好好好 - A poem to my mother [CH]/[EN]

I love you mamma.

我長大想像媽媽
她每次都叫「拉拉」

「你要對自己好好
記得這個最重要」

「不要隨便恨別人
要愛朋友與家人」

「不要隨便亂花錢
不要吃太多泡麵」

「要記得打給爸爸
要記得好好唸書」

「傷心的話要說」
可不要太囉唆」

「我辛苦把你養大
因為我以前害怕
你們會像我一樣
為難吃苦得長大」

「現在你們真“lucky”啊!
你看媽媽的臉就知道
我有呢麼的驕傲
你們的命多美妙。」

所以呢,
我這生命 一定要好好的活
都靠我媽 我才能好好的過
對我們的愛 她給我們太多。

可以一樣的話
我沒別的追求。

[EN]

When I grow up
I want to be like my mamma.

Everytime, she would say, “Sarya-

You have to treat yourself good
As great as someone smart would,

Do not randomly hate others.
Care for your family and lovers.

Do not waste too much money
Don’t eat instant noodles only.

Remember to call your father
Keep your skills up in order

Be open about sadness
But don’t subject into crassness.

I worked hard to bring you up
Because I used to be afraid
That you would be raised like me,
Struggling and jaded

Now, you guys are so lucky!
Just look at my face to know
How proud I am that
Your lives are blessed.”

For this reason,
I will live this life to the fullest it can be.
For my mother,
I will live it properly
For the amount of love she gives us
Is ridiculous…

And if I could do the same,
It’d be sufficient.

Sentimentality Hour: The only advice I’d ever give:

To I.G., for the kind words. 

You should always make a cup of tea
For it is comforting

You should always wear something comfy
That allows you to be free

You should always make the effort to see
Your friends and family

You should even admire simple trees
Or the sea smells in the breeze

You should try to agree
to disagree
To open closed mentalities

You shouldn’t always aim to please
And sacrifice individuality

And lastly,
You should never have to be alone
if you don’t want to be

Make a cup of tea
Put on something comfy
Look at the trees
Or watch a movie
And aim only to please
yourself-

You
Are
Wonderful.

And everyone else
Should see that.

But if company is what you lack,
Head on back into my arms,
I’ll protect you from the harm
That solitude often brings.

Though being alone is fine,
So long as you are happy-

But you should never have to be alone
if you don’t want to be.

Doctors

Pull the tops like cow udders
Frothy essences that fuel our lives
That can develop monsters inside
those with fragile minds.

This drunkenness reminds
How simple thinking can be;
Am I set free when I am at ease
only after three shots of vodka
please?

Another gin and tonic
And my brain can freeze
So I can start talking to the moon
And the trees-

And I will find paradise on the wet streets
And I will forget about making ends meet.

I’ll make the moon my lover
Who cannot be beat,
And I’ll drink myself
Another few treats.

Better than flesh or meat.
From my hair to my feet
Rosy cheeks and the heat-
Doctor, give me the treatment.

I’ll drink myself to dreams
as a statement:
This is my happiness replacement.

Rooftops

Each window is like an open eye
That peers shyly onto the moon
Whose covered by a sheen of gloom
As she watches over the sky

And all the chimneys are also here
Which indicate a once warm hearth
That only have aesthetic worth
Who’ve yet, with time, to disappear

Pedestrians are just tiny ants
That slave to continue on their day
Their size and look does not display
The dreams and hopes that talking grants

And I, alone, stood on this roof
Observes the pass of natural night
Tries to configure what’s wrong or right
Without being too much aloof

I turn off the lights
And close my eyes
And try to convene with others

I lose the fights
And see sunrise
And think of all my lovers

Wishing that
Inside my dreams
Luna has also gazed at me

And that she watches over me
To put insecurity at ease.

This is the plight of an insomniac romantic-
Sleep deprived, emotionally frantic,

But I still feel rather fantastic
Despite all these existential antics.

Images

Kaleidoscope images transfixed into your heart
Projected In crystal irises
Gazing into me
Piercing internal glee
Squirming onto a plane of reality

The way a movie is shown on screen
Translating a visual anomaly
To be loved and seen
Clear and pristine
That cannot quite be
Captured in words
Exactly

The way music is played
To strum a string
That only exists internally
That makes a body twist and scream
In anguished
torn cacophony

A symphony of emotion
Exploded in kinds
I do not really understand
Until I get to hold your hand
The function of touch
Starts to make sense

The epiphany
Breaking my lenses
And destroying the fences
Meant to protect

Which moves in beauty
Others will not show
Unless they come to intimately know
How flowers grow
How the wind blows

Cultivating a kind of personal art
Exhibiting a luscious glow
Sparking and inspires,
Wildly admired-

Wherever you choose to go.