Poem 5


 Four days before the Qiqiao Festival,

I boarded the steamship for America.

Time flew like a shooting arrow.

Already, a cool autumn has passed.

Counting on my fingers, several months have elapsed.

Still I am at the beginning of the road.

I have yet to be interrogated.

My heart is nervous with anticipation.


Introduction | Voyage | Family and Dreams | Outpour | Poetry | Conclusion