【Huilan's poem】the Picture

By Huilan

A dream again. Next morning, I remember what I dreamt.
It’s a picture from you via email. Warm sunlight,
golden clouds, the reflection of satin sea.
Outside of the picture, I can imagine the seashore with trees,
a man, his warm hands, hairy skin, and smooth breath...
The man who’s taken it now standing there, quiet but smiling,
just like the sun, the sea, the sky, the music far away, where,
for some unknown reasons, all is close to me.

I open out the picture; let the warm rays come into my room;
invite the sunshine as my guest, and with whom,
I gain enough energy to fight the loneliness of nights; immediately,
it aroused some dried feelings from my deep memory;
then made all is fresh again with only one moment.
I sigh. I smile. I say not a word.
By the window, the moon hangs on outside.
It is so quiet;
of the sea, I smell the scent.

The picture from the dream reaches me it’s real,
like the footprint in steps I just stared at,
or a gift god left.
I wonder if I am the cloud flying into the picture, or,
a drop of water which also can be a whole sea.
Not only one time, have I received a sun from you.
And this time when I dream, you know at once. 

It’s a deep night in Beijing.
All sunshine in the picture comes out suddenly.
In a very soft yet wild way,
it covers my eyes, my nose, my lips, and
my imagination…