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The sixty-three poems in Water Wood Pure Splendour, are
presented in three sections. The first part, 'A child’s sandal', portrays
life in Hong Kong, the concerns of survival, work and family in the city.
The title of the second section, 'Water wood pure splendour', is a direct
translation of four Chinese words, shui mu qing hua. The poem with
this title encapsulates how the otherworldly splendour of the land all over
China transcends the recriminations arising from the torment of the land and
its people by foreign invaders, bringing the Chinese people into a new era
of forgiveness. The section begins with the complex feelings surrounding the
1997 transition in Hong Kong and ends with an appreciation of people and
life on the China mainland, culminating in a dance by the 'children of the
dragon'. The third and final section, 'Ping pong with the stars', takes the
reader through the reminiscences of a person growing old to 'the music of a
life remembered', 'a song from the moon'. Taken as a whole, the collection
takes the reader from the social, through the national to the eternal.
Critics Comments
"How refreshing after a
literary generation with capes and drawn swords."
Le Soir
Brussels
"The issues explored in
each of her poems are universal in theme."
National Arts
Council Passion 99.5
Singapore
"Some of Agnes Lam's poems
are so moving they will make you cry."
South
China Morning Post
"Poetry born of pain has
power to heal."
Hongkong
Standard
"[A] significant Hong Kong
and Singapore poet...she serves as a pioneer example of native Asia's
English language writing experience."
Dimsum,
Hong Kong
Readers Comments
Extract
The rape of a nation
Larger than life,
they were soldiers
in the streets of darkness,
shadows with no faces,
burning, raping, killing
in a land not their own,
a battle not of their making.
I was watching
by the side with others.
They did not see me
or the other watchers.
But I could hear the screams,
smell the wet of the blood,
see the red of fire.
I was doing nothing.
Nothing was done to me.
But I felt the desperation of both
the perpetrators and the victims
in the rape of a nation.
Was it from another time?
Another space?
Was it just television?
Or a hallucination? A prophecy?
A fragment of collective memory?
22 June 1997, Rodrigues Court
Water wood pure
splendour
Shui mu qing hua,
water wood pure splendour,
four words across the lintel.
This courtyard of low tiled houses
connected by covered walkways
like in the Summer Palace,
two stone lions guarding its entrance,
bamboos and pines shading a garden.
Behind the courtyard is a lily pond.
Beyond the pond, white stone bridges
cross a vast expanse of water, lily
leaves floating, not moving. Touching
the water are drooping willows.
Little patches of land connect the bridges.
Islands of trees grow to a hundred feet.
Buds in deep red blossom into pink roses.
One pavilion named 'Lily pond moon scene'
by a writer leads to a statue of Confucius.
This wood and water was once
the residence of the fifth prince.
The fourth became the emperor.
On a stone memorial, I read
its history, how it once was
part of Yuan Ming Yuan,
now in ruins after the fire
in 1860 set by the English
with the French when
China refused to yield.
After more invasions
by various nations, in 1911,
with indemnity money returned
by America, on these grounds,
Tsinghua was established.
On the twenty-third day
of the second month
in the year 1990, the Beijing
People's Government declared
parts of Tsinghua historical.
If the Anglo-French fire had
spread just a little further,
all these would not have been.
And no one could now study,
walk, sleep, fish, write poetry
in the wood by the water.
As colours change through spring,
summer, autumn, winter, shadows move
east, west, south, north. Over this land
of thousands of years,
as earth becomes heaven
in water wood pure splendour,
can the Chinese not forgive?
19 May 1998, Tsinghua
with reference to a couplet on the door of the President's Office in Tsinghua
University
I have walked on air
Last night
I had the dream again …
… a quadrangle,
on all four sides,
walkways with high ceilings,
smooth stone columns.
A garden in the centre
filled with light.
I was sitting
on the cool tiled floor
in the shaded verandah
leaning against a column,
looking at the garden in the sun,
in a white nightgown,
a tinge of blue light,
thin cotton, loose and
long beyond my toes.
I heard footsteps coming
and started to walk away.
Lighter and lighter,
my feet a few inches
above the ground,
I did not climb the stairs.
I floated into the air …
So many times
in my dreams,
I have walked on air.
I move over houses,
mountains, water, fields,
between the clouds
into the stars
as my body sleeps.
2 November 1997, Rodrigues Court
Copyright © Agnes Lam
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