Carpe diem!
Dead Poets Society NMH
My junior year, I took on the role as the leader of this beloved community when our previous leader and founder abruptly left the school.
In this club, young poets explore an arrange of different genres and themes. I created a social media account to display the works of members and spread our love for poetry, and compiled seasonal magazines and led literature nights with the local all-girls high school—Stoneleigh Burnham.
Displayed are pieces I have composed during my time in the club—and a farewell present for the founder, Jessica.
01
To Err is Human
To err is human, to forgive, Divine. You say.
but what about the Dooming Dawn,
the Flood, the Twister pulling
mountains and clouds and stars and
What about
the Tears trickling down the Angel’s Cheeks,
Your cheeks, that I cannot wipe away
even if my fingers melt?
What about
the Apple falling from the sky
eating my teeth, my gums, my heart
until I am but an appleseed in my hollow skin?
What
when I lap up your tears
and out of me sprouts a leaf
then stem
then branch
then a blossom.
Who grew your apples? You ask.
Look up. My lips speak.
For to err is divine, and to forgive,
Human.
02
hair/gay panic
There’s something striking about her fiery red hair
Her ghostly pale face
and the green headphones she wears
around her ghostly pale neck that makes
(A flurry of flames against dancing snow
and the lifted curtains of an evil smirk
Grin? Sneer? Beautiful, anyway.)
me want to bury
my face in her ginger forest
her snow-covered mountains
Her red smile
Her hazel eyes
And hear her laugh forever and ever.
There’s something lulling about her fluffy bush of brown
Her silvery smile
and the glinting crystal on the side of her nose—
A crooked mountain ridge, perfectly pointy, pointing
(Hair as soft as fur and floaty, unkempt
intentionally, she lets me in, the secret is gel and hair mud but
I still want to play with them till I fall asleep.)
me to plant a kiss
down the tip
up her porcelain cheek
on those lips that let out my soul’s lullaby
That brings the world back into tune
back into time
and my heart would bloom.
There’s something chilling about
her black bangs that cast those
black shadows onto her
black eyes that talk to me in my dreams
And her chapped lips always parted
always chirping
never for a smooch but repeats
(Strands straight and thick like straw
but when she cuts
Them from waist to neck they fly up, up
Like those stars shot into the night sky,
the immigrants of the universe.)
my name like it is the morning dew rolling across
a single red threading across
that spot between her eyes across
from mine. My lies that she hides.
16, our fingers had tried
to intertwine but I
whined and said
It wasn’t fine.
She was fine.
They were fine.
Not I.
03
To Get IN
Must u fit urself tight in a dewdrop down
the gurgling throat of what they call
life?
Must that life be mounted down a count
of 2000 words, no grammar mistakes,
as if there are only gives and no takes,
crispy & crunchy like the snap of an apple
but sweet and tough enough to appease?
To what? Those holy herds of smiling
nodding machines across the room
behind the screen, that pump u
up like a balloon,
then send u sputtering sprawling
spewing your dignity
over the floor with a tiny prick?
Should u find urself slouching,
slumping upon completion of ur
grand soliloquy, gasping
beneath layers of
self-advertisement—
just break ur mind.
Ur armored dewdrop is bound to explode.
Who says u can’t suffocate their throats?
04
View from the Temple Roof
I look up and ask
What is the view like
Up, up, on the temple roof?
Which one do you mean,
the stars reply
eyes blinking curiously into mine
We see infinity up here
have more clarity.
Is it the one with the pitch-black roof
tiles upon tiles till no seam is visible;
sharp corners piercing the sky till
they reach the clouds’ domain.
In the tense city of Shanghai it stands, red
brick pressing into brick before
Emperors were born before
mothers wept before eventually
stars on a bloody flag
devoured the prayer beads.
Is it the one with the snowy-white roof, no
apologies, it used to be white
marble pillars standing on the green field, supporting
nothing. The roof never survived
the same beast that killed
the paintings that told of
the gods and goddesses and a mountain in the sky—
The Greeks’ stories,
their history.
Or is it the temple,
the stars blink and ask,
that sits in the sea of purple flowers
the door creaking gently with every nudge
the candles flickering with every breeze
the rooms large enough for dancing and
small enough for curling into a ball and
feeling the walls around you.
