Soaring through the puffy clouds, twisting through the air,
Regulating precipitation is my designated care.
With five-clawed toes and a wingless snaky length
I am regal, Imperial: gifted with Dragon strength.
The atmosphere is my open, continuous lair.
Imperial China is great, vast, monumental:
The Emperor expects me to be sentimental.
“Uphold the divine honor of the dynasty in power!
Exult in its glory; guard it like a precious flower.”
I mustn’t ignore His Highness when he gets temperamental.
Insurrection erupts on a far-flung plateau,
A few rebellious elements disrupting the flow.
Yet these are mortal concerns; I make rain for the crops.
Frankly, I don’t give a damn about ideological props.
The peasant families need nourishing harvests to sow.
The Emperor summons me to the Forbidden City, in Peking . . .
(Continued and completed here: http://elfwood.lysator.liu.se/libr/p/j/pjdoyle/chinese_dragons_dilemma.htm.html )
2007-08-14
15:24:52
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Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry