Mathew Cheng’s ‘Tai O Coast’

From Recollections

Walked to the other side of the coast
to the last edge of the city.
The smell of salted shrimps
wafted by the bungalows nearby.
Bamboo baskets of many sizes
were holding dried shrimps, persimmon peels
and salted fish.
You couldn’t take the smell
and turned away.

Kids rode bikes and passed by.
One bike—
she was silent.
A few bikes—
they yelled to each other
and performed a cartoon.
The bikes
shot away.

We walked by all these
and reached the last coast.

A village hall’s dappled walls;
an unattended grocery store behind a big tree.
We walked around the corner

and there were no
bungalows. The long coastline became more visible.
We seemed to hear every word of waves
and every breath of shrimps and fish.

3pm
the sun withdraws,
the wind quickens its pace.
We walked around another corner
and there was the path less travelled by.
Bikes’ bells
were outsounded by waves splashing the dike…

You said we’re almost there.
The smell of salted shrimps was far behind, but
here’s the salted smell of the coast.
Less tree shades
and the sun shone to our faces.
Two or three egrets
scattered along the dike
neither eating nor speaking.

You said we’re almost there.
A vast coast stretched
to the horizon. You asked—
was that the Lingding Channel?
I didn’t know. I just saw

the lazy boats smoke pipes
on the sea
as if relishing the scenery
or sauntering to contemplate.
They were distant from each other;
They had their space anyway…

Time to go back.
Getting dark.
For years
you always reminisced the summer,
and the sea we saw that year.

(Translated by Chris Song)