JoJo Hsu

There are two little boys
One said to you-
You are beautiful like roses;
The other said -
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A person's inner - rain,
Rain in the perception - the skin and ears;
Rain in cognition - tongue and eyes;
Rain in reason - brains and hands.
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Flowers fell in love with the book, love his
knowledge and light taste of ink.
Flowers look at the light in the book tease every day,
sparrow, pages change frivolous colors.
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Facing my fate, I chose uncertainty,
Not as ordinary people searching for the future curiously,
Uncertainty is the temptation of adventure.
I do not care whether the future hair is black,
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Sisyphus loves smoking,
     He lights tobacco at the gap of work,
         Facing the earth talking about his youth,
              Oh, the time of Sisyphus.
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When you ask me what is happiness?
I will answer you,
Happiness comes from your body
It goes beyond the body.
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You stopped in front of me,
We are between the plaster sculpture-
White body, handsome face,
All are the same, the mold makes them similar.
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Literature is a bird imitate to speak,
Travel to the streets, churches and guillotine,
Death is golden wheat,
Happy comes as fall harvest.
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The original text is Chinese, I translated it into English, may not be the best, but it is meaningful to me.


We Need Days
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Tonight moonlight is cool.
You in the building corner,
slightly look back, as if
the meaning of the whole body awake.
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The lights lit the sea,
Blue waves of happiness
Aegean place.
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Scheherazade rests during the day,
She has neurosis
Can not fall asleep even if she is lying down.
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I pluck a rose that belongs to you
I will trample on the muddy roads,
Climb over walls covered in prickly vines
To pluck that rose,
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Everyone, in my life, grow a tree,
Trees become forests, and forests lead to animals.
There I like the birds, I hate the gray wolf,
There are countless other unknown animals
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"will you bloom again? "I ask the flower bud
"I am just a bud about to bloom;
Before long I will flower again."
But the buds scatters and fall...
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Cassandra will not speak,
Choosing to stand in silence as looks out across the sea.
The homing birds singing of their return,
But Cassandra will rather listen.
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Image, a Botticelli
Fall back to color, pigment,
Canvases, frames, walls,
Icon Gallery, Museum
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My body does not match this gold bottle
It sinks, and my heart is full of expectations.
Let it sink and see that it is dead
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Flowers are not blooming because
The most beautiful have already bloom.
The petals are anxious to free themselves
A humble man starts to dream.
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