkles of Time

The Wind Blew Through a Decade

and Another

Your Bones Like the Hills

Skin, Like the Rivers

Memories, Like the Sands

Even as the Wind Stopped, the Needles from the Pines Still, Fell All Over the Places

And so, no matter what, memories will be lost, there’s, just NO way, to stop the progressions of time, and, as we are all older, things are, lost, the memories, slowly, gone by the day…

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The Memories are, Like the Gates, into the Mountains

Swaying Between, the First, the Second, and the Third Doors

Looking into the Greens

Finding that Monastery

The Memories are like the Dojos

After the Morning Chants, come the Noon Chants, then the Evening Chants

After the Chants, the Repentance

Came the Chimes from the Bell

The Wind, the Rain Raged on, Turning the World Dark

The World Became, an Endless Wetland

Something, Hidden Deep, into the Waters

Something, Buried, Deep, in the Earth

And so, this, is where we all end up, as dusts and dirt, and, the memories we have of this world that we’d, carried with us up until we pass away, will all be buried, with our bodies that had, stopped working…

The Gifts of Surprise from My Husband

The gifts this woman received from her husband, it’s still, the HEART that counts, more than what she’d, received from him, translated…

At the start of the month, my husband came to me with a package, with that mischievous smile, said, “here, consider this, a Mother’s Day Present”. It was still, over fifteen days from Mother’s Day, I’d, looked at this package, with unknown content, flashed my awkward smile at him, and, I was, reminded of how, he’d, surprised me from before.

One day, he’d placed a bar of soap looking all excited on my desk, told me, “here, the soap is made with nanotechnology, it can clean things deeply, take away the dirt, it’s also, antiseptic, can become this protective film on your hands, it’s, from the newest nanotechnology.” It was, as if, I was, hearing an infomercial, I’d thought, “How dirty am I, that I’d, needed something like this, to wash myself”, I’d, rebutted, “I don’t CARE what special effects it had, I only care about if I smelled! And, why did you, give me soap?” At this time, he’d, stuttered, “Didn’t you tell me you liked the various scented soaps? Happy Valentine’s Day!”, I’d, gazed over at the calendar on the walls, and, it’d, hit me.

illustration from the papers online…圖/黃鼻子

There was once more, after my husband returned from his business trip, he’d, pulled out a small box as he came home, to give to me, I’d, opened up the box, and, gazed at the necklace with the pendant, and, I’d, pondered, that the object looked, like an animal, and, my son moved in, and stated, “Why is this duck so black?”, my husband immediately leapt up, stated, “How can this be a duck? The neck of a duck is way shorter, it’s a swan, can’t you see, the longer neck on it?” He’d gloated, “You’d told me, that your necklaces turned black after you’d worn it for long, but, this black swan is originally black, so, even if it’d become rusted, you can’t tell!”, after I’d heard, should I not, laugh hysterically, at how well-thought out it was of him?

Coming back to that package in my lap, I’d, opened it, it was, a navy blue piece of cloth, as I’d, tried to figure out what it was, my husband started, doubting what he’d, bought, and, immediately, searched for that photo that’s, caught his eyes online, it took him some time, to finally find the display on a model, and, I’d, put it on, but, as soon as my daughter saw, she’d, pointed at me, said, “Mom, you are, wearing an apron?” Don’t know if it was that I’d lacked that flair, or if the clothes were, mistaken for something else, anyways, the two of us, started laughing, with my husband, lost, in his own mistakes.

In the days of getting mixed in with the nitty-gritty of life, it’s, easy to construe our partners into another us, and, we’d, taken things for granted, and, life became, nothing but routines. And yet, these surprise gifts from my husband became like a “pause button”, in the interesting misunderstandings, I saw his true heart, and, we’d, both gotten, reminded of how important we are, to each other in life.

I’d, found one day, put on that mysterious skirt with the suspenders, put on the black swan necklace, seeing how satisfied my husband looked when he gazed upon me, like he was, seeing a world class beauty!

And so, this, is how thoughtful the husband was toward this woman, he’d wanted to give her something to show her that he loves her, and, there were, times when she’d, misunderstood him, and, yet, it still, didn’t take away from the love the man showed toward his own wife.