With windows that release the music and let in
cicadas, toads, crickets,
pink clouds seared by the setting sun,
evening wind fragranced by the willows,
golden ripples dancing in the creeks
and us.
But that is no temple, I say.
- Ah, but have you seen it before?
- Only in my dreams.
- Does it nurture?
Does it embrace?
And does it give faith?
Whispers of starlight slip down the roof.
I swim through the lavender and climb up the house
leaving traces of petals where ages sprout
and I sit next to the stars.
I see
the pitch-black roof striking the sky,
the caryatids of a history crying in the rain
but they are not lonely.
I see faces smiling up at sculptures,
palms clasping beads and beads clasping wishes
I see foreign languages flowing down the paper,
tears and laughs of love and sorrow weaving
into the river of time, and above them
fingers pinching pens so tightly their tips turn white.
And I see a girl sitting barefoot
hair dancing like a plume
eyes closed but mind wide open
a poem, a song
rolling on the tip of her tongue
ready to burst free
Up, up, on the roof of a temple
a wooden roof
that never dies.
Knowing You.
translated poetry song · Bu
This is an ongoing project with my best friend, Ivy, who has an uncanny passion for reading and writing Chinese poetry and verse. In this collaboration, we cross-translate each other’s works with an attempt to, at our best, preserve each other’s original style and language.
Deviating from the traditional translation of ancient Chinese poems to English—direct translation by phrases that focus on meter and rhyme rather than a unique voice—I seek maximum preservation of Ivy’s elegant style and poetic scenery-building by choosing more freedom in structure. I incorporate elements of modern poetry into the translation, adding my own touch to the English version with a deep understanding of the poet’s artistic choices.
This is a visceral conversation between two deeply resonating souls in the language of poetry.
鹧鸪天·想睡觉
步瑞茜
草色连天凝水洼，春痕深浅入人家。数声黄雀隐青霭，料峭薄寒轻雨花。
惊午梦，日偏斜，如何一枕即天涯？暮光宛转风林动，细雨朦窗作绿纱。
01
Zhehutian | Craving Sleep
Translation by Aurora Song
In the stillness of puddles,
grass melts into the sky,
drawing strokes of the blooming spring
into awaiting eyes
Siskins chirp behind the leaf-stained mist,
Flashes of feathers hidden from sight.
Petals weave into patterns of rain,
A chilly drizzle with a delicate sigh.
Oh! To drift off at noon
and startle by the setting sun—
how does the pillow carry me,
dreaming, from dusk to dawn?
The wind sweeps the trees
carrying whispers of twilight.
Raindrops as needles, the window
sewn into an emerald light.
02
浣溪沙·金阙歌台砌芙蓉
步瑞茜
金阙歌台砌芙蓉，桂薪飘惹散香风。骢马千里却相逢。
靡靡彩灯人去后，阁中漫漫粉钗浓。画皮画骨画德功。
Huanxisha | Hibiscus at the Stage
Translation by Aurora Song
The Golden Palace stage is decked with hibiscus,
Cassia wood burns, scattering perfumed winds.
Even astride a fine steed, a thousand miles, we meet again.
Gaudy lanterns fade when the crowd is gone,
The tower chokes with heavy rouge and jeweled pins.
You paint your skin, your bones, but never your virtue or merit.
树的梦
步瑞茜
在一个很静很静的夜晚，
上古已经敢睡。
只有月亮任由月光
在山谷的脉搏里流淌。
就是在这样的一个晚上，
在离日出最近的土坡上：
一棵树，
做了一个梦。
梦里的夜晚比今晚还要安静。
树在梦里看见了自己：
它看见自己碎了，
裂成了无数的片段。
树碎了。
于是，
风把一部分它推向天空；
水将一部分它流向海洋；
雪将一部分它掩在身下；
动物们也拉着它去各种地方。
树有些着急，
它向它们喊：
“请还给我！
请把我还给我！”
山谷沉默了很久，
似乎是在思考自己的回应。
第一个回答它的声音来自地下，
地下的泥土说：
“对不起，我无法还给你。
因为你一直在这里。
我们曾一起见证沙漠中第一颗绿芽。
我为你支起生长的宇宙，
你也给予我更加丰富的星尘。”
第二个回答它的声音来自草丛，
草丛里的甲虫说：
“对不起，我无法还给你。
因为你一直在这里。
我们曾在空中随着歌声共舞，
我陪你长谈，度过寂寞的黑夜，
你也为我遮挡凌晨的雨，
傍晚的风。”
第三个回答她的声音来自天空，
天上的鸟儿说：
“对不起，我无法还给你。
因为你一直在这里。
我们曾在无数清晨一起迎接第一缕日光，
我为你驱赶不怀好意的客人，
你也应允我在这里歇息，停留。”
树感到困惑，
它几乎忘记了自己在哪。
但正如世界上所有别的梦一样，
树的梦也有结束的时候，
树醒了，
它觉得自己得到的阳光
好像比原来多了。
它看向太阳，
太阳似乎也回应着它的目光。
树
依旧立在离日出最近的坡上，
它静静地等待着夜晚。树知道，
今晚的山谷，
一定和昨夜一样的安静。
03
A Tree's Dream
Translation by Aurora Song
That quiet night
when the hills were asleep,
when the moon had let loose
its silvers to creep
through the pulse of the valleys:
That night on the dune gently
kissed by the dawn—
A tree
it began to dream.
