by Li Ya Ren 黎雅仁

Ulysses

(a wanderer like you)

A-broad, broad chest, shown

not in measure,

a-way, way from home, trodden

not in measure,

--according to the letters in his pocket:

but in a mind telling stories,

--of colors, of diversities,

--of equal intensity.

Before a leaf matures,

with gratitude and regret,

“Ciao! My friend,“ he says.

Does it end? Or does it begin?

A bone, alone, on loan,

loaded with kilos of languages n mortgages

takes a leaf of friends'-ship

 floating on the diamond sea

Before a leaf matures,

with gratitude and regret,

“Ciao! My friend,“ he says.

Does it end? Or does it begin?