Li Yu-fang / 利玉芳

Li Yu-fang (b.1952) born at southern Taiwan, now is the owner of a goose ecological farm; before that she had been an accountant, a teacher in children writing class, and an assistant in her family-owned tile kiln. Her poems focus on the nature and humanities in Taiwan. Communication on the modern Taiwanese poetry is her favorite.

E-mail：liyf52@pchome.com.tw

        Scent of Rain / 雨的氣味

Scent shop

sells

scents of the natural world

Lilies have the public square’s scent of freedom

Mashed Turpinia has the heavy scent of the Pingpu peoples

The scent of the earthworm crawls atop the mud of the homeland

Taro + sweet potato + millet

Steamed Formosa sticky rice cake

What is the scent of great harmony?

Only a bite out of each other will tell

The scent of the bedroom

The scent of an overripe banana

The scent of alcohol

The scent of water

The scent of angels

The scent of Heaven
The scent of no scent

There is rain on the weekend

Rain that does not have seed

Rain that does not petrify

The scent of a closed umbrella made in Taiwan

        Passion of the Rose / 玫瑰花情

Once the rose bouquet had been tossed to the bridesmaids,

I already had given up my obstinacy and my opinions

I had begun to learn how to please my groom

Once I had removed the makeup,

resting my head upon night’s arm, I entered dreamland 

The budding rose, too, curls up beneath the gentle moon

In the quivering first rays of the morning sun, the rose dispatches its subtle powers

Oh, blooming rose!

Please, don’t lie silent

especially, against the sting of love running aground

Please, don’t sit alone withering,

causing me to stumble, unable to rise again

Oh, beautiful rose!

Please, reveal to me all stories hitherto unknown to me

Please, blossom for me all fragrances hitherto not enjoyed by me

        Meaning of Padauk Flower / 紫檀花語

Gently roll down the mind’s window

with window film,

let your eyes and my eyes

mirror the light and figures of Padauk.

Slightly collapse an umbrella

to obstruct the profuse things,

let the golden flowers

sprinkle on our clothing.

What a marvelous May！

Flocks of lemon Migrant

flutter their wings

to trace back the habitat,

to seek the habitable shade of the trees.

Ah！the sandy wind of the city

has messed up my hair

after I left mom in that one year.