The night in the dream was sounder
than reality seemed. The tree
in its dream
saw itself shattered
broken into countless pieces.
The tree was shattered so,
that pieces were blown
by wind to sky
Ridden
by streams to ocean
Smothered
by snow to soil
Taken
by creatures big and small
to places far and wide.
The tree panicked so,
that it called out,
“Please give it back!
Please return myself to me!”
The valley fell silent,
pondering, it seemed
for its response.
The first voice came from underground,
As the soil spoke:
“My apologies.
I cannot give what you say I take.
For it is here you have always stayed.
Together we saw the first sprouts from sand;
I built a universe for your roots to grow,
and you gave me rich stardust in return.”
The second sound came from the leaves of grass,
As the beetles replied,
“My apologies.
I cannot give what you say I take.
For it is here you have always stayed.
We used to dance along music in midair;
I was there when you spoke the drunken night,
as in return, you shielded me from the rain at dawn,
the wind at dusk.”
The third voice came from the sky,
As the birds sang,
“My apologies.
I cannot give what you say I take.
For it is here you have always stayed.
We used to bathe in the first rays of sunshine
of the millionth sunrise,
I fend off those of your unkind guests,
And you allowed me to nest, to rest.”
The tree was confused so,
That it had forgotten where it was.
Yet as all the world’s dreams go,
the dream of the tree would have to end.
The tree woke,
and felt the sun’s warmth
more than ever before.
It turned to the sun
whose blaze returned the gaze.
Still as ever, on the dune gently
kissed by the dawn, the tree waits
in silence— for the night it knows
will fall just as quietly
as the last goes.
04
忆江南·雪
步瑞茜
白云碎，十里尽残英。
江上往来人不语，一行一点玉沙声。
初雪覆南城。
Yijiangnan | Snow
Translation by Aurora Song
Clouds scatter white,
the road is littered with petals.
On the river, people drift past without a word—
only the faint drip of sound,
like jade dust on water.
First snow falls,
veiling the southern city.
鹧鸪天·想睡觉
步瑞茜
草色连天凝水洼，春痕深浅入人家。数声黄雀隐青霭，料峭薄寒轻雨花。
惊午梦，日偏斜，如何一枕即天涯？暮光宛转风林动，细雨朦窗作绿纱。
01
Zhehutian | Craving Sleep
Translation by Aurora Song
In the stillness of puddles,
grass melts into the sky,
drawing strokes of the blooming spring
into awaiting eyes—of you and I.
Siskins chirp behind the leaf-stained mist,
Flashes of feathers hidden from sight.
Petals weave into patterns of rain,
A chilly drizzle with a delicate sigh.
Oh! To drift off at noon
and startle by the setting sun—
how does the pillow carry me,
dreaming, from dusk to dawn?
The wind sweeps the trees
carrying whispers of twilight.
Raindrops as needles, the window
sewn into an emerald light.
02
浣溪沙·金阙歌台砌芙蓉
步瑞茜
金阙歌台砌芙蓉，桂薪飘惹散香风。骢马千里却相逢。
靡靡彩灯人去后，阁中漫漫粉钗浓。画皮画骨画德功。
Huanxisha | Hibiscus at the Stage
Translation by Aurora Song
The Golden Palace stage is decked with hibiscus,
Cassia wood burns, scattering perfumed winds.
