THE WRITERS POST (ISSN: 1527-5467) the magazine of Literature & Literature-in-translation. VOLUME 7 NUMBER 1 JAN 2005

SONG HIO _______________________________ PICKING FALLEN LEAVES Age of life has just passed seventy years. And the body became exhausted and senile. Take medicine pills a day with few times. Sit, stand round about and go to bed to lie. Doctor's advises always to practice exercises. Oriental physician's counsel must keep moving. At sunset should go for a walk around the house. At sunrise stand straight and move like swimming. Life of a man seems just good-for-nothing. And the body had already become useless. Where is Paradise, please open soon its door? My soul has space for playing and wandering. * A day of early spring, walking out of the gate. Seeing  the large oak tree in front of the house. Lots of fallen leaves are covering on the grass. In the winter, they dried, faded and left behind. Sit down, gather and pick up the dead leaves. Putting them in a large bag made of nylon. A space around has been cleaned of them. Wind blows gently it becomes suddenly in vain. Sit down, gather and pick up all again and again. Putting them in same large bag made of nylon. The place around is cleared once more again. A strong wind blows it seems like back to nothing. Look at me, my wife asked: "Are you crazy?" Likes a little crab carrying sand on the seashore. A neighbor shook his head and slowly he said: "Shouldn't do that, you just waste your efforts." * Hey, Wind! What that? Are you teasing me! Putting more dried leaves on the grass-grown. I will pick them up right now more and more. Liking an exercise and nursing for the body.  Hey, Wind! Please joke uninterruptedly with me! Putting more the yellow leaves on the ground. I will pick them up  - all of the fallen leaves. Grass and tree will be beautiful in upcoming Spring. Hey, Wind! Please play continuously with me! Wind blow, why not falling the green leaves? I long knew what thing will happen about that. Sky is blue, and grass and tree are green, too. * Hey,Wind! Blow once more time. Please.Blown! In open air, I shouldn't forget an amusement. "Dancing alone, you are a crazy?" asked wife. "Together with the wind, I dance." for reply. SONG HO                     · THE WRITERS POST (ISSN: 1527-5467), the magazine of Literature & Literature-in-translation. VOLUME 7 ISSUE 1 JAN 2005 Editorial note: Works published in this issue may be simultaneously published in the printed Wordbridge Magazine Issue 6 January 2005 (ISSN: 1540-1723). Copyright © Song Ho & The Writers Post 1999-2005. Nothing in this issue may be downloaded, distributed, or reproduced without the permission of the author/ translator/ artist/ The Writers Post/ and Wordbridge magazine. Creating links to place The Writers Post or any of its pages within other framesets or in other documents is copyright violation, and is not permitted. Return to Contents HOME