A bilingual poet and author, Mr. Alexander Fui Sak Chang began writing poems in 1957/1958, using different pseudo names. He has won many international awards and prizes, poet laureate honors, and other prestigious international recognitions for world peace, harmony and brotherhood through poetry. Mr. Chang was the Regional Director of Oceania for the United Poets Laureate International, President of the Association of Chinese Writers SA, and an editor and producer of “Southland”/”Wen You” Chinese Literary magazine.
Through the long night of doubt and plight
The bending moons go onward to catch the suns
Singing songs of expectation for suns will walk on the water height
Gleams, burns the guiding light, and haunts sleepy Borneons on the runs
One, the gloom and terror emerge and ply on the waves
One, the externally and internally wretched, the sleazy
One, the suns of good-temper, hospitable and unwarlike slaves
One, we keep an eye on the wretched shadow of humanity
The earnest suns look toward the oppressed, not the oppressors
The oppressors on the eternal shore search for prey
Soon the rending of the tomb for the mean and thievish aggressors
Soon the scattering of all the souls of arrogant, wicked and insolently gay
Through the long night of doubt and plight
The bending moons go onward to catch the suns
Singing songs of expectation for suns will walk on the water height
Gleams, burns the guiding light, and haunts sleepy Borneons on the runs.
Ascending the old man river in ten bauble boats
Shuffle the scenes of mother earth most fresh and novel
How meaningful is life filled with gloats
That call up storms when the water warbles
How meaningless may life be under garrotes
When water doesn’t bother to warble
Why the river climbs the steep side of life only to reach another cliff
Why the two hundreds want to drive my men, my undisguised soul balmy
When in deep sleep
The Old Man River walks to me
When in deep sleep
The Old Man River walks to me
Our day of war is to negotiate a win
Before the ev’ning shadows fall
But pass not from us with the rolling wind
For tomorrow the dazzling sun shall inflame all
Such radiant gems are strewn over the wing
And will full moon in faithless murmur lie down
And must the dead in all toilsome ways arise
Not a single soul can escape the cleansing shower now
As mother’s tender hand, this parang’s (long knife) sharp eyes
With the blue ethereal sky withholds the night’s heavy frown
Ah, amid radiant orbs, wither shall I go
Burdened and sick and faint
In reason’s ears to whom shall I my troubles show
And bring forth a pitiful complaint
I heard of the suppressed voice of silence
The grappling vigour, crept into the jungle from somewhere
You had not penetrated many yards of rough frown suspicion
Before coming across a mass of ready boats from nowhere
Concealed in a snug little inlet guarded by relaxed and unwary patience
These had escaped the hungry longing of rapacious stare
Beware the shore at various points paced the armed sentinels
The first instinct was to camouflage the footprints of existence
But in a rush, though gallant warrior expected troubles
Noticed not the symbolic caution of your upheld hand
Dashed in advance, discharged a shot or two in the subterranean tussles
Calling upon other men to consolidate in their invincible presence
It was impossible to conceive how much consternation and chaos
This unexpected sally has occasioned deaths among the resistant men
The confused mind and subdued scrambling from their oars
Suddenly roused a flock of wild ducks from a lurking pen
Flashed through a rambling lake and rippled at the bosom of dark ethos
At the edge of my mind, the ancient wind of life
Shows me the nerve of nature, blows softly through those rising senses
The shape of long black mundane thought shall shine
Like silence of the night shocks me into suspense
With the faint fingerprints of light
In search of the soul long forsaken
When the sun is ditching, getting to the other side of the storm
The clouds walk among the liquid pearl on the bladed grass
Listening to gale’s lies, teasing the awakening dreams transformed
Condemned, a carefree eager in the twilight overcomes an impossible task
To die a triumphant death far away from home
On the cross of civilization, gently and willingly an era has come to pass
Nothing in his life that he lives will
Become him like the leaving of it
As he ascends so quietly the everlasting hill
On which he is to be gathered to people of his
He who now anchors in the shadow of memory is eternally in standstill
Let the tempest subside as the moon’s eyes throw gazes to the summit
The delirious gun raved about at the far end of the mind’s trail
The incantation was repeated piously at nine
Before a befuddled signal-rocket could choose to entail
In that besieged sleep of death what dream did it tranquilize and outshine
Ebbs and currents of triumphal sensuality, astonished being hailed
Was it so profane the next moment that encouraged Captain Belcher
Assisted by aggressive tidal waves, alongside the derisive laughter
Rode on the implicated majestic steamer
Against the tropical wind stirrer
She bore the ephemeral joys of May letters form a distant empire keeper