Even astride a fine steed, a thousand miles, we meet again.
Gaudy lanterns fade when the crowd is gone,
The tower chokes with heavy rouge and jeweled pins.
You paint your skin, your bones, but never your virtue or merit.
树的梦
步瑞茜
在一个很静很静的夜晚，
上古已经敢睡。
只有月亮任由月光
在山谷的脉搏里流淌。
就是在这样的一个晚上，
在离日出最近的土坡上：
一棵树，
做了一个梦。
梦里的夜晚比今晚还要安静。
树在梦里看见了自己：
它看见自己碎了，
裂成了无数的片段。
树碎了。
于是，
风把一部分它推向天空；
水将一部分它流向海洋；
雪将一部分它掩在身下；
动物们也拉着它去各种地方。
树有些着急，
它向它们喊：
“请还给我！
请把我还给我！”
山谷沉默了很久，
似乎是在思考自己的回应。
第一个回答它的声音来自地下，
地下的泥土说：
“对不起，我无法还给你。
因为你一直在这里。
我们曾一起见证沙漠中第一颗绿芽。
我为你支起生长的宇宙，
你也给予我更加丰富的星尘。”
第二个回答它的声音来自草丛，
草丛里的甲虫说：
“对不起，我无法还给你。
因为你一直在这里。
我们曾在空中随着歌声共舞，
我陪你长谈，度过寂寞的黑夜，
你也为我遮挡凌晨的雨，
傍晚的风。”
第三个回答她的声音来自天空，
天上的鸟儿说：
“对不起，我无法还给你。
因为你一直在这里。
我们曾在无数清晨一起迎接第一缕日光，
我为你驱赶不怀好意的客人，
你也应允我在这里歇息，停留。”
树感到困惑，
它几乎忘记了自己在哪。
但正如世界上所有别的梦一样，
树的梦也有结束的时候，
树醒了，
它觉得自己得到的阳光
好像比原来多了。
它看向太阳，
太阳似乎也回应着它的目光。
树
依旧立在离日出最近的坡上，
它静静地等待着夜晚。树知道，
今晚的山谷，
一定和昨夜一样的安静。
03
A Tree's dream
Translated by Aurora Song
That quiet night
when the hills were asleep,
when the moon had let loose
its silvers to creep
through the pulse of the valleys:
That night on the dune gently
kissed by the dawn—
A tree
it began to dream.
The night in the dream was sounder
than reality seemed. The tree
in its dream
saw itself shattered
broken into countless pieces.
The tree was shattered so,
that pieces were blown
by wind to sky
Ridden
by streams to ocean
Smothered
by snow to soil
Taken
by creatures big and small
to places far and wide.
The tree panicked so,
that it called out,
“Please give it back!
Please return myself to me!”
The valley fell silent,
pondering, it seemed
for its response.
The first voice came from underground,
As the soil spoke:
“My apologies.
I cannot give what you say I take.
For it is here you have always stayed.
Together we saw the first sprouts from sand;
I built a universe for your roots to grow,
and you gave me rich stardust in return.”
The second sound came from the leaves of grass,
As the beetles replied,
“My apologies.
I cannot give what you say I take.
For it is here you have always stayed.
We used to dance along music in midair;
I was there when you spoke the drunken night,
as in return, you shielded me from the rain at dawn,
the wind at dusk.”
The third voice came from the sky,
As the birds sang,
“My apologies.
I cannot give what you say I take.
For it is here you have always stayed.
We used to bathe in the first rays of sunshine
of the millionth sunrise,
I fend off those of your unkind guests,
And you allowed me to nest, to rest.”
The tree was confused so,
That it had forgotten where it was.
Yet as all the world’s dreams go,
the dream of the tree would have to end.
The tree woke,
and felt the sun’s warmth
more than ever before.
It turned to the sun
whose blaze returned the gaze.
Still as ever, on the dune gently
kissed by the dawn, the tree waits
in silence— for the night it knows
will fall just as quietly
as the last goes.
04
忆江南·雪
步瑞茜
白云碎，十里尽残英。
江上往来人不语，一行一点玉沙声。
初雪覆南城。
Yijiangnan | Snow
Translation by Aurora Song
Clouds scatter white,
the road is littered with petals.
On the river, people drift past without a word—
only the faint drip of sound,
like jade dust on water.
First snow falls,
veiling the southern city.