The emperor’s guard killed everyone
in their path, on the way
to conquer the Yue,
even the weak defenseless.
They came to a hut in the mountains
where an old couple lived.
The captain asked them,
what do you do to please
the emperor, and laughed.
The old man answered,
his eyes down, I write poems
and my wife carves jade.
The captain laughed again
and nodded to a soldier
who crushed the old
couple’s heads with a mace.
When the captain got old
and sick, he had the same
nightmare every night:
He opened ceremonial jars
that began to speak poems,
and his hands burned with green fire.
Copyright 2020 Doug Anderson
Like Pilate’s dream…
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Powerful poem. Thank you.
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A haunting poem. (May such nightmares haunt the malevolent today…)
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