Tag Archives: Shelly Bryant

A Sensitive Ear

They say he is autistic. When his parents first told me that this was what the specialists had determined, I was skeptical. I knew what autism was, and had even been around autistic children before, particularly during a time when … Continue reading

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mono no aware

ice cream cones and a baby’s laughter yellow-edged photos and ink faded on the page snowflakes on the window and steam from a coffee mug the scent of your cologne as the alarm screams of dawn Shelly Bryant divides her … Continue reading

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Anticipating the Morning After

10 November 2016, Hong Kong anticipating the morning after the State of the Union Address to be made by the President-Elect on this morning after       the election, I listen to the parent at the next table define protectionism to his … Continue reading

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On Death and Translation

In his “Meditation XVII,” John Donne uses translation as a metaphor for death – perhaps a sentiment that hits a bit too close to the mark for many working translators. Donne writes, “All mankind is of one author, and is … Continue reading

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Strong Fences

each brick laid       a fish at Spring Festival       tonic soup after surgery       duty-free smokes from overseas       champagne at news of a promotion       scarlet eggs after the first month       a hong bao handed at a wedding       a small loan when times … Continue reading

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black and white image…

black and white image       plum blossom and afternoon sky the next morning       an explosive blush of blossoms recalling my father’s tale       of his first color TV Shelly Bryant divides her year between Shanghai and Singapore, working as a teacher, writer, … Continue reading

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The Way

crumbling bricks and telephone wires       verdant shrubs and trees their balancing act performed       by the cobbled brookside path crooked and narrow, their angles a mirror       of backs bent under the day’s burden Shelly Bryant divides her year between Shanghai and … Continue reading

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