The afterglow casted into the kitchen reminded me one of my cousins‘ favourite poet, Mu Dan (穆旦). I remember many years ago when he was in a business trip in Beijing, he came back home with a poetry book of him. He asked me if I knew where this great poet had been buried as he wanted to pay a tribute in front of his gravestone. At that moment, I saw a very deeply touched man who had been reading some poems for the whole day. I was impressed. However, to what I know, my cousin ended up going back to Shanghai without a clue where to pay his visit, but he did show me the poems that Mu Dan had written.

I particularly like one of his poems, “Winter”. And it was sort of the last poem he wrote before his death.

“……我爱在淡淡的太阳短命的日子，临窗把喜爱的工作静静做完；才到下午四点，便又冷又昏黄，我将用一杯酒灌溉我的心田。多么快，人生已到严酷的冬天……”

I always wonder who still read poems in these days, when there is too much going on in one’s life and people had avoided entering any depth of psychological involvement. I don’t, regardless I did write poems at my age of 14-17 So what? It’s been 25 years since then. Today’s people just want to get results or deal with “things”, or at least have a plan with substance. They don’t want a stir in their hearts, and they don’t have time for being spiritually emotional or exploring their inner world as the external world is stimulating and exciting enough. Read poems? or write poems? Just don’t mention the word. They would make sure that you feel yourself absolutely laughable

But poems are something you can’t force yourself to read. It’s something you pick up when you are mentally ready for pick-up. You will know when it’s the time, and when it is the time, you will be able to enter the world that touches your soul. That’s why I had to mention Emily Dickinson. She is another poet that always gives me a trembling in heart every time I read her poems. For me she stands for the essence of the art of poems, some timeless classics.