Our lockup is extended for a further four weeks, but with more freedom of movement. In my neighborhood, scattered groups of infected construction workers were detected; they were asymptomatic or pre symptomatic. Most of them would recovered well. However, these well infected have roamed the streets and malls nearby, endangering the seniors who live nearby, who need to come out to get their food and groceries. Well meaning volunteers visit many houses with food and cash, risking their lives too. Good if bad, the world is so connected, that only politicians find time and issues to moralise them, by blaming one group against another. Yet they put on a facade of superheroes to face the world.
This is my translation of an ancient poem, selected from the Classic (Ode) Of Poetry (Shining), 11th to 7th century BC, compiled by Confucius. Please read the original poem, Rats (相鼠).
I have chosen to translate it in haiku/senryu, for its brevity and diction. This ancient poem depicts rogue states and individuals. There are homophonic elements in Chinese script radicals, for instance, 皮（ 疲） 齿 （ 耻） 体 （ 礼）, together with imageries. The current spat between states and individuals illustrates this well.
My pc is crashed by virus contamination. In our current lockdown, all IT shops are closed. I am unable to buy a hard disc to format it. I hope to buy a new computer via email and delivery. I am learning to send this via my hp. Yesterday I posted it in the reply section of Echoes 544.
There is poetry and hope everywhere. The Corona virus mutates fast, and many sub types have evolved. The American, African, Asian and Australasian are not the same strain, even the the disease bears the same name. The politician enjoys witch hunting, find blame to distract failing policies. Human beings should be more connected to fight the disease, not to fight on race and culture. We must not let the disease destroy our humanity.
MALAYSIAN HAIKU/SENRYU ECHOES 492: SOUL OF SARAJEWO
on terraced hills
clear river image
cap mountain ranges
mass mindless murder
We traveled 6- 8 hours in the bus, moving from state to state, and then 2-3 hours of walk visiting sites or sceneries. Again I woke up early, with the urgent need to pen the feeling into words, before they were forgotten.
As the bus passed the serpentine hilly road, I was charmed all the way by the serene sceneries until we arrived at the city to listen to some sad and horrible stories about the fated assassination of Archduke of Austria, Siege of Sarajevo, inter-ethnic cum religious killing among inhabitants, and the breakup of Yugoslavia into six countries. On our way, we were amazed to observe how the lambs were roasted using water power to turn the skewers over wood fire pit. The simple two to three storied bungalows, on terraced slopes, along the Mijacka River, were our dreams houses. But it was nightmare in places with so much violence. Perhaps we should educate our Prime minister and his cronies about the sanctity and sanity on multi-racial and multi-religious divide; not just the attraction of fair Bosnian women. We could teach our Hong Kong youth about freedom, democracy and national integrity. And things to learn about survival of small nations in a modern world, and violence bigotry could not solve problems of any nature.
A lot of angst marked the end of 2018. The economic and political crisis abroad and at home have polarized the world and our nation and rendered most of us powerless, when the promises of hope have plummeted. The fear and hopelessness are pervasive. They have bubbled and burst into our emotional domain and psyche. There is a need to examine it. There are two recent books (published in 2018) to help us to understand the current crisis, exploring the structure of fear in political crisis and moral anxiety philosophically. As poet, we read, reflect and write, and share those landscapes in our poetry.