At Longqiao Bar
Those high-stemmed glasses hanging in the airThose throats containing sands and shreds of goldThose hips freely twisting and turning, with their accessoriesThose melodious whistlings and hoarse roarsThose arms that swing and shine, the bunches of hair tightly bundledThose shaking floorboards and heart-beatings on the shoesThose eyes let loose at midnight, bottles tipsyThose people: what's the difference between them and youBut those people: they are different from themselves by dayThose who pull a long face at homeThose who have been blown out onto the streets from homeThose who enter by the glass and exit by it, tooThose who lean against the bar table and stand by the pillarsThose who wear the uniforms and look dubiousThose who live off the flowers and the commotionThose who, suppressed, are behind the city that quickly darkensThose who roam the Longqiao BarThose who are thin and tall, bent double like a catThose who you love and do not understandThose who suck on the lipstickThose who smoke and drink, sitting in a cornerThose who lose much and gain littleThose who want to be forgotten and taken awayThose who you love but who don't love youThose who don't love you and do not know youThose not knowing you some of whom have noticed youThose who, having noticed you, do not understand youThose who do not understand you, looking at youThose who are looking at you and do not find it oddThose people, who are not surprised that you are crouching over the bar tableDrawing ants at sixes and sevens
A fake rattan chair
For long, I wanted to get a chairNot the wooden kind, but the rattan oneIt would be best if it were the old kind, shiny with wearWith a solid supportLike the one my old dad had used when I was littleNow, however, there is no oneWho would go to that length with the handiwork
One summer, I was finally able to secure oneThe kind made of artificial plasticAs its seat and back, hard to come by, perfectlyFitted my buttocks and my thin, long bodyI didn't haggle over the price and, in one goI shouldered it back to my rented roomSitting it near the window
At first, I was daily wonderingHow to sit in it(A bit a la Calvino)To read, to sun myself and to think some 'hard' questionsHowever, apart from doing that in it a couple of timesReading a couple of pages by Paulo Coelho and Yu