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2. |
Sonnet to Guan-Yun
03:27
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Never time shows partiality to anybody_
Summer walks through the ponds, before treading forward. All the ponds, all the lotus.
Leaves, flower and roots in the pond, taking tinkle smile one after another.
In my eyes, storm hails in no times. Red it shines, and purple
beams, the blossom thrives, withered it decline.
So it is, how long and curling a love silk spun, how long and enchanting the beauty and sorrow flow.
Never time shows partiality to anybody!
Sun rises at least three hundred and sixty times a year, even three years without two leap months and two within three years.
Although February, February has only twenty-eight days.
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3. |
In your eyes, Formosa
10:00
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4. |
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「
I’m sorry for the memory of pain.
The joyful moment didn’t arrive with my birth. The same day, on the way home after a day’s work, a group of men in black took him away. Since then, Father is gone. As if lightening splits the sky the family falls apart......
A few days later, our property was confiscated. Mom had suffered on emotional shock, and did away with herself. A so-called prison of conscience, due to the philosophy symposium involved socialism, father and his friends were prosecuted. Grandma and me had to move......
At the corner of the crematorium, that was the last I ever saw of him, I saw Father engulfed in flames.
“Don’t ask from where I have come My home is far, far away
Why do I wander so far
Wander so far”
At there, the roll call at four, Devil comes along.
」
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5. |
Qataban
08:26
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6. |
Lonely Country
12:25
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I dreamed, that I
Sat -- naked, cross-legged -- at a snowy peak, up high.
Held up between winter and spring.
The snow is velvety tender. Here.
Here, the city’s dazzling bustle couldn’t be found, Only time contemplating rumbling sounds.
Here no cobras, owls or Sphinx’s cries,
Only jimson flower, olive tree and jade butterfly.
Here, no rules, dimensions or the Thousand-Hand-Eye Buddha. A nebulous, messy mass caress;
A touch of silent breath.
Here, Day serene and slender as Night;
And night prettier, richer, magnificent.
Here, It’s cold as wine, sealing poetry and beauty inside; Even emptiness communicating speechless stars to the sky
Stalled, “The Past”, “The Future” stopped, In this Country Lonely. For “The Present”, I am a humble servant,
And an Emperor!
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S'yo Fang Amsterdam, Netherlands
S’yo is a pianist, composer and arranger.
His music has the seamless openness
created by the context of modern classical and contemporary jazz that brings the balance between improvisation and composition while transforming two musical languages. It does not eliminate the viewer, but invites Modernism in a tangible way.
... more
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