Poetry / December 2017 (Issue 38)


To the Zither

by Chris Song in both Chinese and English versions

They don't let you swipe your card. They don't let you play.
They force you to read the MTR by-laws. You shall play
smart. Don't do it. Say boo. Don't fall into their trap.
 
Because they'll set you up again and measure
your vertical height. Once you speak,
you'll be blacklisted. Once, unfortunately
 
you're in the train, you shall take cover, hide among
travel grey backpacks, grey good traders' luggage,
learn the art of infernal affairs. Once caught
 
don't panicked. Don't burn the zither. Be pliable.
Expediently. Burn the policy address to make breakfast;
Late for school, say there was signal failure.
 
In the class, you shall be patient, do the math
study music theory. One day you shall play
lethal notes into the ear of power and make it bleed
 
fare adjustment formulaically.
 
 
致古箏

他們不許你入閘,不許你彈奏
逼你讀港鐵條例。你要醒目
不要入閘,也不要當他唱歌。因為

他們會再耍詭計,測量你立起的
高度。一旦發出反對的聲音
就會被列入黑名單。一旦不幸

入閘,你要學會隱藏自己
學會無間道,躲在背包客背後
水貨客身邊。被發現也不要驚慌

不要做焚琴的浪子,要懂得變通。
微明時舉火記得找施政報告
返學遲到記得說信號故障

在課堂上要有耐心,學習數學
和樂理,將來把致命的音樂
彈入權力的耳朵,讓他流出

可加可減的血。
 
 
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ISSN 1999-5032
All poems, stories and other contributions copyright to their respective authors unless otherwise noted.