Flustered

You broke me!…查看來源圖片like this???  Sketch found online…

From a blog in Chinese I’m a subscriber to, translated, by me…

On the Green Pastures

I’d, Lost My Self

During the Long & Winded Season of Rain

I’d, Allowed Myself Go

On a Night, Populated, by No Other

查看來源圖片hurt, doesn’t it???  Sketch found online…

Thought I Could, Forget………

But I’d Become, Red-Eyed

the Moment I’d, Met You

You’d, Walked Right Through Me

I Know I Should, Give Up

But, I Stood Still

in the Crossing

Staring, at Your Backside

And so, this, is how someone TORTURES oneself, the person your in love with no longer loves you, but you can’t, quite let him go yet, and, there’s, nothing you can do, but to just, wait, and cry, as hard and as frequently as you may need to, until one day, that person, no longer roused up any sort of an inkling of an emotion from you again, then, you’d, successfully, gotten over the person!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flustered

From a blog in Chinese I’m a subscriber to, translated, by me…

On the Green Pastures

I’d, Lost My Self

During the Long & Winded Season of Rain

I’d, Allowed Myself Go

On a Night, Populated, by No Other

Thought I Could, Forget………

But I’d Become, Red-Eyed

the Moment I’d, Met You

You’d, Walked Right Through Me

I Know I Should, Give Up

But, I Stood Still

in the Crossing

Staring, at Your Backside

And so, this, is how someone TORTURES oneself, the person your in love with no longer loves you, but you can’t, quite let him go yet, and, there’s, nothing you can do, but to just, wait, and cry, as hard and as frequently as you may need to, until one day, that person, no longer roused up any sort of an inkling of an emotion from you again, then, you’d, successfully, gotten over the person!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Winning, is Being Happy

The philosophy of this visually impaired street performer’s life, translated…

She said, “I have flexible schedule, we can go out for coffee anytime you want to……”

We’d arrived at a café she loved, and, we were careless, spilled the coffees, the owner of the shop quickly went to get the dishrags, “no, it’s not necessary, I’ll wipe it myself!” the two of us were like in a race, before the shop owner got back, we’d, wiped the table off with the napkin, she was so happy she’d, won, she’d, let out a hooray!

Being completely blind, she’s a street performer, and only worked on the two days of the weekend, just like she’d told me, work wasn’t busy one bit, there would be five days of the week that belonged to just her, “I loved to sing, not to be famous, just hoped, that I have the chance to perform for someone is all.”

As she’d started performing, she’d only sung her favorite songs, later, she’d told her audience, “You can make a request, and see if I know it”, this small turn was like how the chef hated chopping the onions, but for the sake of his guests, he’d still needed to do it.

There would be the period of time when she’d just talked before she’d performed, completely matched her character, her mode of work was she’d sung a song, then started a monologue, sometimes, she’d struck up a conversation with a member of the audience.

“Do you like your job?”

She’d raised up her pitch, “I love it, I’m very happy, I can be, free as I wish!”

She’d worked hard singing, at least, keeping this lifestyle going. Although it’s quite hard for someone who’s visually impaired to live, but it’d not, troubled her one bit.

Actually, I’d come into contact with a lot of street performers, on the sunny days, it was all right, but on the rainy, it was, like going to war, “Yeah, happened a couple of times.” If it were a sudden downpour, it’d, made the performers panic, especially when the equipment are expensive, but there would always be the kind souls, that came to help. And her cart, containing all of her necessities, electric keyboard, microphone, electric bottle, a set of stereos………over thirty kilograms in weight. Naturally, she couldn’t, possibly haul it all out on one try by herself, so she’d, split the items up into six, seven trips, and as she’d moved the equipment, she’d, hollered aloud, “Excuse me, excuse me”, walked to about ten minutes away to take a cab, and, after she got out of the cab, she’d moved the equipment onto the trolley, with the cane, moved to her spot, set the items up. As for the route she took, she’d learned from a visually impaired professor, it wasn’t hard for her. After she was done performing, she’d put up all her equipment, the placed them onto the cart, then, went to the place where the cabs were waiting in shifts……………I’d become dizzy, just hearing her tell of it, but, she’d stated, with that steady tone, “Although it’s hard, but I love it.”

查看來源圖片here’s a photo of a street performer, from online…

She kept stressing, that this, was her ideal job, although she’d only worked two days per week, and not made quite enough money, but she really, loved it. “I look forward to the weekends everyday, that way, I can, head out happy, to sing for others……” Her voice was infectious, and, she’d not just carried that lifted tone when she said “happy”, her face was, smiling too.

That was, enough, being happy, is winning in life.

And so, this, is how easily satisfied this woman is, she’d needed very little, just to do what she enjoyed, performing in front of others, for what little money she could make. Job satisfaction is EVERYTHING, if you don’t enjoy what you’re doing, no matter how well it pays, it’s, still a DRAG!!!