What you want to leave behind when you go, a poem, on legacies, translated…
My Past, My Future
All Had the Memos of the Reminders of My Life
The Loose-Leaf Binding, Allowing for Flipping Through at Any Time
That Year
I’d Gone Up North
The Connection I Had with Beigang Creek Became
My Nostalgia Forever
That Year
The Very First Book of Poetry “The Blue Star”
You’d Started, Twinkling High Up in My Skies
Became What Helped Me to Read Through the Saturated Nights
We’d Made Our Smiles into the Blooming Flowers that Year as Well
Turned the Loneliness of Our Youths into, Fallen Autumn Leaves
That Year
the tangible, the material…
I’d Come to Understand that Love is, a Waste of Time
But Something I Couldn’t be Without
That Steady Hold for Me, in the Raging Storms
I’d Grown Old with the Sights of That Year
Life Came and Went Quickly & Yet, it’d, Dragged, On
That Year
or
I’d, Rehearsed My Own Wake with Poetry
Imprinted Those Beautiful Memories, into, Life’s Most Wonderful Records
That Year
I Shall Travel Far Away Never to Return Again
To the Locals Who Don’t Know My Address
Postmarking These Postcards in My Name with the Sights from Foreign Lands
That Year
Using the Lights Radiating from the Shooting Stars Write into Songs
Recalled that I Never Actually Left
And You Can Sing on Every Christmas
So, this, is how someone wants to be remembered after s/he dies, leaving nothing behind, taking, nothing with her/him when s/he goes, and it’s what you leave behind, that weighs more heavily compared to what you were when you were alive.