The thought that I WAS ONCE A BUTTERFLY, NOT BLIND TO the sorrows and joys of the world, but rather free and elegant like the wind which was my friend. Many times I thought that you were soft and gentle like the morning light, and now my love, you swim into the heart of the sun. Tomorrow I will be in Bejing, sleeping, with my pillow. Green the grass grows here, among the tall faces of the city. Have you ever been to my home--over there by the warm flowing song of the sea...my friends along the Yantsze call out my name...I run to greet them now. Great is the horizon, beneath the world's cresent moon: above the stars are blue and many.
submitted by James Mercer
Queen's University, Canada
May 1997
