Poems

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Poems

These poems were originally written in Chinese etched on the barracks of the detention center. The English translations were done by Him Mark Lai and Genny Lim: authors of Island: Poetry and History of Chinese Immigrants on Angel Island, 1910-1940.
Note the pain and sadness that flowed from their heart to their hand and from there to the once bare walls of Angel Island.
These translations are directly translated from the book.

The gold and silver of America is very appealing. Jabbing an awl into the thigh in search of glory, I embarked on the journey. Not only are my one-thousand pieces of gold already depleted, but my countenance is blackened. It is surely for the sake of the family.
Originally, I had intended to come to America last year. Lack of money delayed me until early autumn. It was on the day that the Weaver Maiden met the cowherd that I took passage on the President Lincoln. I ate wind and tasted waves for more than twenty days. Fortunately, I arrived safely on the American continent. I thought I could land in a few days. How was I to know I would become a prisoner suffering in the wooden building? The barbarian's abuse is really difficult to take. When my family's circumstances stir my emotions, double stream of tears flow. I only wish I can land in San Francisco soon, thus sparing me this additional sorrow here.
Random Thoughts at Mid-Autumn Festival The night is cool as I lie stiff on the steel bunk. Before the window the moon lady shines on me. Bored, I get up and stand beneath the cold window. Sadly, I count the time that's elapsed. It is already mid-autumn. We should all honor and enjoy her. But I have not prepared even the most trifling gift and I feel embarrassed.

Permission to display give by the University of Washington Press
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