I want to leave my heart in the country,
and learn from the art of living.
I want to part from self induced cynicism
that numbs my longing for the simple.
That’s not it.
I want to be special and unspecial enough,
to dispense the namecard, the contracts and the mind lard.
I would rather feel the velvet of the sky instead.
More than that,
I want to be content in knowing that others are growing
by pitying my simple-minded lost soul.
I long for the longing to let go of scrutiny and laugh
alongside human insecurity.
No, that isn't it. I wish them well
despite the jealousies of this condescending city life.
I condemn the frail spirit that keeps me
from ploughing the garden or reciting Yutang,
without having satire stinging my tongue,
and guilt weigh upon
my already heavy, hollow heart.